parker-razor

[parker-razor]

What About Now

Rating: M | This is smut, no one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Sex pollen with Whiskey | Agent Whiskey is a thorn in your side, a name you’d prefer be kept out of your ear. But he blows into town with a mission sent from HQ and you have no choice but to deal with your complicated past. 

Warnings: Technically dubcon (it’s sex pollen but they’re very willing), fuck or die kinda, unprotected p in v, some exhibitionism, feelings, one use of ‘daddy’ (blink and you’ll miss it). I think that’s it?

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x fem!Reader

Word Count: 34.1k (yes, that’s 34,143 words; no, I don’t have anything to say for myself)

MASTERLIST

“Well, now, sugar. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Though you’d heard the door to your office open and the tap of boots against the hardwood floor, you hadn’t paid it any mind. Statesman’s New Orleans Headquarters was always bustling with activity and people were always stepping into your space for one reason or another when your door was cracked. You’d assumed - wrongly - that it was your assistant bringing another file that needed your signature, or maybe your second-in-command arriving early for the daily briefing.

However, none of the scenarios you imagined could’ve prepared you for the reality you were faced with.

Keep reading

[parker-razor]

i require a part two IMMEDIATELY

(Idk if my other ask got eaten)

“Dont mind me im just enjoying the view” is what I got from the wheel spinning thing lol.

Can you make it a Din story? Extra smutty? Maybe where he catches reader pleasuring themselves😮‍💨🙈 IM WHORE KNEE LMAO 😭

I don't know about extra smutty but oh boy did I have fun with that (also the gif search on this website fucking sucks 😂)

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Wordcount: 2k lmao (this is getting out of hand)

Rating: explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: pining, (interrupted) masturbation, dirty talk, some fingering, hand around throat (but only a little bit)

Time to yourself on the Crest was a luxury you didn’t have often. Either the kid or the Mandalorian were always around and you wouldn’t have it any other way. But today they were both gone. You didn’t know where exactly but apparently the Mandalorian, Mando, was more attentive than you gave him credit for. Leaving with the words “We all need some time for ourselves” early this morning, taking Grogu with him.

You didn’t mind taking care of the Kid when Mando was out hunting bounties or Maker knows what. But there are things you couldn’t do with a hyperactive fifty-year-old toddler around.

Like taking a long shower and shaving every part of your body that you usually didn’t have the time for when taking a quick shower. Then putting lotion on, massaging every part of your body until you smelled like a walking Almond. For a split second you wondered how it would feel if Mando was the one massaging the lotion into your skin. Ever since you saw his hands, his real hands without the gloves on your mind conjured pictures of all kinds of situations where his hands were involved. The more innocent ones were when he was playing with Grogu, or his fingers simply pushing buttons and flying the ship, maybe even holding your hand. Then came the less innocent thoughts, where his hands were holding your wrists above your head as he fucked you against the nearest surface after coming back from a bounty hunt. Or his hands on your thighs, pushing your legs apart, his fingers diving into you, driving you insane.

Maker.

You first thought you had those thoughts because after all you were spending a lot of time with him. So naturally he was the only one there who your brain manifested as the one person to scratch that itch. But the longer you spend time together, mostly when the kid was asleep, you noticed that you really liked him.

He didn’t give you any indication if the feelings were mutual though. So you kept your fantasies to yourself. Sometimes touching yourself in the middle of the night when you were sure he and the kid were asleep, keeping yourself quiet as you imagined it were his fingers inside of you instead of yours.

But now you didn’t have to be quiet. Looking at yourself in the small mirror Mando had installed over the sink you bit your lip. He did tell you that he would be back by nightfall. And it still was very early in the day. The ground security protocols had been activated so no one could enter the ship but him and you.

Letting your hand glide over the smooth skin of your stomach you felt your cunt getting wetter the longer you thought about what you had been fantasizing about for months. Him going down on you while you sat in his pilot's chair, naked except for his cape beneath you.

Taking a deep breath you put your fluffy socks on (Mando had bought them for you after you had kept stealing his socks because space was freaking cold) and tiptoed through the crest. Naked, until you found what you were looking for. His extra cape. It always hung next to his cot, barely used. Yet it smelled like him.

Climbing up the ladder to the Cockpit you pulled the cape over his chair before you sat down. What would he say if he knew you were sitting completely naked in his chair? There was a tiny part of you that hoped he liked what he saw. Coming to think of it you didn’t even know if he was interested in women. A moan escaped you. Pictures of him and another man filling your head. Okay, why did this turn you on so much? Spreading your legs you let your hand ran up and down your body, pinching your nipples as you kept thinking of all the things you wanted the Mandalorian to do to you…

He had landed the Crest just outside of Nevarro city. He had some pucks to pick up and some things to buy, wanting to give you a day without taking care of either Grogu or well... Him. Even without asking you seemed to know what he needed. Taking your offer to help him on the ship was something he would never regret. No. For weeks he’d been trying to get to know you better. Even made the effort to ask questions which you always answered with a smile. He noticed you looking at him sometimes when you thought he wasn’t looking, your lips between your teeth, your eyes focused almost all the time on his hands. Even more so after he had forgotten to put his gloves on one morning.

Maker, why was it so difficult to just do the first step? Telling you how he felt, about how he wanted you and you alone. He spent nights awake, wondering how your skin would feel, how you’d taste, how you…

Shaking his head he got closer to the Crest. He left Grogu with Cara at the school, having seen a booth sell your favorite pastries. He didn’t even think about it when he bought some, wanting to bring them to you immediately even though he had told you he would be back by nightfall. You had told him that they’re best enjoyed fresh out of the oven.

But now that the Crest came closer, knowing you were alone on his ship, nerves hit him fully. Which wasn’t something he was used to. He never felt like this before and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. With the bag of pastries in one hand, he disengaged the ground security protocols, the ramp lowering for him shortly after.

It was dark inside. Maybe you were asleep? As quiet as possible he walked over to the kitchenette, placing the bag there so you had to see it if you walked past. Taking a look around he saw light coming for the cockpit. Maybe you were reading? Shaking his head he turned to walk out when he heard a gasp, followed from a low moan. He swallowed, a part of his brain wanting to check if you were okay when he heard another moan. No. That wasn’t the sound of someone in pain. Quite the opposite. He felt his pants getting tight at the thought of you in his seat, your fingers buried in your…

Maker… He wanted you. Breathing deeply under his helmet he closed the ramp, activating the ground security protocols before he quietly made his way to the cockpit.

“Mhhhh…” you moaned, one of your hands pinching your nipple as your other hand rubbed slow circles on your clit. Maker you can’t remember ever being this wet. Both of your legs propped over the arms of his chair you’ve been edging yourself closer and closer to your climax. You were surrounded by his scent, his cape beneath you to keep yourself from being stuck on the leather chair. You would just have to wash his cape because you sure were dripping down on the fabric. A part of you just wanted to hang it back, waiting if he would notice his cape drenched with your cum. You bit your lip, your fingers leaving your clit, pushing two fingers inside. A low moan escaped you. Your fingers weren’t enough but you were so out of it, it would be enough to make you cum.

“Fuck....” you whined, your hand leaving your breast to rub your clit while you added another finger to fuck yourself. You could already feel it building and this time you would allow yourself to cum, to soak his chair to…

You heard a noise behind you, your head snapping to the side.

“Don't mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” the Mandalorian said, leaning against the wall of the closed cockpit door, his helmet tilted to the side, his arms crossed in front of him. Maker why did he always look so fucking….

With big eyes you looked up at him, mortified as you brought your hands up to cover yourself.

“Oh my god Mando, I’m so so sorry. Maker I’ll leave the ship. I…” you were about to get up and run for the hills when he took a step closer to you.

“Din…” he said and you looked up, his cape now covering most of your body as you stood in front of the chair. You were still mortified, yet you looked up at him, his hands now on his side. For a second it looked like he wanted to touch you before he stopped himself.

“My name is Din.”

“Din…” you whispered and this time he did reach out, his gloved hand on your upper arm, slowly running up until his fingers were around your throat and your breath hitched. He shook his head barely noticeable before he cupped your cheek.

“The least I can offer you is my name after finding you here… Maker you’re even more beautiful than I imagined… I…” his other hand reached for the cape around your body, grabbing the fabric. When you didn’t make any move to stop him he pulled at the fabric, letting it fall to the ground. A modulated groan escaped him and you felt your legs growing weak.

“I interrupted you…” he whispered and you felt yourself growing warm, his gloved hand now on your hip. Feeling brave you reached for his hand, slowly pulling at the glove, giving him enough time to stop you until you pulled it off, feeling his warm fingers in your hand.

Swallowing your looked up as you slowly guided his hand until his fingertips brushed over your hard nipple, making you gasp, electricity shooting through your body.

“Din…” you whimpered and finally his hand grabbed your breast, while he pushed the still gloved thumb of his other hand into your mouth.

“I interrupted you,” he repeated, his hand leaving your breast and running down your stomach until his hand cupped your cunt and you moaned.

“Let me make up for it,” he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth in sync with two of his fingers entering your drenched pussy, almost enough to make you cum instantly.

“Fuck me…” you groaned and he leaned closer to you, his chest now almost against yours.

“First you gotta cum on my fingers,” he hummed, his fingers in your pussy angling until he found what he was looking for and you gasped.

“And then I want to watch you make yourself cum in my chair, wearing my fucking cape…” he added a third finger and it was almost too much.

“And then I will fuck you on this chair and pump my cum inside of you so all you will ever think about when you watch me sitting in this chair is how good my cock feels buried in this perfect tight pussy.”

“Shit, Ma… Din,” you moaned around his finger.

“Cum for me sweet girl,” he said and you soaked his hand, coming harder than you had ever before. He fucked you through your climax, extending it to a point you tried to wriggle out of his grasp around you until he finally stopped, his fingers leaving your cunt and mouth, only to reach for your hand and pushing it against his still clothed, hard cock.

“You do that to me every fucking time I look at you,” he said and you had to grin.

“Want me to show you what I do every night when I get a moment to myself and think of you?” you asked.

“Maker, yes,” he groaned and you sat down on his chair again, legs spread to show him exactly what he did to you.

Taglist:

@ladyreapermc / @cherry-gemz / @melchills-j / @justpedropascal /  @raspberrymama / @parkjammys  / @novicepearl / @perropascal​ / @hotspacepilots​ / @sleep-tight1 / @freeshavocadoooo / @princess76179 / @pumpkin-stars / @evyiione / @princesssterek / @palaiasaurus64 / @turkish276  / @maciiiofficial / @re-reads / @trippedmetaldetector / @liviiii98 / @greeneyedblondie44 / @darnitdraco / @tobealostwanderer / @gracie7209 / @rosiefridayrogersunday / @dindjarinneedsahug / @autumnleaves1991-blog / @sharkbait77 / @elegantduckturtle / @marvelousmermaid / @Stevie75 / @dihra-vesa / @idreamofboobear / @peoniarose / @anaaaispunk / @paintballkid711 / @castleamc / @just-here-for-the-moment

[parker-razor]

Forget Me Too

Previous Chapter | Chapter 4 | Next Chapter

Read on Ao3.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Words: 8.5k update, 25k total

Chapters: 4 / 15

Warnings: Language. Canon-typical violence. References to injuries. Sexual contact. Oral sex (M receiving). PIV contact. Choking. Spitting. Dom!Javi, Brat!Reader. Slight breeding kink / cum play. THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

Author's Notes: Whew, it took me a goddamn minute (aka several months) but we finally have the perfect culmination of sexual tension which leads to absolutely excellent hate-fucking. Literally 3/4 of this is all caustic and antagonistic smut.

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“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Peña bit, his tone laced with annoyance and anger, as he looked on at you with the kind of fury that could’ve burned someone alive.

Messina waved her hand at Peña’s comment; you were glad he had been the one to speak up, as you were feeling much the same — a stakeout with Peña was something out of your worst nightmare, and here you were, expected to take the order with a smile. “Peña, you’re not a twelve year old girl. Cut the drama. I know that you know the brothel better than anyone, and you’ll need backup with a brain cell to make this move worth our while.”

You snorted at Messina’s comment, appreciating her affinity for you.

