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sp00kymulderr · 2 years ago

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Pull Me Under

Pairing: Comandante Veracruz x afab reader

Warnings: 18+; PWP, Oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of ass play (f receiving), p in v sex, brief light choking, some gendered language referring to reader (sweet thing, princess)

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: His ambition felt like danger, in a way, and danger felt like lust - so it was natural you had been drawn to his wicked smile and knowing gaze.

A/N: Repost of another old one.

“Commander”

You know the title never sounded better to him than when it comes out of your mouth – this time in a breathy moan, coaxed skilfully from your soft lips by his own, urged on by the sharp tug on your hair as he pulls you back to look in to your eyes. There is always a fire to him that overwhelms you, something in his eyes that speaks to an unpredictability inside of him – a soul on the brink of either greatness or destruction. With the recent promotion you know that he could achieve the greatness you see in him – if only his ruthless ambition doesn’t get in the way.

You had met on base years ago, your administration job with the military taking you there regularly, and you had keenly watched him rise through the ranks with a fierce determination. A desperation, it sometimes seemed. But his ambition felt like danger, in a way, and danger felt like lust so it was natural you had been drawn to his wicked smile and knowing gaze. From the first kiss you were like an addict, he was your truest vice and you always needed more.

As you let him twist and mould you to his will now, following his movements like second nature, you notice his lips still carry a faint the taste of the coffee he had been drinking when you arrived home to find him in your kitchen a while ago. Not unusual, him showing up on a whim after too much time apart, but still taking you by surprise. He made no show of it though, no shame in his reason for being there, claiming what he wanted the moment you stepped through the threshold – every eager touch full of a hunger that quickly reignited your never ending desire for him.

“Tell me you missed me, sweet thing?” he asks you now, pulling away from where you’re perched on the kitchen counter. He leans back against the opposite wall and his eyes wander over you; taking in your half-clothed body, the soft pout of your lips as you reach for him.

“More than words” you breath out, quiet and true. Of course he knows it, you’re wrapped around his finger – just how he likes it. It’s easy to tell how much it thrills him, ignites a feeling of power he always craves, the fact that you are simply his. And while it’s unspoken, you know he reciprocates in his devotion to you. There is no one else, for either of you, there doesn’t need to be. He tells you he was he was like a man starved until he found you, and you feel it in his greedy touch every time.

You make a show of reaching for him again with outstretched arms and open legs, eager to continue, but he ignores your silent demands for more. He rests against the wall, his hands settled in the pockets of his pants and his unfaltering gaze still on you, the hint of a smirk on his lips as he watches you grasp for his attention. He likes to play these games with you – make you tell him how much you want it, show him. Oh, he wants to see you work for it. It stirs something deep in him.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you let him win like always – reeling you in with his dark eyes and a smug, knowing smile. When you approach and press against his body he lets a hand fall lazily to your waist, fingers dragging on a patch of exposed skin there and making you shiver in anticipation and need. More, more, you need more from him than the light press against your flesh but he won’t give it. And yet he shudders when you press your lips to his neck, teeth scraping against him pulling the most delectable, quiet moan from him – the kind that makes you ache. You’re glad to know his weaknesses too, it makes the game that much more fun. He has that power over you, yes, but you know which buttons to press – where to kiss, what to say, how to wear down that hard exterior until he’s a gasping, pleading mess beneath your fingers.

“Are you mine, princess?” he asks, curious even though he knows. He knows the answer and how easily it will roll off your tongue, knows because you tell him every time. But he aches to hear it, needs it.

You kneel before him, knees pressed upon the cool linoleum flooring, and work his belt and pants open quickly. You take a moment to run your hand over the bulge in his pants, squeezing him gently as you look up at him with wide-eyed innocence.

You remember how he had once told you your eyes would make every star in the sky jealous, the way they sparkle and reflect your deepest passions.

“I’m yours, Commander” you finally respond sweetly, as he brings a hand to caress your face.

You feel him pulse at your words, and it makes you more aware of the slick between your own legs. How you want him. Quickly you help him shed the clothes restricting the prize underneath. With his free hand he takes out his cock, swollen head already beading with his arousal, stroking it a few times as he still cups your cheek in his other.

