#RINSE N GRIND

[thedailydeedle]

[monamipencil]

— debauched | ft. stepbro! mingyu

⋆ pairings; mingyu x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut ⋆ w.c; 4.5k+ ⋆ warnings; stepbrother! mingyu, gyu wears glasses (yes this is a warning), debauchery, oral (f.receiving), mate press, raw sex, creampie, dubcon, fucking while parents are in the room, fingering, handjob, pussy slapping, jealousy, mingyu is kinda toxic, panty stealing, somnophilia, spitting kink, exhibitionism, doggy, choking, public indecency, mentions of food ⋆ a/n; im so sorry for this monstrosity. i was possessed and i refuse to do damage control 😌 (thanks to @miabebe for assisting my lunacy and giving me ideas lol.)

“fuck, you can't do this to me.”

“i can't do what to you?” you question your step-brother as he follows you into the bathroom. you don't mind it and grab your toothbrush and the paste.

“this,” he gestures towards you, more specifically the nightwear you're wearing. a cute cropped tank top with a matching pair of underwear. it's patterned with little flower prints and lined with lace.

“i'm not doing anything. not my fault you're a horn dog.”

you don't entertain him any more and brush your teeth. and neither does he, opting to grind himself on you. his hard-on presses on your ass and his hands wander all over you, skating over your skin with experienced expertise.

you give into his wishes and bend over a bit while going on with your night routine. his calloused hands slip under your top, and squeeze your tits. your nipples pebble under his touch, complying to his wishes just the same. he pinches the buds with urgency, just the way his hips grind on yours.

without much reaction, you continue brushing. but your body is growing hot with every second, and the need to have him inside you is insatiable. you wish your dad never married his mom for various reasons, and this is one of them.

“y'smell so good.” he slurs, sniffing your neck like a hound dog. his tongue traces your jugular, tasting your sweet perspiration. one of his hands travel down south, toying with hem of your panty—

knock, knock.

mingyu throws himself off you, startled by whomever was on the outside.

“honey, are you in there?” your dad's voice resonates through the door and you give him a gargled ‘yes.’ he wishes you a good night and walks off.

mingyu takes it as a cue to use the other door, connected to his bedroom and enters it. through the closed door, you hear dad checking upon him before he walks away again.

with a sigh, you rinse your mouth. and an examination of your panty reveals a soaked patch staining it. with annoyance and longing in the mix, you discard the cloth into the laundry hamper.

[ ... ]

the creak of the floorboards stir you awake and your eyes fall on a figure standing in front of you. startled, you turn on the lights and scramble to protect yourself.

only to be met with the sight of mingyu, holding your panty to his nose as he squeezes himself through his grey sweatpants. the outline of his cock is visible through the cloth. your mouth salivates and your eyes snap up to his. his dark eyes look down at you through his glasses, the depravity of his thoughts seen through his gaze.

mingyu doesn't say anything and hooks his hand underneath your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. in one swift go, your panties are gone, causing you to yelp in surprise. feeling shy with the sudden exposure, you close your legs.

he moves to your wardrobe, quickly retrieving a tie from there.

“gyu, no.” you warn but he doesn't listen. despite your protests, he ties up your hands behind your back. you sigh in defeat, “but you should stop when i tell you to.”

“i know.” his deep voice sends a frenzy in your stomach and your legs part on their own.

he licks your lips, invading them with ease. his boner prods your thighs as he makes out with you. you cant your hips, chasing some of that delicious friction. mingyu tuts in response and looks down to where you're desperately grinding against him.

he descends down, skating his lips and teeth over the skin of your neck and torso. warm breath greets your sensitive skin that's coated with arousal. he kisses the plump flesh of your thighs, ghosting his canines over them.

he slowly reaches your core and gives it a kitten lick. you whine, and buck your hips up. flame licks your skin and the lewdness of the situation makes you desperate.

when his lips meet your cunt, it's unexpected. a loud gasp tears from your lips at the force of it. he places an open mouth kiss to your heat and his hands force your legs as apart as possible.

his tongue glides over your cunt, licking up your arousal. it's nothing soft or sweet, only rough and desperate. he sucks and slurps on your whole, sending waves of pleasure through your body. he shakes his head side to side, tongue prodding at your folds.

it's impossible to contain your moans but you try your best. the cold plastic of his glasses kiss your skin whenever you try to close your legs. he eats you out like a starved dog.

your hole clenches around nothing and mingyu fills it with his tongue. he pushes his tongue in and out of you, the wet sounds of which fills the room. the sensation causes your hips to buck up into his face.