“Don’t think you’re untouchable here either, Doctora,” Messina started, her eyes laser focused on you. “Your recent attitude toward Peña tells me plenty. Get over your shit, and get going. Now. That’s an order.”

Your face burned with embarrassment you left the office space, intentionally avoiding Peña’s gaze as the two of you stalked towards the garage of the compound. You couldn’t believe Messina had somehow managed to read the two of you like a book, considering her removal from Friday night’s escapades — until something clicked within you.

Murphy. He would’ve reported to her, and his details of that night were surely enough to clue Messina in.

As you stalked along behind Agent Peña, you saw Agent Murphy moving through the hallway, holding a large stack of files while he balanced a cup of coffee atop them, a cigarette planted firmly between his lips. You let Agent Peña carry on, not informing him of your sudden stop before the towering blonde man. Reaching upwards, you swiped the cigarette from his mouth and successfully brought it to your lips before he had a moment to respond.

“Your insistent need to meddle in your partner’s romantic life comes from a well-intentioned place, I’m sure of it. Knowing he’s fucked every prostitute in Medellín surely worries you, if nothing but from a health and safety standpoint. But I’m gonna need you to keep that concern far the fuck away from me. Whatever you think may have happened on Friday is wrong, so don’t make it my fucking problem by gossiping to Messina.”

Murphy’s eyes were as wide as saucers, looking completely stunned by your unexpectedly blunt and direct confrontation. “Y’know,” he laughed, “Connie would love you. Remind me to introduce the two of you sometime.”

You were now positively boiling with rage, as he ignored every word you had said about yourself and Javier in favor of his own dismissive commentary.

Murphy placed his free hand on his hips, eyes rolling as he spoke again. “Javi doesn’t like you, that’s obvious. Doesn’t change the fact that he wants t’fuck you — anyone can see that. Honestly, just fuck ‘em and get it over with so the two of’ya can move on.”

You stared into simultaneously genuine and jaded blue eyes, and before you could stop yourself, you felt the muscles in your forearm come alight with a furious energy that felt unfamiliar but somehow just right. Your hand flung outwards, and you connected with Murphy’s stubbled jawline with a resounding crack that felt as though it might fracture the very walls around you.

The rage subsided as quickly as it arrived, and as you came down from the sudden emotional high you had been riding, you instinctively felt the need to apologize. For a moment you felt terrible that you had let your maelstrom of emotions get the best of you; but as you considered your circumstances, you felt less and less of a need to apologize. Murphy had chosen to be both antagonistic and dismissive; you watched the blonde man rub his jaw gently to ease your smarting blow.

“I’d love to meet Connie sometime,” you responded, before turning sharply on your heel to follow the path that Peña had carved through all of the nervous staff. “I’m sure she’s quite the woman.”

Murphy had blessedly decided to leave you alone, quickly fleeing from your frustration; and you were now quickly catching up with the very man you had been trying to avoid — Javier Peña.

“Bout goddamned time, been too busy flirting with —“

You cut Peña off with a sharp glare. “How about you shut your mouth and we get on with the job?”

Javier hummed, a grin working its way onto his face. “Whatever you say, hermosa.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Doctor Hermosa, then.”

***

Javier Peña had been a thorn in your side from your first meeting, but that thorn had now worked its way even further into your healing side now that you had been assigned to work an op together. An op, that was focused on one of the many brothels that Peña was known to visit. As you looked on at the scantily clad women, you suppressed the hot feeling rising in your throat that threatened to choke you; you didn’t allow yourself to think about which girls Agent Peña had fucked. It was none of your business, and you had no right to have any opinion or feelings about his romantic choices.

The cabin of the parked pickup truck had grown unbearably hot, the humidity creating a cloying and overwhelming environment that nearly made you nauseous. It had been almost two hours of silent surveillance in the sweltering car, and you didn’t miss the way that Javier’s jaw twitched when he saw multiple men escorted in. You almost would’ve found his faint sense of jealousy to be interesting, but you knew better than to spend any time delving into that right now.

Javier was the first to break the silence. “You’re doing better here than I expected, Doctora. Didn’t take you long to find someone to help chase off the loneliness. Just don’t be surprised when that loneliness lasts longer than the ones you fuck.”

You froze at his unexpected and brash words, rendered completely silent as you tried to process and understand what he had just said to you.

“But, you didn’t have to outsource to a brothel, so maybe I’m wrong. You aimed higher, which I can appreciate. I tried that too,” he paused as he stared you down with a look so heavy that you felt pinned to the car. “So I don’t blame you by any means — Sandoval is certainly higher up on the hierarchy than a DEA agent. You’ve gotta be picky with who you fuck around here.”

Javier’s mouth opened, intending to spit forth additional commentary, but you cut him off with a murderous glare.

“That’s awful presumptuous of you, Agent Peña.” Your voice was terrifyingly calm, as you stared down the dark-haired man seated next to you. “I have never fucked my way into any sort of promotion or favor; I’m good enough that I’ve never needed to, so that tactic is all you. And regardless, you looked too drunk to be remembering anything about last night, much less remembering it accurately.”

Javier rolled his eyes, the low light of the evening highlighting the gold flecks within their rich brown depth. “Believe me, I wish I was drunk enough to forget it. You’re not exactly quiet when you’re worked up, hermosa, and I’m very familiar with those sorts of sounds. But hey, it at least sounded like you enjoyed yourself.”

You laughed, suddenly understanding his anger, resentment, vitriol. He thought you had fucked Sandoval, not knowing that your friendly evening with him had ended at your doorstep. “That was all me, Agent Peña. I didn’t come to Colombia to get laid, I came to do my job. Thought you would’ve understood that after Friday night, but I suppose that’s too foreign of a concept for you to grasp.”

His eyes narrowed and lips pursed as he stared on at you, trying to decide whether or not he believed you. It really shouldn’t matter what he did or didn’t believe, but Murphy had already been gossiping with Messina and the last thing you needed was a whole host of rumors flying around about you, so you needed to set him straight. His mouth opened, no doubt to say something else that was intended to hurt you, but due to some sort of divine intervention, he was interrupted by the job you were supposed to be focused on.

The sicario you and Peña had been sent to watch for had finally arrived at the brothel, and he hadn’t arrived quietly — but why should he have to? Working for one of the largest criminal empires in the world, he likely felt untouchable. It was just sheer dumb luck that a snippet of intel had led you and Peña to cross his path. As the man stumbled inside, you and Peña finally emerged from the sweltering heat of the car and quickly moved to the back entrance of the brothel.

Peña went in first, while you covered him from behind. It had been your idea to have him enter before you, seeing as many of the women here would know and recognize him; it was less likely to cause a scene. And you had been correct in your assessment; Peña had to peel more than one pair of hands off of him before your presence, gun included, was noticed by the other women. As they looked at you curiously, suspiciously, the only thought that came to mind was, I feel overdressed.

The scene before you grew serious and somber, and Peña spoke quickly and quietly to one of the women, his voice breathy, gravelly, needy — stopstopstop, now is not the time — and the two of you nervously waited for an answer. It took the woman a moment to respond, likely weighing her odds of collaborating with the DEA versus feigning ignorance; but finally, she indicated where the man in question could be found.

Agent Peña cocked a half-smile at her and winked, before gesturing for you to follow him. You rolled your eyes, but complied; there were more pressing matters than Peña’s consistent flirtations. Music filled the brothel, and you could feel the bass echoing in your chest; likely intended to drown out some of the sounds that the thin walls couldn’t conceal, but it also helped to mask the sound of your footsteps. The few women you crossed paths with stepped out of your way quickly, keeping their heads down as they made themselves scarce.

You were quickly approaching the indicated spot, and you felt a spike of nervous energy as you knew it would likely be a fight to keep the other woman safe. You and Peña had discussed this earlier, and before you even had the chance to bring up her safety, Peña beat you to it. For all of his exploits, for his jaded attitude and tired eyes, he was still dead-set on being the hero, being the knight in kevlar armor. You may not like Peña, but you couldn’t deny that sometimes, he truly tried to be a good man. Just never to you.

Finger hovering against the trigger, ready to fire at a moments notice, you watched Peña nudge the door open with the toe of his boot. The two of you stepped inside, to be confronted with an explicit scene; the woman stepped away, hastily trying to cover herself as the sicario rushed to pull up his pants and flee. Messina had instructed you to bring him in alive, if at all possible; and you chased after the shirtless man, while Peña rushed the woman out of the room and back to the nervous group of women that were waiting below.

The sicario had jumped from the window onto the roof below; it was a short drop, no more than six feet, and you were quick to follow along behind him. As he ran along the rooftop, he turned back to look at you, his face contorted with a mixture of rage and fear that genuinely made your stomach go cold. This man was not going to go down easily — and your assessment was proven to be right as you saw the silver of his gun glint in the low evening light, before several shots were fired off in your direction. You turned on your heel quickly, shielding yourself behind a crumbling brick wall; you could’ve sworn you felt a bullet whiz past your head right before you stepped out of harm’s way. Taking a second to catch your breath, you observed that Peña had now joined you on the rooftop, keeping you covered as you pursued the sicario.

The shingles on the rooftop were loose, but you kept your balance as the sicario came into your line of sight once again. More shots were fired, and you knew that this was going to end one of two ways — with two dead DEA agents, or with a dead sicario. It was an easy call to make, and your finger that had been hovering against the trigger curled inwards for the first time that night. Your gun fired twice, as two bullets lodged themselves decisively into the man’s chest.

Peña called out your name, a mix of fear and anger bleeding into his words as he caught up to you. “Fucking Christ, Doctora — are you alright?”

You nodded, still catching your breath from the precarious rooftop pursuit. “Are — are the women safe?”

Agent Peña nodded in response, his face showing a hint of relief that this stakeout had ended with only one death. You caught the hint of what could’ve been a smile, but it came and went so quickly that you might’ve imagined it.

“Damn good shot, hermosa.”

Your entire body was positively vibrating from the adrenaline that was pumping through your bloodstream, and Agent Peña’s words sent something intoxicating and primal rushing through you. He cocked his chin upwards at you, smiling easily as he stood next to the dead man’s body that was now baking in the Colombian heat.

You realized, somewhat abruptly, that this was the first time Peña had ever said something positive to you. From your very first day, he had fought against you and dismissed you at every possible turn; hell, even when he was trying to get in your pants, he never said actually anything nice. You were filled with frustration that you had to work this goddamned hard to get an ounce of respect, but at the same time… this small bit of praise set your entire body on fire, and for a moment you felt like something within you might explode like a Molotov cocktail.

You loved it.

God knows you shouldn’t, but your rational brain had been entirely shut down by the rush of adrenaline and dopamine that had flooded it. And suddenly, you moved forward on instinct, all thought and reason fading into a chaotic white noise. Stepping forward into Peña’s intimidating and tense frame, you saw something briefly spark and catch fire in his eyes, and you noticed for the first time just how rich and deep those brown eyes were. You grabbed the straps of the kevlar vest, yanking him forward — and you weren’t sure what exactly you wanted to happen in this moment, but you were entirely sure of what your body needed, and Peña seemed to share that need as he growled lowly in your ear, before his arms were fully encasing you and pressing you into the rough concrete wall.

For once, you didn’t stop to think about what was the right choice, the good choice, the reasonable choice. Your lips collided with Peña’s, a harsh and desperate attack, a mess of tongues, teeth, and needy breaths. His lips were chapped but surprisingly soft and full; his mustache grazed against your blazing skin, and you loved the roughness of it. And as your bodies pressed closer and closer together, needing that contact and friction that only the other could give, you felt a spark of tension in your gut as you felt the considerably large length of his cock pressed against you despite the layers that kept your bodies separated. “Fuck,” you gasped, tearing away from Peña’s overwhelming, intoxicating kiss; and he laughed into the soft skin of your neck before biting down.

“Could you ask nicely?”

He couldn’t have just kept his goddamn mouth shut, could he?

As soon as the antagonistic words left his mouth, the rumbling vibrations of them echoing against your flushed skin, you felt your passion transform into a thunderstorm of hatred. You pulled away from his grasp, the abruptness of it threatening to offset his balance on the shaky rooftop. The thought didn’t sound as terrible as it should have.