“Show me” he tells you, voice cracking as you eagerly open your mouth to him and lick a stripe from base to tip in one long motion before taking the tip of him in to your mouth and stroking your hand along the length.

It is not like it has been with other men; lewd and rushed and not intimate enough. The way he shares himself with you in this moment; as you take more of him in your mouth and he stutters out how good you are, so very good for him, how beautiful you look with your lips wrapped around him, as he moans out how you make him feel with his head pushed back against the wall and a hand lightly holding the back of your head, a subtle request to take him deeper. When you do, he gasps and it makes you clench as the heat between your legs sears.

You had never expected him to be such a talker, so keen to spill his inner thoughts as you worked him, but then there was so much about him that was unexpected when this began – how soft and slow he could be with you when you needed it, how much he wanted to take his time and make sure your were fully sated, only satisfied when you were spent and struck dumb by his ministrations. You had always assumed he’d be like the others, only caring about his satisfaction, but the truth about him is that he is ambitious and determined in every area of his life and that includes a dedication to making you come so hard that you feel him for days after.

“Exquisite” he groans out when you take him all the way and gag a little before pulling back to take a breath. The way he looks down at you when you repeat the action is so thick with lust you could drown in it. Pulling off of him again he brings you back up to him, running a thumb along your plush lips that are wet with your saliva and then kissing you so fiercely you have to find purchase on his strong shoulders.

It doesn’t take long before your undressing each other of your remaining clothes between feverish kisses, moving blindly through the house. You don’t want to let go of him for more than a moment, so wrapped up in your burning desire and his demanding hands – his rough touch on your now bare skin causing a chain reaction right down to your core. You make it to the bed but you can’t recall your steps, truthfully it’s further than you anticipated since you were ready to fuck him on the kitchen floor, but you’re happy for the soft comfort of the bed when he sits back on it with his back against the headboard.

“Here, sit” he widens his legs and pats the space between them, pulling you so your back is against his chest when you come to him. His heart is beating fast and heavy, his hard cock is pressed between you and him so you rub against it just to hear him groan in your ear.

“How I love this body, so soft and sweet. Ready for me” he whispers in your ear, while he gropes at your breasts and kneads the pliant flesh.

You drop your head back against his shoulder and his lips immediately make contact with the open space of your neck, soft kisses and tender nips at the skin make you moan as one hand moves from your chest to your stomach. The contact leaves you reeling, head spinning, like you’ve never been touched before. He has you so completely, every bit of you burning for him. The trail of his fingers down makes your skin prickle, dipping between your wet folds and over your clit making you jolt.

He speaks again against your ear; a chuckle over just how wet you are, how ready for him you are demonstrated with the ease of two fingers entering you, only a slight sting as he does. They curl inside you and search for that spot, and he knows he’s hit it when you arch your back and curse loudly at the sensation it causes within you.

“Right there? Tell me” he commands, crooking his fingers there again, and you know he’s got that smug smile on his face again even with your eyes pressed shut.

“There. There. It feels...fuck- it feels- oh god” you pant out an incoherent reply that turns in to a babble when his thumb finds out your clit and you almost combust on the spot.

He works you so well, gives you so much, lips still roaming the areas of your neck, your shoulders, occasionally nipping at your earlobe. His thumb circles the small nub while his fingers rub that spot inside you, making you cry out as he does it again and again until your toes curl, pulling you like a taut string ready to snap.

“There is no other sight in the world as wonderful as this” he mutters, the rumble of his voice reverberating through you, but it’s tender too. He means it.

You moan out his name and with one more swipe over your clit, you’re gone. The string snaps, the build up of tension bursting open the gates to your orgasm. He holds you against him possessively as you arch, hips bucking from the continued stimulation of him working his fingers inside of you. When you start to come down from it though, he’s asking for another. Demanding it, pressing his thumb down again and making you cry out as a second climax quickly rips through you and makes you convulse as you come around his fingers a second time.

“Beautiful” he chuckles as you whimper, withdrawing and biting down against your neck as he does.

This is what he does, takes everything from you. Shatters you and takes pieces of you for himself. And still you need more, you feel his throbbing cock between you and you want to feel every inch of him.

You want to see him ache with pleasure and know no one can make him feel it like you can.