“ah!” you moan, loudly. you just don't find it in yourself to care anymore when he thumbs your clit. he pulls away, a string of spit connecting his lips to your cunt. you look down to find him staring at you over his fogged up glasses. it slid down, letting you see his eyes uncovered.

he spits on your cunt, the warm glob drips down your folds as he maintains eye contact with you. he licks up a large stripe, savoring your taste on his tongue. his tongue prods at your hole again and he fills you up. but this time, it's slower.

your gummy walls clench around his tongue, overstimulated by his thumb on your clit. your moans echo through the room again and a knot builds in your stomach. mingyu picks up his pace, returning to slurping your cunt.

the knot gets tighter and tighter, till it breaks, leaving you a babbling and trembling mess. you black out from the intensity of the orgasm and your moans cease.

mingyu licks up your climax, not wasting a drop of it. with a final kiss to your clit, he pulls away. as much as he wants to split you open on his cock now, he can't. he respects your wishes but that doesn't stop him from leaving a present for you.

he pumps his twitching cock to the sight of you. it doesn't even take a minute till he's moaning your name and spilling his seed on your thighs and stomach. he wants to finish inside you and see his load spill out of your pretty lips but he decides it for another day.

squelch.

you shift.

more wet squelches resonate from beneath the blanket you're sharing with your stepbrother. your lips shudder as you release a sharp breath.

a family movie night. it was what it was supposed to be. that is, till your parents fell asleep and mingyu sneaked his hand inside your shorts as you both sit on the couch.

two of his fingers are buried up to the hilt in your cunt, slowly drilling in and out of you. but it isn't enough and you want more, need more. your hands venture to find his cock beneath his pants. he simply spares you a glance before focusing on the movie again.

with a cautious glance to your dad and his mom, you tilt your head, pressing small kisses to his neck. his adam's apple bobs when you lick the column of his throat.

your hand finds his hardness beneath his underwear. wrapping your hand around the base, you pump him slowly. when your hand glides up to his tip, you rub your thumb over it, smearing the pre cum all over. a low hiss fills your ear and you smirk as he bucks into your hand.

you continue to kiss and bite his tan skin. his breathing turns sporadic, abdomen clenching with restraint. you're caught off-guard when he picks up his pace and curls his fingers against your sweet spot. you gasp, and clench around him.

“look at the tv.” he teethes your earlobe, hot breath ghosting over your neck. goosebumps prickle all over your skin when his canines brush against your skin.

“you both still awake?” the voice startles you and you try to remove your hand from beneath his pants but mingyu stops you. he wraps his other hand over yours, and guides in pumping his cock.

“yeah, we're gonna finish it.” he answers his mom who searches for her glasses while mingyu adjusts the blanket. when she puts it on, everything seems fine and well. she smiles at you both and wakes up your father to move him to the bedroom.

all while mingyu's jerking himself off with your hand and curling his fingers against your sweet spot. she wishes a goodnight, and you respond in unison. the moment her bedroom door locks, he pulls the blanket off.

your clothes along with his joins the blanket on the couch. he relaxes on the couch and makes you straddle him. his cock pokes your cunt, twitching with need. his hands perch on your hips as he guides you slowly down his cock.

“fuck,” he groans, seeing his cock disappear into your cunt.

you take purchase on his shoulders while preparing to ride him. broken moans fall from his lips as you start to bounce. his hands slide down to your ass, and he gropes and massages them.

in a hope to tone down his moans, he connects his lips to yours. tongue meets tongue as your moans mix together, creating a lewd symphony. your thighs slap against his and your arousal drips down his cock to his balls.

his cock splits you open deliciously. the swollen tip hits all the right spots with precision. he fits perfectly with you, like two puzzle pieces. the kiss turns sloppy and messy. your tongue glides over his and your spit mixes with his. you taste his lewd noises on your tongue, a fuel to ride him with more energy.

your pulse beats in your cunt, and you're clenching around him in no time. mingyu does his best and meets your hips with urgency. his lips wrap around your pebbled nipple, sucking with a fervor.

soon, only his hips are moving as he holds you still against him. his strong arms wrap around you, hips drilling into yours every millisecond. but his thighs tremble, giving away his approaching orgasm.

his movements turn sloppy and his moans louder. awareness seeps into your mind when you realise you both could be caught easily. somehow, it only arouses you further. you move against him desperately, feeling his cock kiss all the right places.

you grind against him, chasing friction. sensing your neediness, he slips his hand between your bodies. his thumb circles your clit and he takes your nipple into his mouth again. your nerves fire up, overwhelmed by the attention on your body.

your cunt clenches around his twitching cock. he whines your name with more urgency and you do the same. “fuck, mingyu.”

the orgasm washes over you with an intensity that makes you quiver in his hold. with you wildly clenching around him, he meets his climax as well. he doesn't pull out and warm ribbons of cum spill inside you.