You couldn’t believe you had done that, couldn’t believe you had let Javier Peña exercise any sort of control over you, couldn’t believe that you had given into him so easily. He opened his mouth to speak once more, and jesus fucking christ you had heard enough of him for one day. And so, for the second time that day, you slapped a DEA agent. Except this time, you had absolutely no regrets for it.

“Fuck you, Peña,” you spat at him, making your way back to the brothel, moving away from him as quickly as your shaking legs could carry you. You heard sirens moving closer through the communa and understood that Colombian police had arrived; you’d have to make a statement, sign off on a few things, but your full report would wait for you until tomorrow. You needed to get home and wash off the dirt of the evening — from the chase, and from Peña’s filthy touch — and you needed a drink and a cigarette.

You fulfilled the barest of obligations before you stalked away from the brothel; you had avoided Peña’s intense and flaming gaze so far, and you intended to keep it that way. You had barely made it a block away before you recognized his footsteps behind you; you didn’t need to look back to know who was following you. “Agent Peña, if you don’t turn your ass around right now, I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

He laughed, and god that made you furious. You were about to make good on your threat when he spoke up. “Get your ass in the car, doctora. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

You laughed coldly, almost cruelly before turning around to face him. “You must have brain damage if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I’ll walk home — I don’t care how far it is.”

Peña’s hand grabbed onto you roughly, as he opened his big mouth again. “You’ve been shot at enough for one night, and I don’t want the paperwork and hearings that would come along with a FBI agent turning up dead on my watch.”

You wrenched your arm away from him, glaring at him viciously before you moved to walk back in the direction of the shared vehicle. You felt a sickening sort of anger trail down your spine as you were forced to recognize that Peña was unfortunately right. You were livid, you were stubborn, but you weren’t stubborn enough to get yourself killed over this. It nearly killed you to comply with Peña’s instructions, but that was at least marginally more survivable than a night spent walking Medellín’s streets alone.

The drive back to the compound was silent as the grave and incredibly tense, but thankfully short. You launched yourself out of the car before Peña even had it fully in park, and you bolted towards your car, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and Peña as possible. Maybe then, you could finally breathe, rather than be absolutely consumed by this firestorm of your own dumb creation.

Your car rumbled to life, and you peeled out of the compound with concerning speed — you gasped for air as the fury inside of you began to smoke and smolder, your mind becoming marginally clearer with every inch of distance that you put between yourself and Agent Peña. You groaned in frustration, both with Peña and yourself, and you repeatedly hit the steering wheel, your body needing an outlet as it was unable to continue to hold everything inside.

You were supposed to be smarter than this. You were supposed to be stronger than this, wiser than this, above all of the chaos and sex and intrigue. You were a professional, with degrees, with titles and awards, and you were acting like a reckless, horny teenager. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Your hands shook uncontrollably, an avalanche of emotions crashing around you as you pulled into the garage, only to be closely followed by Peña. Rolling your eyes, you walked briskly up the stairs and to your door, hoping to lock the door, deadbolting it so neither the day nor Peña could catch up to you.

You heard heavy footsteps getting closer, and you couldn’t seem to get your key to fit in the lock fast enough — and then suddenly Peña was all you could see, all you could sense, as he had planted himself between you and your front door. You groaned, just wanting to be rid of him. “Get out of my way.”

He remained rigid, his forearms crossed over the broad chest that you had been pressed against barely two hours ago. You looked up into dark eyes that were now almost entirely black, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you with an infuriatingly attractive combination of a frown and a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere, hermosa. I think we have some unfinished business,” he hummed, his gaze tracing across you languidly, as if he couldn’t see the anger rolling off of you.

You elbowed him in the side, trying to shove him away from your door. “The only business we have, Peña, is catching Escobar — and since I’m not hiding him in my apartment, I’m gonna ask you again to get the fuck out of my way.”

He laughed, and the sound made your eye twitch — but something else twitched inside of you too. “You’ve got a smart mouth, hermosa. I like that about you, I do. Even when you’re being a bitch,” he said, something dark and powerful creeping into his voice. Before you knew what was happening, you felt two hands moving against your body, one gripping your hip and the other tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Bet that mouth would do even better with my cock in it.”

You gasped, the sound quickly devolving into a pathetic moan as Peña pulled harshly against your hair, forcing you to stare upwards at him. You — you were mad — fuck, you were supposed to be mad — but every nerve ending was blazing like Australian wildfires as you watched your supposedly-strong resolve crumble around you. The hand that wasn’t tightly grasping your keys swung upwards to connect with Peña’s annoyingly-perfect jawline, but instead of striking him, your hand snaked upwards to aggressively yank a handful of his hair — and pull his parted lips to collide with yours.

Surely this was the ninth circle of hell, surely this was the endless inferno that Dante wrote about; it was if the whole world had gone up in flames around you, dragging you into its blistering depths. But despite the burning, despite the scorching, blistering heat, you didn’t feel any impulse or desire to flee. Instead, you chose to dance with the devil — a devil with a mouth made of sin, and a touch that burned like eternal damnation.

The key finally clicked in the lock, a small sound, but one that still detonated like a bomb; there was no coming back from this moment. One of Peña’s broad hands released its grip on you as he opened the door fully, confidently guiding you through the doorway and into your apartment. He kicked the door closed with startling ferocity, but it barely even registered in your mind as you were absolutely lost to your own desire. You hadn’t felt anything like this before, had never felt an all-consuming sort of passion and need that felt as though it could break you in two.

No sooner than the door had closed, Peña’s hands gripped your ass with an intensity that made you gasp in shock and excitement. He growled lowly, the sound quickly lost in the conflict of your mouths as you both kissed, nipped, and bit at each other, each trying to establish dominance — but in the end it was just a mess, primal and filthy, with an edge of pain that only fueled the fire.

Peña was ruthless and unfair in the way that he used his leverage against you; he moved to guide you to the couch, to any sort of surface that could hold the weight of your bodies, and yet you resisted. You couldn’t let him have the power here, in your own apartment, in your own territory. But as soon as your muscles tightened and flexed underneath him, showing opposition, his broad hands that had been digging into your ass now lifted you up entirely off of the ground as though your weight was nothing to him.

Your mouth shifted away from his reddened lips, and your teeth grazed against his pulse point with just a slight increase in pressure — just enough to remind him who he was contending with. He pushed you, and you pushed right back; your resolve might’ve cracked, but you certainly weren’t broken by him. Never compliant, never an easy conquest, not easily won over or inherently submissive. Two bodies collapsed onto your grey couch, the fabric creating friction against any and all exposed skin; it had never seen any company other than yourself, and it was still stiff from the lack of use, but you were well on your way to breaking it in as Peña rolled himself on top of you.

Holding himself up on his forearms, Peña’s frame hovered above you; every muscle in his slim frame was taut, and you could see the desperation and want in his gaze, his eyes feasting on you like he was a man starved. The look almost beguiled you, almost made you forget the laundry list of prostitutes and informants — but nothing could eradicate that history, not bleach, not antibiotics, not steel wool, not confessions to a priest. His history was undeniable, unavoidable, and while you were well aware of it, you found that… you didn’t care much about it in this moment.

The intensity of his gaze, the lust in his eyes, made you preen with a shallow sort of pride; he wanted you. He needed you.

He probably looked at every woman like this.

You kicked away the intrusive thought, not wanting to acknowledge it, at least not tonight. You were already too far gone, all rationale and reason having been abandoned on that crumbling Colombian rooftop. He wanted you, he needed you, and you needed to indulge yourself in this half-truth, this shell of desire.

The buttons of Peña’s shirt came undone with relative ease, your nimble fingers moving quickly to expose the tanned expanse of his chest that was breathing shallowly, suspended above you. He was deceptively muscled, his thinner frame beguiling, hiding his thickly corded and defined build. You admired the frame that caged you in, eyes eagerly taking in the sight as your hands traced across the ridges and intersections of muscle.

“Eager, aren’t we, hermosa?”

You rolled your eyes, nails intentionally scratching against his tanned skin as you pulled the button-down shirt away from him. He was infuriating, but that fury only fueled the fire; it was like fire and gasoline, the two of you together like this. Despite his antagonistic ways, you were on a mission — apparently, a mission straight to hell, and right now you needed him out of those ridiculously tight clothes that he wore.

His belt buckle was next stop along your journey of dangerous decisions, and when you struggled to get it undone, you rolled your eyes in frustration and laid back into the sofa. “Y’gonna do any of the work here, Peña? Because if it’s just gonna be me, I’d rather just go get myself off like I did last night — “

Peña cut you off with a rough kiss, one hand forcefully cupping your jaw as the heat of his tongue delved into your mouth. His other hand pulled at your shirt, and you heard a stray button bounce across your floor as the garment was roughly undone. He pulled back unexpectedly, and you whined in a mix of both disappointment and annoyance. “Peña, what the fu—“

“D’you ever shut up, hermosa?”

Dark laughter stirred from deep within you, and some small part of you knew you were about to regret these words — and yet you dove headfirst into this antagonistic, hedonistic recklessness. You jutted your chin upwards, staring him dead-on in the eyes as you grinned.

“Make me.”

The words had been whispered, but the challenge in them was undeniable. Peña stood and undid his belt before quickly kicking off his pants, and much to your surprise, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Just as you were about to make a snide comment, Peña’s hands grasped you roughly and hauled you off of the couch, your knees abruptly connecting with the cool laminate flooring. Peña sat down on the couch casually, his thickly muscled thighs spreading as he guided your small frame to rest between his legs; and you couldn’t help but stare with your lips parted as you took in the sight of his fully-exposed cock, which was standing erect before you. The length was impressive, and you couldn’t help but notice the prominent vein that ran along his shaft, but the thickness of it was what made your body throb in anticipation and need. You could feel the dampness growing between your thighs, despite the lower half of your body still being conservatively clothed, and some quiet but rational, realistic part of you wondered how you could ever take all of that inside you.

“C’mon, querida, put that smart mouth to good use,” Peña drawled, his gun-calloused hand reaching out to trace along your jawline before playfully tweaking your lip. Despite Peña’s intentionally provoking words, you held the power right now. And for now, he was forced to wait — forced to wait for you to move forward. You reveled in the power that you held in this moment; your head was cradled between the spread legs of the United States government’s most dangerous DEA agent, and yet you understood that right now, you were the one in charge, the one in control, the one in command. That truth alone sent an electric kind of excitement coursing through you.

You placed both of your soft hands onto Peña’s muscled thighs, noticing how he quivered at your touch; and as you licked away the precum spilling from his reddened tip, you reveled in how he groaned desperately, wantonly, with every trick of your tongue and lips. You licked a wide, flat stripe along the underside of his thick and twitching cock, before swirling your tongue around the reddened and swollen head several times, and then finally taking him entirely into your mouth and into your throat. The unfiltered, unrestrained sounds of pleasure Peña made while your mouth was on him only bolstered your confidence; and you pushed yourself to take his length even further, feeling his neatly trimmed pubic hair brush against your nose as the full, hardened extent of Peña completely filled your mouth and throat. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, threatening to make you gag on his length. Breathing through your nose was crucial, as Peña’s cock was now fully lost to the open warmth of your mouth, and his cock twitched with each stroke and sway of your tongue.

You felt a quivering need growing within your core, aching from the distinct absence you felt, needing to feel him inside of you. At a certain point, you apparently weren’t moving along him at a sufficient pace, and you could feel him repeatedly rutting against the back of your throat before he suddenly used a fistful of your hair as leverage, to move up you and down his length at a startling speed. You pushed against your body’s instinctual urge to gag or pull away, the full sensation of him buried in your throat being almost too much to bear; tears pricked your eyes at the overwhelming sensation, and the few that escaped only seemed to spur Peña forward — quite literally.

Absolute filth was spilling from Peña’s mouth, a fragmented mix of English and Spanish, as he simultaneously praised and degraded you; and yet you somehow found pleasure in both the degradation and the affirmation. You were certain that you could never set foot in a church after this evening with Peña; his consecration and desecration of your body would surely be unforgivable.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl - so fuckin’ good, takin’ me so deep in your mouth like that,” he panted, his length now ramming forcefully against the back of your throat, making you choke and heave in the most desperate way. “Got you fucked silent — ‘least for a goddamned minute — clearly you like t’run that fucking mouth — turns out you just needed a cock shoved in it t’keep you quiet.”