You turn away and start to move over him, straddling him where he sits on the bed. His large, warm hands come to rest on your hips and the way he looks at you as you reach for his aching cock is like he’s telling you. Take everything you want from me, have all of me.

He groans and grunts as you sink down on to him, letting him fill you all the way slowly, taking your time before rising again. You repeat the motion, setting the pace as you ride him, watching his eyes close in pleasure – head tipping back against the headboard and it’s a sight to behold. He’s wrecked by you, moaning out as you quicken your pace and squeeze down on him every time his cock hits that place inside of you. Fingertips dig in to your hips as you move, not trying to take control, just trying to anchor himself to you as the feel of your cunt and your lips on his neck drive him wild, ferocious because of only you.

He’s getting close, already, and you feel a swell of pride that you can still turn him so quickly to this man on the edge. His pupils so darkened, untamed as he looks at you again, praising you when you take him fully again and grind your hips. He reaches down, a finger toying with your clit. Still sensitive, you gasp, moreso when he gathers your slick and reaches to press the same finger against your asshole, just circling it but still causing you to shudder in pleasure.

He slaps at your hip with his other hand when you stop moving, but he smiles up at you knowing exactly what he’s doing to you right now, winding you tight once more. When you begin to move again he grunts his approval, watching your hand that doesn’t rest on his broad shoulder move until your own fingers circle the sensitive bundle of nerves and you let out a shaky breath.

“One more, for me” he urges you on, pressure on your hole making your legs start to shake and your toes curl. You come for the third time when he tells you, waves of white-hot satisfaction washing over you and you have to hold on to him as it does. Each time is better than the last and you sob as it rolls through you.

He takes your hand away, thrusting up in to you as his release comes close urged on by your own. You surge forward to kiss him, harsh, hungry, senses overwhelmed. You’re a mess, both of you; sweaty, panting, barely stable. Taking and taking and taking. He whispers your name, clinging to it like a prayer. A loud moan when you pull away from his lips and wrap a hand around his throat. Only you, he would never trust anyone else with him like this. It makes him shudder in delight, eyes widening as his muscles tense with his impending finish.

“Are you mine, Commander?” you repeat his question to him with your hand around his neck. And just like him, you know the answer. And just like him, you need to hear it anyway. He comes undone at your words, thrusting twice deep into you as he spills his release with a growl.

“Always, my heart” he lets out, finally, as he tries to remember how to breath. “Always”.

He watches rapt as you rise up, his seed dripping from you before you’re falling on to the bed besides him. You need to clean up, but you don’t want to move, knowing this might be another quick visit and trying to draw it out for as long as possible. He scoots down, lying besides you.

“Will you stay?” you ask, hopeful, a yawn escaping you as you lie back next to him.

“Not tonight, my love. The American arrives tomorrow and I have to brief my men, but the mission will be a short one, I’m sure of it” he replies confidently. You know he’s trying to score more military aid for Colombia, but his plans remain off limits to you,

“I will come back to you as soon as it’s finished” A promise.

A promise you pray that he keeps, too drunk on sex to notice that glint of blind ambition - or is it madness? - in his eyes that might warn you that he won’t.

But you don’t see it.

#comandante veracruz x reader #veracruz x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fiction #pedrostories #*repost

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sp00kymulderr · 2 years ago

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Silent Genesis

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, PWP, voyeurism kinda, masturbation, light choking

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Another old one!

The Mandalorian is watching you.

Watching silent, leaning against the rear wall of the cockpit with his head tilted slightly as he regards your form splayed out on the pilot seat. He’s partially veiled in darkness, a stoic and unmoving figure in the shadows while you are illuminated by the soft light shining into the cabin from the repair dock the Razor Crest is currently sat in. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, caught in a place you shouldn’t be by a man who won’t hesitate to throw you off his ship for breaking the rules.

But that’s the game.

This is the thrill you’ve been chasing ever since you first met the mysterious armoured bounty hunter several weeks ago. He had taken you on board the Crest out of pity, that must’ve been it. To him you had been simply a poor lost girl, and he was the fool who needed an assistant of sorts. Perhaps he needed the company too, or something more, but he’d never admitted it to you.

Now he finds you a breathless, half-naked mess in his seat on his ship. Your breasts freed from the caging fabric around them, rising and falling with your careless breath. Your dexterous fingers dipped below the waistband of your pants, but stilled with your clit pinched between two of them under the fabric. Your gentle, too-quiet mewls of pleasure coming to a halt as he moves.