“mingyu!” you gasp in shock but he shushes you with a kiss. his tongue slips past your lips, eager to suck on yours. he holds you still and empties his load inside you. your initial protest melts away as lust seeps into your skin again.

you feel so dirty but so, so good.

mingyu shuts the tv off and picks up the clothes, all while staying inside you. a surprised gasp falls from your lips when he picks you up and walks to his room. there, you fall asleep in his arms with his cock still buried deep inside you.

mingyu's vision turns green when he sees you laughing and chatting with your guy ‘friend.’ since when did you invite your guy friends to dinners at home?

he makes sure that he does not like that guy. didn't even bother learning his name. a seat draws abruptly and four pairs of eyes settle on mingyu. “dessert anyone?”

all except your dad agrees. “wait, take your sister with you. i don't want any broken dishes tonight.”

he doesn't spare you a glance and walks to the pantry. you follow him to choose whatever fits your appetite. maybe, you should've known better than to stay in a room alone with mingyu.

the moment the pantry door is shut, he's all over you.

“mingyu—stop, others are out there.” you gasp, feeling him shift his entire weight on you.

a low scoff resonates from his chest, “you didn't care about others during our parent's wedding.”

the recall of the memory sets your nerves on fire. fuck. of course, he pulled that card.

there's no use in resisting him. especially when your body is screaming at you to submit to him. his hands itch to tear off the pretty dress you're wearing, but he decided against it.

instead, he lifts up your dress and yanks down your pretty matching underwear. a condescending chuckle resonates from his throat, “you sure you just brought him over for dinner?”

his eyes turn a shade deeper when a thought strikes him.

“or, did you already fuck him?”

his tone sends a wave of arousal through your body. you felt like a prey being cornered by a predator. his gaze is animalistic as he looks down at you, his glasses slipping off his nose once again.

“no, no! we didn't-i didn'—”

you're cut off when he slots his lips on yours. that alone is enough to elicit a moan from you. “good girl,”

he backs away from you but keeps his hand under your dress, slowly hiking it up further till your glistening pussy greets his eyes. a sadistic grin stretches on his lips as he watches arousal drip from your cunt.

he collects the fluid and smears them on your cheeks and lips, earning a whine from you.

“mingyu, they'll be suspicious if we're gone for too long.”

“and?”

a sharp sting shoots through your core. it takes some seconds for you to realise that he slapped your cunt. your jaw falls slack in shock but mingyu isn't deterred. he looks at you with hooded eyes as he delivers another slap to your cunt.

you're embarrassingly wet now and it drips down your thighs. mingyu licks his fingers before slapping your core again. a few more slaps has you whining and trembling. your cunt only gets more and more wet with each slap.

“you,” slap,

“are,” slap,

“mine.” slap.

he pokes his cheek with his tongue when you don't respond. a tut from his lips brings you back from euphoria and you stare at him with wide eyes. he roughly yanks you closer, one hand on the small of your back while another squeezes your cheek together.

you whine, more needy than ever. he shushes you, brushing his thumb over your lip. “it's ok, i can forgi—”

“spit in my mouth.”

he takes a few seconds to decipher what you said, so you repeat it. with more desperation. “mingyuu, spit in my mouth. please!”

smugness fills his veins, and he's more than happy to oblige. he collects his saliva and spits it in your mouth when you push your tongue out with your eyes rolled back.

but your bliss is cut short when he places some dessert in your hand, nodding at you to go back. “and, i'm keeping this.” he pockets your panty and follows behind you.

your hand clasps the knob when he delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “fast. you wanna get caught or somethin’?”

you were more than confused when mingyu sent a text that your ‘guy friend’ was waiting at home for you. given that, it's been a week since that dinner incident and you haven't even spoken to your friend since then.

but, you're not confused anymore. not when mingyu has you on all fours, pounding your cunt as your ‘friend’ watches.

your wanton moans sync with the lewd skin slaps. his hands perch on your hips, maneuvering your body to his needs. heavy balls slap against your clit, providing you the utmost pleasure.

the fact that someone else is witnessing this debauchery doesn't bother you. in fact, it arouses you and floods your cunt with wetness. and because your parents are out of town, it gives you the freedom to be as loud as you can.

you arch your back, leaning into all of his touches. his hand ascends to your neck, fingers hooking into your hair. you yelp when he tugs on it, the sharp sting is delicious through your lust haze and you moan louder.

he releases his grip, opting for a painless grip—his fingers wrap around your nape. the other still perches on your hips as he continues to pound you into the next dimension.

much to mingyu's amusement and annoyance, that guy's pumping his cock to the scene in front of him. with a roll of his eyes, he fucks your harder, with more force in his thrusts.

his movements are fluid. anyone can tell that this isn't a first for you both, that you've fucked multiple times before. he lands a slap on your ass, groping and spreading your cheeks.

even though, he's been fucking you straight for the past twenty minutes, he doesn't feel his climax anywhere near. so he arches your back and puts you in a chokehold. his biceps tighten around your neck, veins visible and pulsing with adrenaline.