His calloused hands found their place in your hair, twisting and pulling in a way that allowed for him to fully control your movements; pulling you up and away from his throbbing cock, you choked on the sudden intake of oxygen and fought to regain some semblance of composure, but you were already too far gone. Peña smirked at the sight of you; your makeup smeared and melting, drooling at the corners of your mouth, your head feeling dizzy — which only served to send his ego sky-high.

“Mmm, so you’ve clearly enjoyed my cock so far, querida, but what will you share with me? Maybe,” he paused, moving his thickly-corded arm against your body and towards your core. “Maybe, you’ll share this sweet, desperate, pathetic fucking pussy with me.”

You whined wantonly, embarrassingly, as his nimble fingers moved along your sex. Tracing torturously slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, you whimpered, before moving your hips to chase his featherlight touch. This was the man that you hated, the man who had made each and every day a living nightmare. And yet —

Your body arched upwards, into the wise and knowing touches of Peña’s hand, feeling the fire in your belly stoking even higher and higher as you chased the orgasm that you questioned if he would allow you.

Two thick, trigger-trained digits sank deeply and definitively into your heat, stretching you out in preparation for what was to come; you gasped in delight and surprise at the feeling of Peña’s fingers buried within you, feeling full in a way that you hadn’t experienced in quite a while. You rocked yourself against his hands, soft sighs escaping from your constricted throat.

“Well would you look at that,” he hummed, a self-satisfied smirk taking up residence on his chiseled jaw. “You’re takin’ my fingers so good. You ready to have my cock buried in that desperate fucking pussy? Shit, querida, feels like you’ve never been fucked right before, the way you’re fuckin’ grippin’ me right now.”

Your sense of pride and civility had clearly been lost, as you writhed beneath him with an embarrassing degree of desperation; he had nipped and barbed and jabbed you into a sort of submission, quelling some of the fire that typically stirred within you. All you needed was him — and you lost any and all sense of shame as your body vocalized what your heart and your head could not. “No, Javi, haven’t been — fuck — need you to fuck me, please, been so long —“

He chuckled darkly, his voice roughened from the countless cigarettes and hours of angry, desperate interrogations. “Shit, all you had to do was ask, hermosa — would’ve given you what you needed — no need for all this fighting.”

You rolled your eyes instinctively as you stood up from the laminate flooring, your joints appreciating the relief as you stretched with a satisfying sigh. Your surprisingly-steady hand reached out to connect with Peña’s muscled chest, pushing him backwards and into the couch with no small degree of force. Without his body pressed so distinctly against yours, it was much easier to stoke your flame of arrogance and irritation that had served you so incredibly well in getting under Peña’s last nerves. Feeling a particularly agitated spark growing within your chest, you leaned into it, spitting your words at the DEA agent before you. “Clearly, fighting is like fucking foreplay for you, Peña. Have you ever fucked someone who didn’t hate you? Even once?”

He was silent for a moment, and you could see the absolute maelstrom of hatred and lust and rage and agitation and attraction that was boiling within him. A disturbing sense of peace settled around you for just a moment, allowing you to speak once more. “How about Lorraine, huh? How much did she hate you, before you left her at the altar? — Oh, yeah, I read your file — the interviews, the background check, all of it. You broke her heart, but truth be told, you never really had it to begin with.”

Ooh, shit. You had probably crossed about eight too many lines with that last comment; you were never good at knowing where to stop, once you had finally been pushed past that threshold. You were calm and collected 99% of the time; but goddamn, if someone pushed you to that 1%, all lines and limits were gone, obliterated by your ego and rage.

Although you knew that you had severely overstepped, a mixture of fear and pride surged within your gut, only to be met by the stinging blow of Peña’s hand against the soft expanse of your cheek. The heat and the pressure of the blow was blistering, but in a terrifyingly satisfying way, and you fought to bite down the pathetic sound that momentarily threatened to break through. Your head shifted with the blow, but not before you noticed the startlingly blank and inexpressive look on Peña’s face.

“Oh no, you don’t hate me, Doctora,” he drawled casually, his darkened eyes dragging across you like nails on a chalkboard; his gaze was intense, overwhelming, made a shiver run down your spine. “No, you see, you just hate how you feel about me, hate how desperate I make you feel.” His voice was low and tense, you could almost feel the pressure in his throat and chest, constricting within your own body.

You rolled your eyes in an illusion of annoyance, secretly reveling in the way you had gotten under this skin, to surprise him, to unnerve and shock him. Your response was just as leisurely of a drawl as his had been. “Didn’t answer my question, Peña.”

His dark eyes locked with yours, the intensity almost terrifying. “I’ve never fucked anyone who wasn’t eagerly consenting. And while you may act like you’re some tough, cold-hearted, emotionless bitch, I can see right through you.”

“Oh yes — I can see that you’re so meticulously in control all of the time, it’s an obsessive need. And shit, querida, it makes working with you a fuckin’ nightmare, especially with you nagging me about details all the goddamn time. And yet even with all the nagging, even with the locktight grip, you’re always so… calm. Always so… rigid. No, not rigid.”

“Frigid? Is that the word I was looking for? Yes, I think so.” He chuckled dismissively, eyes skating across you.

“Ah, but I can see through all that bullshit, querida. You might be the boss out in the real world, sure — but in the bedroom? You’re the kind of girl that needs someone to wrestle away that control, to make you fuckin’ submit,” he choked out harshly, an avalanche of need crashing through him as his large palms roughly grabbed your hip and your jaw. You could feel his trimmed nails digging into your flesh and you whimpered wantonly, reflexively; you had no sense of shame in this moment, although the morning light might hold other truths.

You had tried to fight off the crashing, overpowering sense of desire and desperation that rolled through you, as Peña clocked the truth for what it was. He was right, that you needed release — and not just in the form of an orgasm. No, you needed to relinquish control — the same control which you clung to desperately, insistently, continuously. You needed to let it all go, to let someone else direct you and guide you, to take charge, to take the weight of responsibility and propriety off of your shoulders.

But that submission wouldn’t come easily; oh no, it would be hard-fought, and a feat in and of itself. Submission meant trusting Peña wholly, and relinquishing your hard-fought, somewhat-authoritarian sense of self.

Had Peña earned any sort of submission from you yet? Had he shown you any evidence as to why you should trust him? No, you thought to yourself. He hadn’t even made you cum, much less given you any sort of indication that you held any more value than the prostitutes he frequented. You might have a secret and inherent need to submit — but you weren’t going to make it easy for him, you weren’t going to be coaxed into submission by just anyone.

Peña’s thickly-corded arms wrapped around your frame, picking you up and lifting you effortlessly before depositing you onto the still-stiffened couch. The rough grey fabric dragged across your back with each movement with each shuffle and adjustment, but you didn’t dislike it, as the abrasive stimulation heightened your senses. Peña hovered above you, his weight resting on his forearms, as his deep brown eyes searched yours for any last-minute indication of hesitation or reservation.

Sensing none, he leaned downwards and kissed you aggressively; your tongues danced against one another in a sloppy symphony before you felt the broad head of his cock pressing against your center. You cried out as you felt the heavy tip of him brush against your clit, only to pull away in a teasing manner. Your breath hitched with each teasing stroke against your soaking-wet folds, and you viciously dug your nails into his tanned, muscled back; with all of that teasing, he deserved to feel some degree of desecration and degradation as well.

Just as your clawed hand was moving towards his narrow, sharply-cut hipbone, he sank deeply into the throbbing and pulsating heat of your cunt. You cried out at the excessive intrusion, your body struggling to take all that which he was giving; and Peña’s already-fragmented voice shattered as he lost himself to the incredibly tight and gripping sensation of your cunt.

“P-Peña — “ You began, your overwhelming desperation for him now hanging on the tip of your tongue.

His calloused hand came upwards to trace against your jawline, before finding its resting place against your throat, the intention behind the pressure entirely unmistakeable. His thumb was pressed securely against your jugular, while his remaining fingers corded themselves across the expanse of your throat. Using his newfound leverage to slightly cant your face upwards, he stared contentedly down at you, his projected calmness beguiling that which roiled underneath the surface. “You’re gonna call me by my name when I’m fucking you, querida.”

You coughed out a rackety, quiet laugh, despite the hand that was wrapped around your throat and constricted your air supply. “Call you — call you by your name? Is that what you want?” You asked, something vicious and darkly spiteful roiling inside of you, in conjunction with the shockwaves of pleasure that radiated through your body. You felt Peña slam his hips shamelessly into your quaking frame, understanding that at this time he was intent on teaching you a lesson, proving a point — presumably one about respect, or maybe about keeping your mouth shut. Not that you were good at either of those things in this context.

“No, I don’t think I will, Agent Peña.” You smiled coldly. You were never a model student anyway.

He continued to drive into you at an unyielding pace, until you were left soaked and sweat-stained. Halfway-suffocated, faintly-choked cries fled from your lips, assuming Peña was not keeping your lips otherwise occupied; you felt dizzy, disoriented, like you were spinning and tumbling through zero gravity, and though the only thing keeping you earthbound was Peña’s forceful thrusts that kept you rammed into the abrasive fabric of your grey couch. The lights of the apartment were blurry, all you could hear was the explicit slapping and squelching of your bodies conjoined with the fuzzy sound of the radio, and all you could feel was the weight of Peña’s body driving into yours.

You felt a familiar tight heat swelling within your abdomen, and you wrenched your eyes shut as you chased that high, chased that release; and right as you were hovering against that edge, walking on that tightrope of desire, Peña abruptly pulled away from you. The complete loss of contact was disorienting; you felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, tumbling and spinning and out of control.

Catching your breath, you gazed up at Peña with confusion and rage. Before you had a moment to think, your hand swung upwards to connect with his stubbled jawline —

The stinging in your palm felt perfectly indulgent, satisfying the rage in your chest, but it was short lived.

Peña tutted like a schoolteacher, his hand coming upwards to gently cradle yours. “That’s not how you get what you want, hermosa. Only nice girls get to cum.” You were about to fire off a retort, before his palm securely wrapped around yours; using his leverage, he brought your own hand downwards to crush against your throat, holding it in place as you writhed underneath him and gasped for air. He surveyed you with a neutral expression, flexing his grip against you experimentally. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

You sputtered out a stifled and gritty response.

“Go fuck yourself,” you choked, pure hatred coursing throughout your veins.

Peña laughed coldly. “I know you don’t really mean that, hermosa. Which is why,” he sighed dramatically. “Which is why I’m going to make you cum. Honestly, I just have a feeling that you’ll be less of a miserable bitch once you do. Call it an investment in my future.”

You vision was spotting in some places, some areas growing dark and indistinct; and although you pushed back against his powerful grip, he still continued to hold your own hand against your throat. As the world began to swim and sway around you, something cracked — like a crack in the Earth’s crust, like an earthquake that threatened to swallow cities. Something cracked — and that something was you.

The fight within you finally died out, like a fire that had been sufficiently suffocated. Your body relaxed, giving into every thrust, every inch, every ounce of contact and pleasure that was offered, and you didn’t fight it any longer. You felt an immense sense of relief with your relinquishing, with your submission; and as Peña continued to ram his cock deep within the pulsating heat of your cunt, you whined pathetically and greedily.

“Shit, Peña, please — fuck — Javi, please let me cum — please let me cum for you —“

He groaned in overwhelming, intoxicating pleasure — you had finally let go, you had finally been wrestled into submission, and hearing you beg for him? That threatened to make him finish right then and there. But he was a gentleman, despite behaviors which would indicate otherwise, and he was determined to have you finish first. Grinning widely, boyishly, his hands moved away from your throat; one moved to trace down across your goosebump-covered flesh before roughly playing with your nipples, while the other hand found its proper placement at the apex of your thighs, carefully and consciously stroking, tweaking, pinching, and rubbing at your sensitive clit.

Your body was tensing and tightening with each thrust, with each stroke, with every modicum of contact, and Peña had to bite the inside of his lip to fight off his impending orgasm; he had to tear his gaze away from your face, knowing that the look of blatant, unabashed pleasure on your face would be his undoing.

You felt your abdominal muscles twitching, as a familiar and overwhelming heat crested within you like a tidal wave. “Javi — fuck, Javi — gonna, fuck — m’gonna cum, please, please, please,” you cried, feeling the blistering heat of unshed tears with every blink of your bloodshot eyes.