The game had started by accident, because you were too careless and liked him too much. It had very quickly become clear to you—after settling in to your role on the ship like a duck to water—that he was more than his profession, than his armour, than his creed. He wasn’t just some strong brute hunting quarry for credits. He was powerful and astute, a man of honour and of heart no matter how much he tried to bury it.

So naturally you wanted him more than anything.

You weren’t sure of his desire for you, although you had some inkling from the way he paid attention to you as you worked on the ship. Most likely he thought you didn’t notice him staring, thought his helmet made it impossible to tell, but you felt it every time. So you knew he had walked in on you as you thought of him, hands working underneath the fabric of your clothing, even before he realised what was happening.

“I- I’m sorry” he had stuttered in shock at the realisation, turning immediately but hesitating to leave.

“Stay. Please” was your immediate, unthinking response and you swear you heard his breath hitch at your request.

“Is that what you want? Me to- To watch?” he responded eventually, slowly, turning back towards you.

“Yes. If it’s what you want”

And it was.

So he had stayed, and watched. Again, and again, and again. It played out the same every time; him catching you in some immodest display, though no longer by accident, and watching rapt and unspeaking each time you brought yourself off for him. Never touching you, never asking you for more. Just watching, and never speaking of it.

“Keep going” he tells you now, bringing you back to yourself. He crosses his arms, leans back again and tilts his head nodding towards the place your fingers are splayed inside the fabric of your pants.

You gulp down dumbly, throat dry, before pulling back your hand to help you shimmy out of the pants and toss off the shirt that had been bunched up above your chest. You spread your legs wide, hoping desperately that the sight of you naked and spread for him on his seat will be driving him wild inside the mass of metal covering him. You let yourself imagine him wanting you, taking you. Think about his skin; it would be hot under you. How would he touch you? Would it be gentle, like you’re a glass ornament he’s afraid to shatter. Or would he lean in to his strength? You think about his large hand around your throat, squeezing. The image of it makes you moan and slide your hands back down your body.

It’s difficult to discern exactly what his reaction is to you. The man gives nothing away – always able to hide any slack-jawed admiration, reddened cheeks or looks of desire behind the helmet that never comes off. He’s not much of a talker either, choosing the simplest answers and instructions and rarely making real conversation with you. He has the advantage there. It makes you feel like he holds all the power, he is able to keep calm and collected where even the simplest brush of your body against his covered frame would cause you to stutter and stumble even when you were so sure of yourself.

This, now, is a rare moment when you perceive that you have at least some command. At the very least you know he’s captured; following your movements and paying attention only to you for once. The action of your hands, fingers gently grazing over your skin to return to their place between your legs while your other palms at your breasts, your touch frustratingly light as you tease your sensitive nipples.

The way the cool, dim light falls over you makes it seem like you’re bathed in ethereal moonlight, like some goddess of sin. The smallest gasp escapes your lips when you glide over your clit, and you know he can see exactly how wet you are. You keep your eyes firmly on him as you slide two digits inside yourself with ease, feeling the rush of heat as you curl them against your upper wall and desperately trying to hold on to the imagined eye contact you have with the emotionless visage before you. Odd, not to know the colour of the man’s eyes but still willingly give him this deeply intimate moment.

Pulling your fingers back, you hold them up to show him they are slick with you before bringing them to your lips. It’s obscene, opening your mouth and tasting yourself as he continues to watch in silence, statuesque. The slightest movement of his hand as you do so, balling up in to a fist, gives you more of a rush than any other person has ever provided you. So you keep going; saliva coated digits trailing between your breasts and further, down past your bellybutton, down to you slick folds to continue teasing that bundle of nerves that holds the key to your release.

So sensitive, more than you expect, you choke against the pressure of the small, concentrated circling motions. Throwing your head back until it bumps against the seatback and you’re whining, not just at how good it feels to touch yourself but how good it is to know he’s watching. Your other hand pinching the skin of your thigh hard, the tingle of pain mixed with the pleasure making you feel white-hot and on your way to the heavens.

“M- Mando” you whimper, wanting to make sure he knows it’s him you’re imagining.