“fuck! fuck! mingyu, please—” loud, lewd moans fill his ears and he savors each syllable that falls from your lips. it pushes him to fuck you harder and harder, till you completely fall apart in his arms. till your mind melts, and all you can remember is him. only him.

you scream, the orgasm washing over you unexpectedly. you tremble in his hold, sensitive from your climax. but mingyu isn't done. he pushes you onto the mattress and you grip the duvet with the energy left in you.

mingyu abuses your hole, thrusting sharply as his orgasm creeps closer. his balls slap against your clit, aiding in your overstimulation. with another sharp thrust, he cums inside you. a loud groan rumbles from his chest, letting the voyeur in your room know that he's reached his climax.

he pulls out and with that, his load also spills out. mingyu falls on the bed next to you, heaving for breath. another moan resonates in the room, and he lifts his head to look at the guy with a raised eyebrow. ah, right.

with a grin, mingyu walks towards him. although he's smiling, it's anything but friendly.

“listen, if any of this gets out—”

their conversation falls out of your earshot when your stepbrother starts whispering into his ears. but it isn't a mystery that he's threatening him. you don't bother with it much and fall asleep, feeling more spent than ever.

a memory plays out in your dreams, one that feels much more like the latter than the former.

[THE DAY OF YOUR PARENT'S WEDDING]

you groan out of annoyance and scream into your hands. nothing seems to be working your way today.

the heater doesn't work. your dad is marrying someone else, just six months after the divorce. your cereals were soggy. and, now you can't zip your fucking bridesmaid dress.

a knock on the door refocuses your attention. through the mirror, you see mingyu standing near the door. embarrassment shoots through your veins but you feign a smile and turn to look at him. before both of you can exchange words, his mother comes up.

“hi dear! oh, you look absolutely lovely.” she smiles at you, a genuine one. but you don't feel it in you to reciprocate it. you muster up your best smile and thank her, telling her the same.

“aww, thank you. oh, right! mingyu here said that he wanted to speak with you.”

your heart drops down to your stomach. ah, how could you forget your soon-to-be step brother from your list of mishaps? he isn't exactly mean or nice. he just acts as if you don't exist. and it hurts, especially when you feel such an attraction towards him.

you see him protest back, spitting something along the lines of “i never said that,” it worsens your nerves. she snaps at him, giving him a glare and you a smile. your heart palpitates when his mother closes the door and locks it.

mingyu doesn't say anything, instead takes time to compose himself. meanwhile, you contemplate on how to zip up your dress without further embarra— “need help with the zipper?”

“huh? ye-yes.” well, shit.

he stalks towards you and you turn around, involuntarily. you move your hair out of the way for him. he places one of his hands on the exposed skin of your neck and the other zips up your dress, albeit slowly.

and you swear on god that he caresses your skin while doing so. but you sum it up to your horny brain playing tricks on you. “thank you,” you whisper, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

“you're welcome.” his deep timbre voice shoots arousal down to your core and your body raises in temperature.

he inhales sharply before muttering, “mom wants me to get along with you.”

“but i don't want to.”

it stings. more than you'd like to admit. he continues, not giving you a chance to respond. “i don't want them to marry. i suppose you don't either. and i certainly don't want to follow whatever fucking rules they say.”

his eyes are trained on you the entire time, and you maintain it. even though, your nerves are all over the place and you're trying really hard to focus on his eyes and not lips.

“we could be good friends,” he suddenly moves closer. much closer. his body presses against yours and his hands settle on your hips. his chin rests on your shoulder and he maintains eye contact through the mirror. “only, if you can obey somethings.”

that tingles your stomach and you're more than intrigued to know what he means.

“like what?”

he smirks and breaks eye contact to look at you, rather than your reflection. “like that i'd rather be your fuckbuddy than your stepbrother.”

mingyu's heart paces on its own and he prays to god that he didn't hallucinate the way you look at him sometimes. where your eyes drift and the emotion swirling behind them. his assumptions are affirmed true when you arch your back, pressing your ass against his crotch.

he tries to control his smile and maintain his image to you. which proves to be very hard when you whine so cutely, “oh, fuck me.”

the zipper he'd just done comes undone as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses all over your nape and the exposed skin of your back. he presses his hard-on against your ass, feeling his cock sink into the plush flesh of—

“you both have better made friends!”

he pushes away from you, but not before he zips your dress. he fixes his suit, and you pat down the perspiration on your face. she unlocks the door and smiles at you both.

“look at you both! aww,” she engulfs you both in a hug, and you pray to god she doesn't feel your palpitating heart.

[...]

the elevator dings open and whoever was on the other side lets out a surprised noise and scrambles away. but you don't give a fuck neither does mingyu.

his tongue glides over yours in a hot, deep kiss, such that your faces are obscured to anyone who can stumble upon you. the heat of his body seeps into you, driving you absolutely crazy.

the elevator dings again, the automated doors opening to the floor of your room. his hands are all over your body and so are his lips. he nibbles on your ear lobe and neck, licking the patches of red he leaves behind.

you swipe the key card with much effort and finally get in. mingyu pins you to the door as soon as you get in, grinding his hard on against your stomach. he reconnects his lips with yours, humming in content.

the bed creaks with each of his thrusts. surely, there would be complaints from the neighbors but could care less about everything else. your mind can only focus on mingyu's cock drilling in and out of you.