He growled lowly, quickening his paces in every manner possible. “C’mon, doctora, cum for me — let that pretty pussy make a mess of me — gimme somethin’ good to think about when you’re being an absolute fucking cunt at work —“

The orgasm hit you like a train that was barreling off the tracks, crashing headfirst into you, knocking the air out of your lungs and your soul out of your body; clenching and crying around his cock, wave after wave of pleasure and overstimulation assaulted and assuaged you, leaving you wholly disoriented and lost to the white-hot heat that obliterated and assaulted every nerve within your body. You whimpered and whined pathetically as he continued to pound into your overstimulated and now-pliant body, chasing his own high as your thoroughly-fucked cunt fluttered and gripped the length of his cock.

You were fully spent, melting into the sofa as he tossed you around like a rag doll; his broad and blisteringly-hot hand found its way to your cheek once more, but rather than slapping you as he had earlier, his index and middle finger traced roughly across your lip before forcing your mouth open, proceeding to bury both digits in the wet heat of your mouth.

“Si, si, mierda — perfect fuckin’ cunt, gonna f-fill you up, querida, y’gonna feel me inside you all fuckin’ week —“

Peña’s words were cut off abruptly by a low groan that echoed throughout the small apartment space, threatening to rattle the damn windows; and you felt his cock twitch inside of you, as your insides were coated with the sticky heat of his release. While some small part of you was alarmed by this, another, more primal part of you reveled in it, a strange and curling sense of satisfaction snaking its way up your spine.

His frame sank into yours as the orgasm subsided, the weight of his body pressing you further into the couch. Some small part of you wanted to draw out this contact, wanted to hold him tightly against you as your hearts beat in tandem to a nervous and staccato rhythm; but a sinuous and sinister piece won out, reminding you of exactly how much you hated this man and the suffering that he had subjected you to, reminding you of all of the other women he had shared this sort of intimacy with.

It was as though two armies were now colliding within you, one fighting to keep him close and to cling to this exceptionally vulnerable connection, while the other fought to force him out, to exile him and to regain the control that had been stripped from you.

Peña seemed less concerned about the weight of the world surrounding you as he rolled the hot weight of his body off of yours, still cradling you closely to him as he relaxed into the sofa. His sinewy, muscled arms wrapped securely around your midsection, holding you tightly against his sweating, gasping frame as you both fought for some semblance of composure.

“Put up an awful dramatic fight there, querida, but it was fun while it lasted. Took you a goddamn minute to learn your place. So now, my question is, are you still gonna be this stubborn and frigid in the office?”

Oh, that comment was truly the end of your rope.

You rose abruptly from the couch, extracting yourself from his grasp. That familiar caustic flame of hatred was reignited within you, making your haunches rise up and your skin prickle at the very sight of him. “What happened tonight, Peña, was a fluke. An error. A deviation. You can rest assured that this,” you emphasized, gesturing between the two of you. “This will never happen again.”

He continued to lean against your couch, stark naked, half-hardened cock resting against his thighs. “I don’t believe that for a goddamned minute, doctora. Clearly nobody’s fucked you like I have. I’ll be waiting, for whenever you come back ‘round.”

You sputtered, trying to settle on a snarky response as he pulled his pants up and tossed his shirt over his shoulder. He winked at you as his broad hand — the same hand that had been buried within you, wrapped around your throat, tweaking your nipples, pinching your clit — turned the doorknob and opened the door to the sweltering heat of the Medellín night.

“I’ll see you Monday morning, querida. Bright and early.”

****************

TAGLIST: @knivesareout @bdavishiddlesbatch @louderrthanthunderr @pedrostories @onebrownoneblue

[parker-razor]

The Edge

Santiago “Pope” Garcia/F!Reader E 18+ ONLY 2.1k

Sometimes, being good is exhausting. You meet Santi, and he gives you what you need, instead. 

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), protected sex, a little bit of choking and dirty talk, top!Santi, rough sex, consenting adults doing Very Naughty things, this is unproofread pure wish fulfilment I’m sorry.

You’ve never been into dangerous men.

It’s always been the soft ones - the gentle ones - the harmless ones, the ones that follow you around like wet toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your heel. And that’s been okay, it’s been good, you’ve been safe - but you’re so far inland that the edge is something distant and foreign to you. 

Until now.

Until him.

Santi, he introduces himself with dark eyes and a charming half-smile and a warm handshake, and later you learn it’s short for Santiago and that he’s military, or former military - a contractor or an advisor or whatever-the-fuck, it doesn’t matter; you would normally be running for the hills by now. You don’t mess with Army boys, or Navy boys, or anything in between or beyond. It’s too dangerous.

And Santiago is definitely dangerous. It radiates off him - an aura of tightly controlled strength - like you don’t know what he’s capable of, and that is enticingly scary. 

You’ve always been a good girl. But he makes you wonder what you’ve been missing.

Keep reading

[parker-razor]

hello dears! i’ve made a form for my taglist if any of you are interested! link is also in my bio, thanks for all the love!!

[parker-razor]

show me, feel me, teach me - ch. 7

previous // next

female!reader x mando

1.8k words, 18+ only!

series summary: during a drinking game, you let slip that you don't know much about sex. mando offers to show you what you've been missing, and you happily accept.

warnings: SMUT!! (extended warnings under cut), lots of fluff, really rough sex so pls read at your own discretion

a/n: this is straight up porn. like truly the filthiest thing i've ever written. it's shorter than what i would've liked, but i was too excited to get it out. if some of the things explored in this chapter aren’t your thing, you can easily skip this one without missing a beat💕

extended warnings: roughhhh sex, manhandling, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, overstimulation, edging, mention of safe word, dumbification, innocence kink, borderline dubcon

*****

“Ma-Mandoooo…”

Mando’s tongue was wedged in your hole with the vibrator held against your clit. You were... five orgasms in? Six? Twenty-seven? Between orgasm two and three, Mando felt compelled to make sure this was what you wanted, even if you didn’t know what he was planning on doing to you.

*****

“I want to show you something a little… unorthodox.”

You were still trying to catch your breath from the first couple of orgasms while taking in Mando’s words.

“I-I don’t understand… what do you mean by unorthodox?”

“Do you trust me? I can make you feel so good, baby, but I need you to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, Mando. But you have to give me some idea…”

“I want to be… rough on you. You’re just so delicate and pure. I want to break you; make you scream and cry. But not if you don’t want me to.” He placed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your gaze up at his visor. “You say ‘Crest,’ and everything stops. But you say anything else? I’ll only go harder. Deal?”

You were speechless, not totally sure what Mando had in store for you. But you wanted to give him everything. So, you did.

*****

You couldn’t speak, at least in complete sentences. All your body could manage to say was “Mando” and “please” and “stop” and “more.” Oh, it was torture, but you fucking loved it.

“Shut up, princess, just fucking take it. What, all you can say is ‘please, Mando’? Did I fuck you that stupid?” Mando asked condescendingly into your pussy.

Mando had never talked to you like this before. You didn’t even think to have him talk to you like this. Sex always seemed like a romantic activity, soft and passionate. And while this was undoubtedly passionate, it was far from soft.

“I-I can’t-t,” you whined, your hips going between bucking into Mando’s mouth or away from it. What surprised you most was when Mando pulled all contact away and slapped your pussy with his hand.

“You’re so fucking greedy, you little brat. You don’t wanna cum anymore? Fine, don’t cum.” You sighed in relief, until Mando buried his face back into your cunt. He immediately sucked your clit into his mouth and drew circles around it with his tongue.

Instantly, you felt your body start to tense up, hips locking into place as that growing burn spread in your groin. You could cry, so close to coming again. As if Mando could sense it, he pulled away.

“Nuh uh, baby, what did I just say? Did you already forget, you dumb little thing? You. Can’t. Cum,” Mando growled, enunciating each word with a slap to your clit. And yet again, Mando sucked your clit between his lips and bit down lightly with his teeth. On cue, you felt your body tense up more and more as you tried to keep your orgasm at bay.

“Mand-do, I n-need to c-c-cum…”

“I thought you didn’t want to anymore, little girl. Can’t make up your mind? Look at yourself in the mirror.”

You struggled to open your eyes, but once you did you were shocked.

Your hair stood up all over the place, frizzy and wild. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your eyes puffy and face swollen in embarrassment and arousal. Your legs were trembling, your arms were trembling, your chin was trembling. You were a fucking wreck.

“You’re so ungrateful, baby. Now, you don’t get to cum. Not until I say.” You could feel yourself start to sob when Mando dipped his tongue back in your hole.

It went on for fucking ages. Every time you got close to coming, which happened every other minute, Mando would pull away, slap your thigh, and reprimand you for even thinking he’d let you finish.

After edging you for over an hour (you think), Mando finally came up from air.

“Oh, you poor little thing, you wanna cum so bad don’t you? Was none of that not good enough for you? So fucking greedy,” Mando rasped. And when he shoved two fingers into you, you fucking screamed.

“MANDO!”

“Do it, princess. Squirt all over me. Do it now, or you don’t come for a week,” Mando growled in your ear, pistoning his fingers straight into your spot.

“I-I Mando, I-“

“Okay, make it two weeks.” Tears streamed down your face as you felt an intense build in your stomach that spread down your arms and legs.

“I d-don’t know… I f-feel w-weird…”

“Let go, you little slut. Cum before I don’t let you again.”

Oh, Maker.

Everything fucking exploded. Light lit up behind your eyelids and your limbs tensed up so much you thought you might cramp. This was insanity, coated in euphoria. This is what you imagined hyperspace would be like if it were a feeling.

“Shit, baby, you fucking soaked me. So hot and tight, I have to fuck you. You want my cock, stupid little girl? You think you can handle it?”

You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t form words. Everything pulsed and your heart was beating in your ears. All you could do was mumble and grumble and whine.

“Aw, I really fucked you dumb this time, didn’t I? Where’d you go, sweet thing? Maker, you were squeezing me so tight I couldn’t move my fingers.” When you could finally open your eyes again, Mando had his cock out and was stroking it with the fluids that got all over him when he fingered you. You thought you were close to tapping out, but at the sight of that, you were proved dead wrong.

He picked you up and threw you onto his bunk and placed gentle kisses up and down your stomach and chest. Sucking your nipples into his mouth, he brought back his roughness with a bite to each of them. He pulled you so your legs were hanging off the bed and he was standing between them. As if he couldn’t move fast enough, he brought the head of his cock to your weeping cunt, making you flinch and jolt off the bed.

“Oh, f-fucking Maker, little one, you’re scorching hot and s-soaking. How am I gonna last two seconds inside this sweet. Fucking. Cunt.” With each punctuated word he slapped his cock against your clit.

“Pl-Pleaseeee Mando, I c-can’t take it…”

“Oh yes you can, you will.” And with that, Mando shoved himself into you without warning.

Oh, fuck fuck fuck.

Everything lit up instantly. Mando’s thrusts were brutally fast and rough, not holding anything back. One of his hands gripped your face, making your cheeks squish together. He fucked you hard, fast, excruciatingly rough.

It’s like this whole time you had been living with him, sharing a life with him, he was keeping this side from you. He was restraining himself from all the demented and filthy things he wanted to do to you.

Your clean, white innocence drove him insane. He wanted to be gentle, to cherish and adore you like you deserved. But the questions you asked about pleasure, both for yourself and him, and the doe eyed gaze you wore when he taught you something even more corrupt, made him want to ruin you. Ruin you for anyone else, mark you as his own.

In another way, though, he was angry. Angry at himself, for all the terrible things he let happen to him and those he had once loved. Angry at the world, the Guild, the warriors who rescued him once upon a time. And now, you were open to him, allowing him to take all that anger out on you. It was the most selfless act he’d ever witnessed. You gave him your trust, with the simple hope that he’d give you his.

Your vocabulary was filled with “uh uh uhs” and pure screams. It felt so good it hurt, making your entire body burn. Every thrust assaulted your G-spot, and the coarse hair at the base of Mando’s cock brushed on your clit.

“Oh, oh, my sweet f-fucking baby, look at you. Drunk on my cock, just like I knew you would be. You like this, don’t you? Being my little fucktoy? Just a hole, wet and waiting for me…” You never thought that being spoken to so cruelly and condescendingly would be so delicious. Mando had always made you feel small and weak, and deep down you liked it. But now that you knew that Mando liked it too, there was no going back.