But then he’s moving. You hear the slightest noise of his footsteps and open your eyes wide, stopping dead in your movements. He isn’t stopping, coming so close to you it would take nothing at all to reach out and touch the cool metal covering him.

This isn’t how the game goes.

Is this when he finally throws you off the ship?

“What…” you rasp out the beginnings of a question, unsure what to do with this unprecedented action. He’s never been this close while you’ve been this naked. Fuck, your heart is pounding and you’re frozen to the spot waiting for him to make his move, ready to be dragged out of the cockpit and left to fend for yourself.

Instead Mando drops to his knees with a muted thud onto the metal flooring, positioned between your open legs and his gloved hand hovers over your raised knee. Did you finally break him? The thought makes you shiver.

“Can I?” he asks softly.

You just nod, still wide eyed in shock, and when you feel his covered palm land gently down before moving slightly upwards you let out a breath you had no idea you had been holding. The caress is tender and slow, moving half way up the thigh then back down to where it started. You pray to the stars that this never ends, but too soon he’s moving away and leaning back slightly.

“Can you keep your eyes closed?” he enquires, something of a tremble in his voice as he pinches the fabric of the glove between the fingers on his opposite hand and pulls ever so slightly.

Another violent nod and you scrunch your eyes shut as tight as possible for him, never more eager for anything than what you think is happening now.

“Good” you hear him shuffle, something dropping to the floor.

You want to ask him what changed, why he’s offering you this unexpected gift. Want to know how this changes things. But instead you stutter in what you can only call absolute bliss when he lays his now-bare hand against your hip.

He sighs at the contact, and you nearly come undone at the sound alone.

“Keep going” he orders, but less commanding than before, with a squeeze where he’s touching you before he slowly starts to move.

You had almost forgotten about what you had been doing, slowly starting to move your fingers again at his request. Your entire body is buzzing, the places his palm roams scorching with the touch of his skin on yours. Finally. Your imagination is nothing against the real thing. There is nothing but this in your mind now, you want to stay in this moment for the rest of time. His touch will be the only memory you keep from now on.

When his fingers dance across your stomach then down to the opposite hip it’s feather-light and tender, but reaching your other thigh he lets his fingers dig in to the soft flesh making you cry out. He touches you everywhere but the place you don’t dare to even think about him touching, where you still work towards your peak. And oh you’re close, inching closer with every movement of his, every reminder that he is real and here and touching you.

His breath is heavy through the modulator, hitching as he reaches your breasts and kneads the pliant curve of flesh to his will. You groan, zoning in on that feeling but too soon he’s moving on, upwards, hand hesitantly settling around your throat.

“This is what you like?”

Of course, he knows it. Has seen you do this to yourself enough times now, always wishing it was him.

“Yes. Yes. Please” you murmur out, momentarily stilling the ministrations against your swollen clit to ensure you keep you eyes closed when he acquiesces and presses down just slightly at first – making sure it’s safe – then with a tiny bit more pressure and it’s enough.

It doesn’t take anything more than that; you choke, swipe twice more over your clit, and unravel in an instant, falling apart from an orgasm stronger than any other in your life. Your legs shake hard, muscles tensing then releasing. Calling out unintelligible expressions of sheer ecstasy, barely even aware of the fluid gushing from you in your overwhelming pleasure that goes on and on with no beginning or end in sight. Rapture, truly.

Eventually you slump back, completely undone and weightless. Your skin tingles where Mando now lightly caresses, soothing you as your heart-rate slowly comes back down.

When he pulls away, you let out a quiet sob, keeping your eyes shut waiting for him to tell you what to do. There’s some noise, but you can’t move through the thick fog in your mind to know what it is.

“Wait…stay. What does this-” again you try to ask but you’re cut off.

Soft, plush and sweet, you must be dreaming when you feel his lips press against yours. Stars, this can’t be real.

But his lips moving against yours like this, the quiet moan coming from him when you kiss him back, you would never torture yourself with such a beautiful feeling only for it to be completely imagined. Making yourself experience this knowing you could never really have it, that would be more cruel than anything else you’ve thought about with him.

This kiss, this is real. It’s the truest thing you’ve ever know.

And it changes the game forever.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #fanfic #reader insert #gideon writes again maybe #*repost

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