mingyu's addicted to the image of you writhing in pleasure, underneath him. and the bulge of his cock that appears whenever he thrusts does little to soothe aching desire.

his balls slap your ass with each heavy thrust. your breaths mingle together as he splits you open on his cock. his canines ghost over your neck, and he sinks them into your skin, wanting to see how it looks. how you'd look with his mark.

you look perfect, he thinks, absolutely drunk on the idea of making you his.

it pushes him to fuck you harder. he pushes your knees on either side of your head, drilling his cock inside you deeper and deeper. your moans turn into screams with the drive of his cock. his leaking cock is buried to the hilt, hitting your sweet, spongy spot now and then.

you lose the ability to form coherent sources. only babbles and whines fall from your lips, absolutely drunk by his cock. mingyu adds to it by reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. the delicious friction has you mewling and canting your hips.

your nails rake his back as he continues to pound your cunt with all of his strength. that combined with the clit stimulation makes you sob and squirm underneath him. your legs quiver and toes curl. your breathing turns rapid and the knot in your abdomen gets tighter.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!”

he presses your knees further down, fucking you with much ardour. tears stream down your face and broken sobs tear from your throat. mingyu licks your tears, and stares at you, drinking the sight beneath him. his cock twitches when you look up at him, “shit.”

your hips lift off the bed and legs tremble more than ever. you gasp loudly when you cum. the orgasm crashes over you, making your body a quivering mess. you see stars and you feel as if you're not on earth anymore, as if you're in heaven. mingyu brought heaven down to you.

you only realise that he pulled out when you feel his weight on your body. his body quivers just the same as yours, breathing rapidly and consciousness in another dimension. he rolls off you, lying on the spot next to you.

warm cum decorates your abdomen and it feels so right but so wrong.

“thanks,” you blurt out, regretting it immediately. he chuckles, “for what?”

[NOW]

“everything.” you mumble in your sleep and mingyu glances at you with confusion. you mutter more things and it causes him to chuckle. he pinches your cheek and kisses it.

his hand caresses your back as he cuddles you. it somehow feels right despite the moral restrictions. but he doesn't care, not when you look so peaceful, curled up on his side.

it may be debauched, but it sure as hell is his heaven.

[prael]

Day 7: Rockstar

Loona/ARTMS Jinsoul x male reader smut

words: 3,223 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. That's probably the order she would put them in.

It might seem cliché, but there's nothing new under the sun. Life on tour is an endless cycle of late-night gigs and after-parties searching for something to drink, take or fuck. It's an addiction, the lifestyle, and Jinsoul isn't an exception to the rule.

Every performance goes exactly the same: play to a sold-out crowd, have a little something backstage, give some autographs, follow the drink wherever it leads and then end the night fucking her lead guitarist. Rinse and repeat. It's easy enough to follow the routine once you've got the hang of things.

She convinced you to pick it up for the first time back in high school. She told you that you had real talent and should really give the whole music thing a shot. She said you had natural charm when you held a guitar and could make everyone in the room pay attention, so you played along because you wanted to see if her words were true or not.

As it turned out, she was right. You might have never played anything in your life before joining Jinsoul in the practice room, but you're a quick learner, talented too. You followed her instructions, listened to all the little details of what being a rockstar means and eventually made it big. Together.

It isn't like you owe her everything for helping you through this life but you appreciate everything she has done for you, nonetheless. If Jinsoul had said jump, you'd be asking her how high but unfortunately for you, you can't exactly tell her this without looking like that one crazy stalker fan (that's an entirely different story).

When you're with the others though, performing together on stage with thousands of people screaming out their love and adoration as your fingers dance up and down your fretboard, well, there are no words to describe the feeling. You're addicted. It's thrilling, nerve-racking, terrifying and amazing all at the same time.

And the truth is, you feel it just like she does. You step off the stage and reach for whatever bottle you can find because the adrenaline coursing through your veins is electrifying, but the buzz always leaves too quickly. So, in order to prolong the high, you take it back to the hotel. Groupies, liquor and the hard stuff; everything is fair game.

-

Jinsoul has her hand wrapped firmly around your waist as she brings her body close to grinding against your thigh while singing into the mic. Her breathy voice sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers continue to glide effortlessly across strings while staring out into the sea of faceless bodies cheering as they sway from side to side beneath strobe lighting.

The lead vocalist grips tightly onto your shirt as her tongue darts over your earlobe, causing your skin to prickle with sensation before leaning away again. She grins wickedly, knowing what kind of effect she can have on you before returning to strutting across the stage. She dances in time with each chord progression you create. Watching as Jinsoul plays with her fans who push forward eagerly at any opportunity, hoping their fingertips can graze hers for even half a second, she laughs. The flashing lights are flickering in a seemingly random pattern, illuminating her features and casting shadows upon them all at once.