“I-I need it, please please please…”

“F-From now on, you only get to cum when I say. I own you now. You belong to me, understand?”

“Y-Yes daddy I-I’m yours…” In the spur of the moment, the new name for Mando just slipped past your lips. But it did not go unheard by the man fucking the life out of you.

“Oh, fucking Maker, say that again. You love this, don’t you little girl? Am I your daddy? I’ll take care of daddy’s little w-whore, fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

As soon as Mando gave you a particularly rough thrust that brutalized your cervix, everything flared up at once. Your screams were high and loud enough to shatter glass, your legs kicked at Mando’s back and legs, and your eyes crossed like one of those actresses in a dirty movie you caught a peak of years ago. This was beyond comprehension, and all you could hear yourself say was “daddy” and “thank you.”

Mando yelled out your name, giving you a few slower, yet powerful thrusts, fucking his cum back into you. His legs were shaking and about to give out, which was something that had never happened to him before. His grip on your thighs were steel, softening once you both came down from whatever the hell just happened.

You couldn’t open your eyes. Your body felt like it was floating in hyperspace and your mind was foggier than ever. You could feel Mando’s hand stroking your cheek, down your arms with gentle and loving squeezes. Whispers of praise and adoration tumbled from his lips and flowed like honey into your mind. Everything was warmth, and you were surrounded by light and comfort itself.

As if you couldn’t stop yourself from saying it, the words tumbled out: I love you.

A pause, and if you weren’t so out of your goddamn mind you’d start to panic and try to take it back. But once the words fully settled between you, Mando’s arms scooped you up, and laid you on top of him as he adjusted in the bed. He held you so tight you were afraid to breathe, but instead you drifted into peace itself as Mando breathed the words back to you.

*****

taglist: @niiight-dreamerrrr @ajeff855 @ohhersheybars @sleep-tight1 @jefferson-in-the-tardis @halerune @liltangerineart @thewintersoldierswife @chibi @greyteacup @justanotherblonde23 @hotsauceonabiscuit @pcrushinnerd @altarsw @nerd-without-a-cause @stardust-kenobi @tailormotelkamzoil @spideysimpossiblegirl @dincrypt

[parker-razor]

ahhhh thank you so much!!! truly makes my heart soar when i know people recommend my work, let alone like it!!

Welcome to The Control Room: Dom/Sub action to scratch that itch!

Everything here in The Smut Basement is for 18+ friends only! Minors and unverified persons will be blocked. Please heed ALL author warnings when you click a link.

Dave York (Equalizer 2)

Make Your Bed, Then Lie In It (Part 1) by @criticallyacclaimedstranger (Well, apparently Claire enjoys a good mean!Dave York fic, because this was so hot that Claire promised herself she wasn't going to read it until she was finished with homework, but her little fingers just danced right over to the link during a "short break" and now here we are. I hope you're happy... because I SURE AM!! --Claire)

We Can Do Better by @underwood0723 (Dom!Dave York x reader/wife, and he goes HARD and FILTHY. Please heed the warnings! And I'm a little scared, because Mary said she "didn't go full filthy" so now I'm wondering just what to expect now? Help?--Claire)

Wicked by @criticallyacclaimedstranger (This dom!Dave York piece was so hot that it made Claire break her "Friday" fic rec list and do a whole new Monday edition. It also made the author start writing more Dave York, so win-win for all of us!)

Din Djarin/Mando (The Mandalorian)

Just This Once by @mcfreakin-bxtch (This is a mean!Mando fic with a real hot fuck right up against the wall of the ship. Definitely need to keep a cold glass of water nearby while you read this, and maybe a fire extinguisher, too. Oh AND it’s just the first in the series. So have fun!! —Claire)

Show Me, Feel Me, Teach Me by @parker-razor (Din's ship assistant is a virgin, and the truth comes to light one night during a drinking game. Parking this here in The Control Room because of the innocence kink, and Mando taking control in a soft!Dom way to show her how good things could be. This was HOT!! As of this posting we're at 6 chapters. Can't wait for more! -Claire)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Yes Sir, Mr. Moreno by @absurdthirst (This is dom!Marcus Moreno and it is worth you clearing your schedule to read all 10k+ words. You will not be able to stand after reading this, like Claire, who temporarily lost function in her legs, so maybe clear a space to lay down, too.)

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

Stressed by @generallybrontidefeelings (A soft dom!Marcus Pike series to make you forget all your stresses where all you can think about is him railing you into next week. Pun from the interlude included. You’ll see. ) - Lauren

Zach Wellison (Brothers and Sisters)

Good Day by @yespolkadotkitty (I want you all to understand that YPDK is the Queen of writing hot shit for some of the lesser-known-but-no-less-hot Pedro characters, and this Zach Wellison fic is a prime example! Reader asks Zach to dominate her a little and he delivers!! Oh good lord does he deliver! I've read it about four different times now. Four. Please go follow my lead. -Claire)

To be continued...

Bottom of the Basement: Filthy Fic Recs Masterlist

[parker-razor]

quick question while i’m putting the finishing touches on the new chapter…. how would you guys feel about having the reader call Mando daddy?? i know some people don’t like that and it won’t become a dominant part of the series but i thought it’d be hot to explore….

[parker-razor]

idk what got into me for this one…. expect a filthy new installment tonight

a little sneak peak of the new chapter of show me...

“Mand-do, I n-need to c-c-cum…”

“I thought you didn’t want to anymore, little girl. Can’t make up your mind? Look at yourself in the mirror.”

You struggled to open your eyes, but once you did you were shocked.

Your hair stood up all over the place, frizzy and wild. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your eyes puffy and face swollen in embarrassment and arousal. Your legs were trembling, your arms were trembling, your chin was trembling. You were a fucking wreck.

“You’re so ungrateful, baby. Now, you don’t get to cum. Not until I say.” You could feel yourself start to sob when Mando dipped his tongue back in your hole.

series masterlist

[parker-razor]

i’m only one chapter into this series and i’m already hooked

nighthawks masterlist

ao3 || inspo || playlist || art || asks 

series warnings: smut (18+ only; ** denotes smut), slow burn, age gap, enemies to lovers, canon typical violence and weaponry, mean!mando/bitchy!reader, angst, suspense, language, x fem!reader. other necessary tags will be added as needed

art disclaimer: all art depicting reader and the universe of “nighthawks” are interpretations. bounty hunter remains a reader insert to be envisioned the way the reader desires.

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three**

chapter four**

[parker-razor]

hi friends!! my asks are always open if you wanna send in blurb requests, questions or whatever your heart desires!!

[parker-razor]

a little sneak peak of the new chapter of show me...

“Mand-do, I n-need to c-c-cum…”

“I thought you didn’t want to anymore, little girl. Can’t make up your mind? Look at yourself in the mirror.”

You struggled to open your eyes, but once you did you were shocked.

Your hair stood up all over the place, frizzy and wild. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your eyes puffy and face swollen in embarrassment and arousal. Your legs were trembling, your arms were trembling, your chin was trembling. You were a fucking wreck.

“You’re so ungrateful, baby. Now, you don’t get to cum. Not until I say.” You could feel yourself start to sob when Mando dipped his tongue back in your hole.

series masterlist

[parker-razor]

I just wanna say.... I LOVE the way you write Din and his dialogue. Your writing is so delicious and sultry and delicate and lovely. I hope you have a long and fruitful fic writing career, because I love reading your stuff!

this is so so so sweet :’))))) thank you my dear!!!!

[parker-razor]

about 500 words into the next chapter of show me….. and good god it’s fucking filthy…..

[parker-razor]

through the walls

*repost*

(gif credit to the owner)

18+ only please!!

f!reader x poe dameron (no y/n)

summary: when you and poe crash your ship in the woods of takodana, you accidentally find yourselves face to face with a plant that causes more tension than you had hoped for…

word count: 3.8k

warnings: dub-con (sex pollen), oh so much smut (warnings under the cut), some fluff, mentions of blood and injuries

a/n: poe really causes a flood in my basement on a daily basis so this is dedicated to that cocky bastard….. call me sometime

extended warnings: slight voyeurism, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, edging, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms

*****

Alarms in your tandem X-wing were blaring as you were quickly losing altitude. Your breathing was rapid, trying to figure out some way to keep your ship from crashing.

“I-I think I lost control of our trajectory pattern- are you listening to me?! We’ve been hit, we’re entering the atmosphere too fast-“ Poe’s words were cut short by a loud rattling coming from the back of the ship, and you could only guess it was a blaster cannon detaching from one of the wings.

“Poe, we’re losing altitude, we need to c-crash in the trees or else we’re done for!” You shouted over the wind blowing through the broken glass in the windshield. You watch as Poe pull the ship up as fast as he could, aiming for the thick cluster of forest. You both braced yourself to crash as your X-wing made contact with the thicket of trees. In a moment of fear, you grabbed Poe’s shoulder in front of you and shut your eyes, and Poe’s hand reached back to hold into your hand in a white-knuckle grip.

You both jostled in your seat when the ship hit the trees, and as if your psyche just got way too overwhelmed, you blacked out.

*****

“You gotta wake up, c’mon can you hear me?” Your vision was blurry as you finally opened your eyes.

You were suddenly very aware of what was happening before blackness overtook you. Bracing for impact, Poe’s hand gripping yours. You shot up, realizing it was a mistake because you started to feel dizzy.

“Woah, easy tiger. Take it easy, okay? I think you’re okay, just some bruises, nothing severe,” Poe said calmly, trying to get you to lie back on the ground.

“Where… where are we?”

“Takodana… Those TIE fighters came out of nowhere.” You looked around you and took in the towering trees above you, and the noises of strange birds in their branches. The X-wing was a few feet away, still smoking, and behind it was a few trees fallen down from the impact the ship had made.

“Are you hurt?” You sat up suddenly yet again, needing to make sure your partner was alright.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” Poe replied with a smirk. “If it weren’t for those trees, we’d be dead.”

“Okay good,” you sighed with relief. “How far do you think it is to the town?”

“Not far, just a few hour’s walk. Think you can stand for me?”

“Yes, Poe, I’m not an invalid,” you snap back.

“Ah, there’s my girl, back to her old self.” Poe held your hands as he lifted you to your feet.

“Do we have any communication with base?”

“No, the ship is kaput and so are the comm links. We just gotta get to town and wait for them to realize where we are.” You looked up at Poe, wanting to wipe some of the dirt from this tan cheek. You had always harbored a small crush for your co-pilot; he was known as the golden boy around base and was revered by the other women who swore up and down that there was no better than Poe, in more ways than one. Sure, he was a good pilot – a great pilot – but from the stories you overheard in the locker rooms… Poe knew just what he was doing when it came to “taking care” of the opposite gender.

You didn’t let that get to you, it couldn’t. Not when you spent so much time with him. With flight training, and patrol duties… if you spent too much time thinking about him like that, your feelings would go from a little schoolgirl crush to something way too major to squash.

But you had to admit, even after just being in a ship crash, with sweat and dirt running down his face… he was fucking hot. And his cockiness made him even more hot somehow. But you liked to think that you were the only person in Poe’s life that tried to humble him and didn’t kiss the ground he walked on.

Which would make it even more humiliating if he ever found out that you would think about him when you alone in your bunk at night.

“You ready? We should start walking before it gets dark out.” His words snapped you out of your reverie, mentally chastising yourself for swooning over him right in front of him. You didn’t respond, only sighed and brushed the dirt off your pants.

“Lead the way, Dameron.”

*****

The forest was pretty. You didn’t have a lot of time to appreciate nature when you lived your life on base, floating through space among the stars. Granted, there were a lot of little critters that scampered by you that you found odd, obviously native to Takodana. You tried to avoid touching as much flora and fauna as you could, not knowing what was safe and what wasn’t.

Poe, however, seemed to be an expert.

Every new tree, every new weed, every new little bug you passed he could recall its name and some other fun fact. He wasn’t just a pretty face; Poe was smart as hell.

At around the two-hour mark, you were starting to get tired of listening to him, though. Your head was starting to hurt from dehydration, your feet were killing, and the bruising up your legs from the crash was making it hard to walk normally.