It's the encore. Fans chanting and begging for more. All their attention fixed solely upon Jinsoul; her movements so captivatingly beautiful yet dangerously provocative. Everything about her radiates confidence—power—lust. You watch carefully when she bends down to place a chaste kiss on a fan's hand; you watch when she takes the lollipop from one guy's mouth and puts it between her teeth. Smiling smugly to herself after spitting it out back at him. And you can't help yourself either... It's impossible not to get drawn into her orbit whenever she gets like this.

As much as everyone loves a good show, it ends too soon. Everything finishes with your eyes meeting hers through sweaty bangs; hands clapping in unison along with the rest of the band as they thank the audience for coming out tonight.

A smile still remains plastered firmly on Jinsoul's lips despite how exhausted she appears after performing for hours straight. Sweat beads glisten across her brow and drip down her temple as she pants heavily from exertion but still maintains that air of invincibility and untouchability, like always.

The lights dim and you're making your way off stage with Jinsoul hot on your tail behind you. You turn around intending to compliment her performance, only managing halfway before suddenly she presses her palm flat against the wall beside your head, pinning you against it. Her eyes glint mischievously at seeing how flustered you've become, having her so close to your face again.

"I know I did amazing." She says simply, before licking her upper lip seductively.

Before you know it her hand is already wrapped around the nape of your neck pulling you toward her and into a rough kiss filled with needful desperation. Tongue sliding past yours in earnest exploration before sliding away again to drag along the roof of your mouth instead. A gasp leaves your lungs being stolen away by Jinsoul, who eagerly swallows it down as if it were nourishment enough to sustain herself completely on its own.

"I need a drink," she murmurs huskily before pulling on your wrist leading towards the dressing rooms where several bottles await you in ice.

-

Another night, another fucking blur. It started in the dressing room with your band members; congratulating themselves for playing such an incredible gig together whilst downing shots and racking lines until they forget why exactly it is that they should even celebrate anymore.

You know little of what happened between then and now. Just snapshots. An image in your mind of Jinsoul dancing on a table surrounded by strangers all cheering her name. A memory of a bathroom stall where you found yourself with your pants pulled halfway down to your knees, some girl whose face remains indistinguishable giving you sloppy head. Then there are parts where you recall talking animatedly with some fan asking what's your favourite track from their album, others asking you to sign their breasts because they didn't bring anything else to write on. More of just flashes, really—snapshots of moments lost forever amongst booze, drugs and cigarette smoke.

It must have been a miracle that got the two of you back here alone without any incident or accident happening beforehand, considering neither of you could walk properly without stumbling over something unseen every couple of steps taken forward. Regardless, however, eventually, you do reach the hotel room door, which swings open violently crashing loudly into the wall behind it. Kicked by Jinsoul, who couldn't care less about causing damage or waking people up around you because she wants nothing more right now than to get laid.

Jinsoul's lips crush against yours almost immediately, stealing your breath away just as soon as it escapes from your lungs. Teeth clash clumsily while tongues slide hungrily within each other's mouths, fighting fiercely until finally breaking apart once air becomes scarce between you both.

Your mouth travels downward along her jawline, sucking bruises into soft flesh wherever possible—finding purchase there to continue making marks upon unmarred skin otherwise unknown and wanting—a place forbidden by nature yet entirely inviting, nonetheless. Fingertips dance gracefully across her curves until her legs give out, sending the two of you falling onto the bed without caution or warning whatsoever.

She's pulling off her ripped jeans. You're helping remove everything else until she sits before you fully exposed wearing nothing but those sinful fishnet stockings covering perfectly toned calves leading upward towards her thighs. They contrast beautifully against her flawless pale complexion; smooth as marble but warm beneath your touch, unlike the cold stone ever could hope to achieve.

Time and time again, no matter how often you've done this exact thing, seeing her bare like this never fails to amaze you. This angelic creature baring herself shamelessly beneath bright lights—openly inviting your gaze as though daring it not to look elsewhere but at her. And god knows how difficult resisting temptation truly is...

"Fucking come on." Her speech is slurred.

Her impatience shows clearly through alcohol-glazed eyes staring expectantly up at yours, silently pleading desperately for action. She doesn't need to ask twice, though; you gladly oblige, willingly pressing palms firmly upon inner thighs. Pushing gently outward, spreading wide welcoming hips before pressing two fingers roughly inside her slick, wet cunt.

Jinsoul's body arches upwards off the bedding instantly from pleasure, throwing her head backwards against pillows as loud moans escape parted lips. You're sloppy. Messy. Drunkenly probing into her pussy, desperately trying to hit that spot deep within her core, which always manages to drive her absolutely insane.

"No," she groans in frustration. "Fuck me." Every word she speaks takes an effort to enunciate clearly, each syllable struggling against the haze clouding her mind from reason. "Fingers aren't enough..."

You understand immediately what she means when she looks at you with those half-lidded eyes filled with need; lustful desire burning intensely within pupils dilated to full width now. She wants you to fuck her. Hard. With your cock buried deep inside her until she forgets everything else, but how amazing it feels being filled completely by you.