You tried drowning him out by just keeping your eyes on the ground, not looking at what was in front of you. Watching every step you took let you zone out for a while as your body went into autopilot. Which is why when Poe suddenly stopped in front of you to admire a new species of tree, you didn’t notice until it was too late.

You collided with his back, catching him off guard as both of you fell to the ground. You both met the earth with an “oof.”

“Will you watch where you’re goin-“ Poe was cut off by a gust of air coming from a weird blob on the ground that wafted into both of your faces. It smelled like pine and cologne, and you just kept wanting to smell it.

“Oh, Maker. Oh no, oh shit. Get up, stand up. Fucking hell…” Poe sounded panicked, which made you panicked.

“What, Poe what is that, what the hell just breathed on us?”

“It’s a species native to Takodana…” His words were stuttered as he looked anywhere but you. “They’re like mushrooms, but with pores that spew this gas on contact… it’s an aphrodisiac…”

“Wait, what? You’re telling me we just took a huge whiff of air that makes you horny??”

“It’s meant for animals that live in the woods, to keep wildlife populations at high levels to maintain the ecosystem. I have no idea if it works on humans or not,” Poe stuttered, obviously just as panicked as you.

“Well… I feel fine. I feel… normal. Do you feel normal?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. We’re fine. We should be fine. Let’s just keep walking…” Poe turned away from you and kept walking in the same direction, careful not to step on the weird sex mushroom on the ground.

You walked for another half hour when you started to feel hot. You blamed it on the humidity of the forest and the fast pace you were walking at. But this was different. You felt a simmering heat between your thighs and sweat started to swim down your face at a more intense rate.

You’re fine, you thought. You aren’t an animal that lives in the forest. You should be fine.

But then you noticed Poe, or a lack of Poe. He had gone totally silent the past few minutes. No more nature facts, just… nothing. And then you noticed more things about Poe.

He had unzipped his jumpsuit and tied the arms around his waist so his upper half was just covered in a thin, white undershirt. It seemed as though Poe was sweating profusely, too, because you could almost see right through his t-shirt. You could see his muscled back, tan skin for miles that rippled with every step. And his neck… And his hair… stars you wanted to run your hands through his hair while he shoved his face between your-

Woah woah woah. Where did that come from?

This couldn’t be good.

“Are we… are we almost there?” You asked, sounding out of breath but not necessarily because of the long walk. Just as you spoke, the woods parted, and the town was not even ten minutes away.

Poe still said nothing. Instead, you noticed his hands were clenched tightly into fists and his brows were furrowed in frustration, like the sound of your voice was causing him pain.

You thanked the Maker that soon you could shut yourself into your room at some shabby inn and take care of whatever was happening between your legs. You were starting to come to terms with the idea that that sex pollen wasn’t just for the creatures in the woods.

Eventually, you found yourself at an inn, the closest one you could find. Poe seemed just as desperate to find solitude as you.

“We need two rooms, please. As soon as you can,” Poe said to the woman at the desk, his hands noticeably shaking as they rested on the tabletop.

“Certainly, sir. I have two rooms available for you both.” The woman handed you your keys, and as soon as Poe slammed some credits down you were both speed walking down the hallway to your respective doors.

Before you could get into your room and slam the door, Poe grabbed your arm. Fuck, you could have melted on the spot as a moan threatened to escape at the sudden contact.

“Let me know if you… need anything,” Poe said, his voice shaky. You weren’t sure if there was a hidden meaning behind his words. He was obviously feeling the effects same as you but was just as stubborn not to admit it. Was he offering to come help nurse the growing ache between your legs? Maker, you hoped so. But instead of pulling him into your room and going to town, you whimpered and ran into your room, closing the door behind you.

Okay, first things first, you need to shower. As desperate as you were to just lay down and relieve the tension, you were still sane enough to not crawl onto the clean, white sheets while you were still covered in sweat and dirt.

You walked into the small refresher, stripping down and throwing your jumpsuit and underwear in the corner. You turned on the water, not making it too hot since you were burning up already. You walked into the shower, stepping under the water and let it pour over your hair and down your sore limbs.

As the dirt swirled down the drain, you heard a shower turn on behind the wall in front of you. Fuck, Poe must be showering in his room, too. And you could not stop yourself from thinking about him in that god damn refresher.

Hair wet and pulled back, his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth of the running water. Maker, the way his muscles would ripple with drops of water pouring over them.

Before you realized what was happening, you lifted your left leg on the ledge and let your hand drift down between your legs. Your pointer and middle finger found your clit quickly, rubbing little circles around it. You had to bite your bottom lip to keep from being too loud, but Maker it felt so fucking good.

Compared to how it normally felt late at night in your bunk, just a few movements on your bud made you feel absolutely insane with need. You thought your drive for touch was bad before; this was insatiable.

What pulled you out of your pleasure was a sound from behind the wall. You paused for a moment, listening for another to clue you in on what it was.

“Oh Maker, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight.” You heard Poe’s voice muffled behind the wall, making you red in the face and even more in need. You almost felt bad for listening to him… until you heard him moan out your name.

You let out a moan yourself, bringing your hand back down to your clit and started rubbing even harder. You wish he was in here with you, his fingers touching you instead. It was like your moans were getting each other off even more; you were almost positive that he could hear you, too. But all shame had left your body. All you could think about was having Poe rail into you and whisper into your ear how good you felt.

You were starting to clench around nothing, tensing up your stomach and leg muscles ready to finally let go. It was building and building, your moans getting louder. And just when you were about to let go, to finally feel total and utter bliss… nothing?

It’s like you could get right to the edge of orgasm but never actually reach it. So, you tried to get there again. And just like last time… nothing.

You wanted to cry.

Every time you got yourself to the edge and lost it, it was like your neediness grew worse and worse. And based on the frustrated grunts coming from the opposite side of the wall, Poe was having the same trouble.

You realized your skin was getting pruny. You must have been in the shower now for over thirty minutes. Letting out a groan, you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around yourself.

You needed something, anything. The burn between your legs made you squeeze your legs together, rolling around on the bed savoring the friction you got just from crossing your knees. You tried humping your pillow, fingering your cunt… it all felt good, but you just couldn’t get there.

And the entire time, you could hear Poe on the other side of the wall, moaning out profanities and begging for some semblance of relief. You figured his sounds would help get you there. You had fantasized about how he’d sound while touching himself for months now. And Maker, he sounded so fucking hot. But no matter the motivation, any orgasm you dreamt of having wasn’t in a hundred-mile radius.

In the middle of practically humping your hand, you heard a tentative knock at your door. Your hand shot out from your pussy, standing up to wrap a robe laying on the bed around you.

You opened the door to Poe, his eyes practically black with lust. He didn’t have a shirt on, and only his boxers covered his bottom half. His hand draped over his crotch, obviously covering… himself. Maker, the way he looked up and down at you, you wanted to grab him.

“Poe, I… Something’s wrong with me. That weird gas in the woods-“

“I know, I can’t…” Poe trailed off with a sigh. You gestured for him to come in, letting your gaze fall to his chest and stomach. You couldn’t help but whimper in the spot where you stood.

“I don’t think you can calm the effects of the pollen… on your own.” Poe’s gaze shifted from you to the floor over and over.

“I… was coming to that conclusion myself.” Your eyes finally met his, stepping a bit closer to Poe. “I feel like I’m fucking dying, every time I can’t make myself cum it’s like one step closer to being incinerated.”

“I just… can I please touch you? Just a little, I just need something-“

“Fuck, Poe, please-“ His lips were on you in a second, and your arms were grabbing at each other like if you let go, you’d die. To feel human contact was good, but to feel Poe grasp and pull at you like his life depended on it made you want to sink to the floor.

He grabbed you by the waist and threw you on the bed, tearing your robe from your body. In any normal sexual situation, you’d probably try to cover up a little, but you had absolutely no shame whatsoever.

“I need to taste you, I’ve been fucking dreaming of it,” Poe rasped, and before you could even whimper, you felt the scalding heat of his mouth envelope your clit and suck.

Oh, this was better. This was better than your fingers, the pillow, anything. He made out with your cunt and slurped at your juices like he couldn’t get enough. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a yell that sounded like you were being stabbed.

Your hands flew down to his curls, keeping his mouth right where you needed him. The way he would go from little kitten licks to full on sucking made your eyes cross.

“I-I’ve wanted you f-for so fucking l-long,” you moaned. It was as if the pollen had an added truth serum to it, because you couldn’t control anything coming out of your mouth. “Your f-fucking tongue, Poe, please don’t s-stop…”

Poe moaned into you and held a bruising grip on your thighs. One of his hands moved to hold onto your left breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple. Yeah, now you get why all the girls on base spoke so highly of him.

Everything was building so fast, and you were preparing yourself for not being able to cum yet again. Tears prickled the inner corners of your eyes, but the pleasure didn’t stop. It grew and grew in your lower belly, and you felt your hips lock into place for something absolutely mindblowing.

“I… I-I’m gonna… g-gonna-“ Poe pulled your clit between his teeth and you fucking screamed as white clouded your vision and buzzing filled your ears. You were flailing on the bed with Poe’s head locked between your thighs as he held his position and continued to lick at you.

It went on for fucking ever.

You came down from your high, and as Poe crawled up your body you could feel how rock hard he was under his boxers. Even though you had finally cum, after hours of trying, you could feel the heat build again all over. The pollen wouldn’t be satisfied until you really did the deed.

“Fuck, my pretty baby came so hard, didn’t she? Did that feel good? Huh? Did I make my sweet baby cum so hard?” Poe’s words made you crave him even more as he kissed and nipped up and down your neck. “You looked so goddamn pretty, baby, wanna watch you cum over and over.”

“Poe I-I need you, please I need more…”

“Aw, does my pretty girl need more? So fucking greedy, but I’ll give you anything you want. Tell me what you want, sweet girl, use your words.”

Maker.

“Your c-cock, Poe, need you please,” you cried out, tears slipping down your face from how intense your need was.

“You want me to fucking ruin you, don’t ya?” Poe was tearing his boxers off, and while he was taunting you you could tell he was just as needy as you. “You need me to fuck you, huh? My baby wants my cock so bad, doesn’t she?”

You were crying for it, and it made Poe fucking chuckle.

“Relax, pretty girl, gonna give it to you.” Any smirk that was present on Poe’s face vanished when he finally slid into you. You gasped, not fully expecting him to stretch you like he was.

He was thick. Sure, he was long too, but Maker did he stretch you. Your eyes rolled back at how intense it was, and the second you felt the head of his cock nudge against your g-spot, you were tensing up and coming yet again.

“Oh, Maker, baby, are you coming? O-Oh fuck you just got so f-fucking tight…” Poe started to thrust slowly as you came down, shocked at how sensitive you must’ve been just to cum from one thrust. You were moaning loud, not in any control of the noises you made. He just felt so fucking good.

And then, you started talking.

“S-Sorry I’ve always given you- fuck- a hard t-time,” you moaned, grabbing onto Poe everywhere you could as his thrusts sped up even more. “A-Always liked you… w-would touch myself t-to you…”

“Yeah? You would play with yourself and think about me? F-fuck me, baby, you’re tighter than I imagined…” You were pulled out of bliss for a moment at his words.

“You would think about m-me too?” Your words were cut off with a loud moan when Poe tugged at your legs and hooked them over his shoulders, letting him fuck you even deeper.

“I-I’ve wanted you since our first day of training – Maker - thought I’d never have a chance with you… but now you’re telling me you want me, I’m never fucking letting go.” As Poe finished speaking, he started plowing into you, railing into your cunt with such an unearthly force.

“F-Feels so f-fucking gooood, P-Poe don’t stop baby.” Everything was flaring up again, so intense that it almost scared you.

“Come on pretty girl, cum around my cock. Wanna feel you drench me, that’s it, I can feel it coming. Let go for me, little baby…” You think you black out for a moment when the base of Poe’s cock rubs against your clit.

Maker, it’s insane. Everything just disappears and you can’t think about anything but Poe fucking into you, despite how tight you were as you clenched around him.

Poe, Poe, Poe, Poe, Poe. That’s all you could say… you think. It felt like reality was pulled from under you and you were floating into dead space. Somewhere in your orgasm, Poe moaned out your name, too, fucking his cum into you until he finally softened.