And so, you oblige once more... removing fingers covered entirely, coated thickly in Jinsoul's juices before quickly fumbling at your trousers. Undoing zippers hastily and pulling them down past your knees where they fall onto carpet flooring forgotten alongside all other articles removed already.

She's watching you undress, her eyes roaming your body with their haze. Lips curling upwards into a smirk before licking over teeth, hungrily anticipating what comes next. She knows exactly what she wants from you. Knows just how badly she needs it right now, too.

She sees you're ready, and without a word, she climbs onto all fours. Leaning forward on hands and knees before lowering her face onto the sheets below, presenting herself fully exposed before you, waiting eagerly for what comes next. And as soon as your tip brushes against her entrance, wetting itself upon her lips, it's all so familiar to you. You've been here a hundred times before.

You slap down hard onto her ass, making the skin turn pink. Jinsoul yelps out, surprised, but enjoys the sensation nonetheless. You repeat this several more times until her butt cheeks burn deep crimson under contact with each strike delivered forcefully across them. She groans loudly with each blow struck upon sensitive flesh, causing pain mixed deliciously together alongside pleasure.

When done playing games, finally, you grab her hips firmly—tightly enough that fingerprints will remain bruised tomorrow morning—before plunging forward into Jinsoul's cunt, burying yourself balls-deep within her core instantly. She always says sex after a show is special. Whether it's the adrenaline, the drink, the drugs or whatever the hell else that fuels you, you give it to her good every single time.

Your thrusts become rough and quick almost immediately. Skin slapping loudly together with each movement made forcefully enough to cause ripples across flesh bouncing back from the impact. It's messy. Dirty. Filthy. But Jinsoul loves every minute of being fucked hard like this—every moment spent pounding into her pussy again and again relentlessly.

She feels so good around you. Hot. Tight. Wet. Your cock slides smoothly between slick folds, easily finding purchase within soft walls stretching accommodatingly around its size. She moans loudly, screaming obscenities with each thrust given, encouraging you further until eventually, she climaxes, screaming out your name in ecstasy.

Jinsoul collapses forward onto the bedding below, completely spent from orgasm. But you're still as hard as ever. You follow her down, boning her into the bed with your pelvis slapping hard against her ass cheeks, smashing them repeatedly against skin reddened by prior contact already.

She gasps in shock at feeling you still going, unable to do much else except accept how wonderfully incredible it feels being fucked senselessly. You pound away at her pussy, relentlessly continuing your assault. Thrusts becoming faster now, quicker in pace. You can't be sure, but you think she's cumming again. The way her body shudders uncontrollably beneath you, convulsing violently while her voice cracks mid-moan. She cries out in ecstasy, calling for god knows who or what, but fuck if it doesn't make you want to finish too.

You're entranced in ecstasy, lost within a haze of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending within your body. And before long, you're cumming hard into her cunt. You're collapsing down against her. Chest to back. Her willing body pressed into the bed beneath you. But still, somehow, she manages to reach backwards, grabbing tightly onto your arm with one hand, pulling you closer towards her until your lips meet hers once more.

Your tongues dance together in perfect sync, tasting one another intensely as they battle for dominance between mouths. Kisses become sloppy. Desperate. You both need more from each other than you currently have within yourselves to give.

And finally, when you break away, breathing heavily, she murmurs, "Nothing beats this, right? Nothing... feels better than fucking you."

You know she's right. Nothing does come close to how amazing it feels to be inside her.

-

The next morning you wake up with your head throbbing painfully, feeling hungover as hell. Not a lot of the night before remains in your head except for vague images of Jinsoul dancing on tables surrounded by admirers cheering her name, or maybe you were the one doing all that. You don't remember.

You roll your head to the side. To the empty space beside you.

"Jinsoul?"

There's a numb tremor that runs up your body—a feeling caught somewhere between confusion and pleasure.

You find yourself reaching out to touch her, wanting desperately to feel the warmth radiating from her skin but instead finding nothing except cold air and soft sheets. She's gone. It's not like this is the first time this has happened though...

"I'm right here, idiot," she says softly.

She wraps her mouth around your cock again, slowly bobbing her head up and down along its length. There's the feeling again. It's her; dragged out of your sleepy haze one suck at a time until finally you're able to fully appreciate everything about it.

Her tongue laps over the tip. Her hand strokes gently at the base while the other plays with your balls. It's fucking amazing. It always is whenever she does this. You watch as she takes you completely into her mouth, wrapping her lips around you before slowly pulling back off. Her cheeks hollow slightly as she sucks hard on the head, causing you to groan loudly and buck your hips upward involuntarily.

She looks up at you through thick lashes. Her eyes were stained with last night's makeup; mascara smudged across her face creating dark circles around her irises, but still somehow managing to retain their natural beauty despite that fact. You smile at her and she smiles back, before taking you deep once more.

Your hands grip tightly onto the bed sheets beside you as she begins pumping faster now, bobbing her head up and down your length with renewed vigour. What a way to wake up in the morning, huh?