When you finally came back to the real world, Poe was stroking your hair and placing soft kisses up your neck. His hands were lightly rubbing up and down your arms trying to soothe you from the most insane orgasm known to humankind.

“…Poe?” you ask, voice raspy and quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Even without the pollen… I’m glad I was able to finally-“ Poe cut you off with a kiss yet again, but this one was so soft and tender it made you sink into the bed.

“Poe, really, that wasn’t the pollen talking… I really do like you. And not just because of the mindblowing sex we just had, although it doesn’t hurt,” you laughed nervously.

“I meant what I said, baby. I wanted to be with you since the first day you rolled your eyes at me in training.” Poe’s smile was brighter than the sun, and you felt like your heart could explode.

“What’s Leia gonna say about this?”

“Nothing good.”

*****

taglist: @niiight-dreamerrrr @ajeff855

@ohhersheybars @sleep-tight1 @jefferson-in-the-tardis @halerune @liltangerineart @thewintersoldierswife @chibi @greyteacup @justanotherblonde23 @hotsauceonabiscuit @pcrushinnerd @altarsw @nerd-without-a-cause @stardust-kenobi @tailormotelkamzoil @spideysimpossiblegirl

[parker-razor]

show me, feel me, teach me - ch. 6

previous // next

female!reader x mando

1.9k words, 18+ only!!

series summary: during a drinking game, you let slip that you don't know much about sex. mando offers to teach you, and you happily accept.

warnings: smuuuut (extended under the cut), some fluff

a/n: soooo tumblr apparently fixed the issue with my posts not showing up under its tags, so i'm reposting the latest chapter of show me and my one shot with poe dameron, both of which got really low numbers. thank you guys for supporting me!!

extended warnings: use of vibrator, manhandling, squirting, slight dumbification, overstimulation, slight dry humping

*****

A loud beeping filled the pitch-black room, waking both you and Mando up from a deep sleep. Mando shot up from the bed, ripping himself out from under your hold.

“Tracking beacon… bounty nearby… have to go…” Mando grumbled, his voice raspy with sleep. You could hear him stumbling around in the dark, hurriedly putting on his clothes and beskar. You wanted nothing more than for him to climb back into bed with you and hold you.

“Can’t it wait till morning?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

“No, not when he’s so close. The sooner I go, the sooner I get back.”

“What if… I can suck you off? Would that make you stay?” you tease with a smile.

“Tempting. Maybe when I get back, my sweet girl.” You heard him shove his shoes onto his feet, searching around for his helmet on the floor.

“Please? Come back to bed with me,” you ask, knowing full well what his answer would be. Instead of giving a verbal response, you feel two gloved hands cradle your cheeks. A moment later, lips met yours, pouring every ounce of adoration into the kiss. You savored it, memorizing how it felt to be kissed by him.

“Sleep some more. I should be back before tonight,” he said once he pulled away. He kissed you one more time, shorter this time. He put on his helmet, and the last thing you saw was the door opening and closing, leaving you in darkness once again. You let yourself be sad for a moment, before you drifted back to sleep.

*****

You woke up again to Grogu tugging at your hair and cooing in your face. You fumbled for your communicator to check the time… it was mid-afternoon already. Mando must have left early this morning, so where was he? If the bounty was as close as the tracker indicated, Mando should have been back by now.

Unless the bounty put up a fight and Mando was in trouble.

You pushed the thought away, knowing he was most likely fine. You didn’t want to bother him by calling him on the comm link.

“Alright, kiddo,” you sighed, pulling Grogu into your arms. “Let’s get some food in you.”

You wish you could say you went through the afternoon and evening without worrying thoughts and pacing across the cockpit, but your worry grew the more that the sun sank in the sky.

What you didn’t know what that Mando had caught his bounty hours earlier and walked in the complete opposite direction of the ship back towards the city. There was one part of the city that he didn’t expose you and Grogu to – the Red District. He knew you were still innocent in many ways and that thought made him half-hard in his pants. He knew that the pleasure he had given you the past few months was more than you’d experience your life thus far, but he wanted to expand your world even further. He took a turn away from the center of the city, towards the Red District. Once he made it, he took a deep breath, and stepped into a shop.

*****

You jolted awake, realizing you had fallen asleep in the captain’s chair of the cockpit, to the sound of the door of the ship lowering. Grogu was fast asleep in his pram, which meant only two things: there was an intruder, or Mando was back. You grabbed a blaster just in case, never wanting to be too careful in this line of work.

You slowly made your way down the ladder, creeping your way towards the hull of the ship. You heard the clattering of armor around the corner, which caused you to jump out with your weapon raised at the assailant. It was Mando, of course, dragging the lifeless bounty up the open ramp. You lowered the blaster with a sigh of relief, thanking the Maker you weren’t in danger.

“Where were you, you were gone way longer than you said!” You exclaimed with anger in your tone.

“I needed to… grab something,” Mando hesitated, obviously not telling you the whole truth.

“Why didn’t you call me on the comm?”

“I figured it’d be easier to show you than to tell you…” Mando passes by you and walks to the carbon freezing chamber, loading his latest kill into it and sealing its doors.

“I don’t understand-“ Mando cuts you off by grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his chest roughly.

“Go to my room. Now… please,” Mando asserted, making your cheeks grow hot as you stared up into his visor. You nodded timidly, and when Mando let go of you, you hurried back to his chambers. Your first thought was to be worried, but the way he grabbed you and squeezed your hips made you think this was about something a bit more savory.

You sat on the bed, and you waited. Part of you thought Mando was taking so long on purpose, to make you squirm in your seat and let the anticipation rise. You saw yourself in the long mirror propped up in the corner; you looked weak, nervous, shy. Was this what Mando liked so much? The fact that he could crush you in his fist if he really wanted, pick you up like a ragdoll and do what he pleased.

Not only that, but you wanted him to. You liked feeling small and helpless around him. You liked when he would push you down on the bed when you got too needy, or when he gripped your sides a little too harshly. He was just so… big.

Your thoughts were interrupted with the door squeaking open, Mando’s figure standing in the doorway and just staring at you, admiring you.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I just got embarrassed at the idea of… telling you over the comm,” Mando hesitated with his words. “But… I got you something I think you might like.”

He pulled a bag that was tied to his belt off and handed it to you. You took it gingerly in your hands, not knowing if it was fragile. You pulled a small box out of the bag, looking up at Mando before lifting its lid.

It was purple, smooth and long and slender with two buttons at the bottom. It was shaped like a long bullet, and you couldn’t help but be confused as to what it was, and why Mando was gifting it to you.

“What… is it, Mando?”

“It’s a toy,” Mando responded.

“Like a kid’s toy? For Grogu?”

“No, this is… for us only. Do you want me to show you?” You nodded your head, still confused and a little nervous.

“Good. Take off your clothes.” Oh. It was that kind of toy. You didn’t know they made toys for those kind of… activities.

“Yeah, well, this is one of the tamer ones out there.” Oh shit, you said that out loud. Your brain and your body seemed to be malfunctioning at the prospect of Mando using something like this on you. “I won’t ask again, sweet girl. Take your clothes off for me.”

You moved swiftly, excitement starting to grow as much as the wetness between your legs. Stripping out of your shirt and pants, you were left only in your underwear. You stood there silently, waiting for Mando to tell you what to do next.

Instead of saying anything, Mando grabbed a towel out of the refresher and laid it on the ground in front of the mirror. He started taking off his armor, leaving him in his pants, undershirt, and his helmet. After staring at you for a few moments, no doubt looking you up and down under his visor. He sat down on the ground with an “oof,” and gestured for you to come and sit between his legs in front of the mirror.

You did so with your eyes glued to him, his legs spread with his hands splayed on both his thighs. You could see a bulge forming in his pants, or maybe he was still soft, and he was just that big.

Your back met his chest as you looked into his helmet in the reflection of the mirror. Mando reached back on the bed to grab the toy and started to let it lightly graze your cheek. He let it trail down your chest oh so gently, over the peaks and folds of your stomach. Your heart rate picked up as the anticipation continued to build.

“What exactly does it d-do, Mando?” You finally built the courage to ask.

“You’ll see, baby. It’s to help you when I’m not here.”

“L-Like the other night? On the comm link?” You blushed at the memory, when the both of you touched yourselves just to each other’s voices.

“Yeah, exactly, sweetheart. It’ll make it feel even better, you’ll see. You trust me, right?” You nodded quickly, so sure of your trust in Mando. At your gesture, Mando clicked one of the buttons on the toy, and it came to life right on the waistband of your underwear.

“O-Oh, Maker…”

“Yeah, pretty girl, it’s gonna feel so good. Watch what I do, okay? That’s my good girl.” Mando slowly dragged the vibrating toy down to your covered mound, and already you could feel the heat growing in your gut.

“When I’m away,” Mando continued to drag the toy over your clothed clit, “you do just as I do, okay sweet girl?” You nodded, arching your back into Mando’s chest just begging him to keep going. It obviously didn’t feel as intense as Mando’s fingers or tongue, but Maker, the vibrations rattled you to your core.

When he started to really apply pressure on your clit, that’s when the noises started. It felt fine at first, but fuck, now it was getting truly intense.

“M-Mando, please… More…”

“Not until you start to watch what I’m doing, baby. What, it feels so good you can’t even pay attention?” With that, Mando grabs your chin roughly and forces your gaze at the mirror.

You saw Mando’s tight grip on the toy, which hovered right above a visible wet spot forming on your underwear. Your cheeks were deeply flushed, your hands grasping at Mando’s arms.

“That’s it, look how pretty you are, going all dumb for me. You want more, sweet girl? I’ll give you more.” Mando threw the toy onto the towel beneath you, and before you could whine from the lack of stimulation, Mando ripped your underwear at the crotch. All the sudden, Mando pressed the second button on the toy, turning the vibrations up even higher, and shoved it right against the head of your clit.

You screamed as Mando gripped you around the waist to hold you still. You heard him moan under his helmet and felt his hips start to grind against your back.

“I- Uh- Mand- Gonna c-“

“Aw, no words? Why don’t you just let go, baby? Look how gorgeous you look, falling apart for me. That’s it, come for me sweet thing.” With that, he plunged two of his thick fingers into your cunt, shoving them right against that spot that made you feel so fucking good. Having something to squeeze around as the vibrations continued on your pulsing clit sent you headfirst over the edge.

And oh, Maker, it was out of this galaxy. You felt your eyes roll back into your head and your entire body shake as everything turned white. You were too high in the clouds to notice cum squirting out of you, or Mando rocking his hips so hard into your back that he came in his pants with a loud moan.

As you came down, you noticed that Mando didn’t pull the toy away. Instead, despite your legs shaking out of overstimulation, he turned the toy up.

“Do it again. Come for me again.”

You didn’t think it was possible until Mando’s finger started moving faster inside of you, and the toy tilted just to the left of your clit. Then everything tightened yet again, and you let out a blood curdling scream.

And still, Mando didn’t let up.

“Mand-do, please, n-no AH more!”

“Again.”

*****

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[parker-razor]

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader 

Genres: Smut, action, fluff, angst.

Rating: 18+ nsfw will be marked with **

What is a former combat medic to do when an injured Mandalorian stumbles upon her clinic one night on Klatooine? Updated sporadically - I try to keep it once a fortnight but that is contentious at best. Arcs are listed chronologically and begin pre-Season 1 and will extend beyond the finale of Season 2.

| Main Masterlist |

.

Prequel Arc - pre-season 1 of The Mandalorian. You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

The Interlude - Season 1 episode 8. The Mandalorian sends his most precious cargo to you.

| Part 1 |

Exploration Arc - Canon divergent. Before the beginning of Season 2. It’s mighty hard to distract yourself from your mysterious and alluring shipmate, so why bother? 

| Part 1* | Part 2* | Part 3* | Part 4* | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7* | Part 8 | Part 9 |

New Republic Arc - Between Season 2 Episode 1 and Episode 2. Mando’s recklessness this time was a step too far.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pamarthe Arc - Immediately after New Republic Arc. The lead you pick up brings you, Mando and the Child to a familiar planet. 

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

to be continued…

Stitches Verse Extras:

| Din Djarin NSFW Alphabet |

| Stitches Art |

| Headcanons |