"Fuck," you hiss between clenched teeth. "Keep going."

Your hips thrust up again, causing Jinsoul to gag slightly at the sudden movement suddenly coming from beneath her. She looks up at you, meeting your eyes again before winking playfully.

She pushes her throat onto you until her lips meet the base of your cock. You moan loudly, unable to contain yourself any longer and reach out, grabbing roughly onto her hair, forcing her head forward even further.

She gags once more but doesn't stop moving her mouth up and down along your shaft. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer. You don't know how much longer you can last like this, so you tug firmly at Jinsoul's locks again; signalling to her that you're about to cum.

She releases you from her mouth with a loud pop, then wastes no time in crawling over you. Straddling her hips above yours, she guides you to her entrance before lowering herself onto you. Her cunt is already a mess, wet with excitement, and stained with last night's debauchery. It doesn't bother her, riding you like this in the morning. She loves it.

The sight of her naked body bouncing on top of yours is enough to make anyone lose their mind and fuck if you don't want to see this every damn day of your life. The way her tits bounce in tandem with each movement made, how her mouth hangs open slightly in ecstasy as she throws her head back, letting out a moan now and then. Fuck, she's so goddamn sexy.

She knows what she's doing, too. Knows how to draw this out as long as possible, prolonging your pleasure for as long as she can without breaking eye contact with you. She rides you hard; hips thrusting forward aggressively, then slowing to a laboured grind that leaves you reeling for more.

"Good morning," she coos seductively.

You're mesmerised by her—completely hypnotised by everything about her. And before long, you're reaching out, grabbing onto her waist, guiding her movements as best as you can manage.

She leans over and kisses you hungrily while continuing to fuck herself on top of your cock. Her tongue pushes into your mouth, swirling around inside, tasting every inch available. The kiss is hot, wet and messy, but perfect, nonetheless.

Jinsoul breaks away from you and places her hands on either side of your head, steadying herself as she rides you harder and faster now, bringing both of you closer and closer towards orgasm. Your fingers dig into her skin, gripping tightly onto flesh for purchase as you feel yourself nearing climax.

It's too much. It's all too fucking good. You can't take anymore. You're not going to last another second longer. You need release. Desperately.

At the very last, you buck her off, throw her down to the bed and climb to your knees, hovering over her as you begin jacking yourself off furiously. The sight of her lying there, legs spread wide open, waiting patiently for you to cum on her only intensifies the sensation building within your core.

"Fuck!"

With one final cry, you erupt onto Jinsoul's stomach, painting white streaks across taut skin stretched taut across toned abs. Up to her tits too, ropes of cum covering pink nipples standing erect beneath it. You collapse next to her, completely spent from exertion. She laughs softly, running fingertips through damp hair and sticking messily to her forehead before wiping away sweat beads dripping down her chin.

"You always finish quick when we do this in the morning," she whispers teasingly.

You laugh too. "You just look too good."

She rolls over, planting a quick kiss on your lips. "Good enough to give me another in the shower?"

You grin.

She matches it with a knowing stare.

This is the life.

[cvnntagious]

𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘’𝐒 𝐀𝐔 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

so wet [ fuckboy!matt ]

with there only being so many showers at the frat, matt had insisted you go before him after everyone got out of the pool, opting to wait on his brother’s bed while you handled your business. but when you asked him if he was sure, and even offered for the two of you to shower together in claims that it’d save time, how could he say no?

that’s how you got here: your leg wrapped around matt’s waist as he slid his dick through your dripping pussy, his body pressing you up against the wall behind you. you weren’t sure why you expected an innocent shower with matt, hoping maybe you’d wash his hair and he’d scrub your back.

that’s not how it works with him.

its never been how it works with him — always finding a way to lure you into opening your legs for him. it started with simple massages on your ass, hips grinding into it subtly as you rinse the soap out of your hair. but of course, as soon as he turned you around, you were done for.

you weren’t exactly complaining though. in fact. quite the opposite. small whines and pleas escaped your mouth, your arms squeezing to pull him in closer. “shi- shiittt,” you groaned, your head thrown back against the tiling.

matt didn’t bother keeping it slow and steady, the slipperiness of the shower not scaring him one bit as he angled himself up into you. “keep squeezin’ me jus’ like than an-“ he started, coming to an abrupt stop when he heard a knock at the door.

his widened eyes snapped from your pleasured expression to the locked door, hand flying up to cover your mouth. “yeah?” he called out, not paying any mind to the way you huffed irritatedly into his palm.

with much slower, deliberate strokes, matt resumed pumping into you. risky, he knew, but he was more worried about keeping you satisfied than the idea of getting caught by some frat brother; it wouldn’t be his first time, anyway. “y’almost done in there? we’re tryna eat after this,” you two heard chris’ muffled voice, your whimpers stifled matt’s grip on your face.

he gave a nod, despite the fact that chris couldn’t see it, chuckling a bit when his gaze flickers to the mix of emotions on your face. you were clearly petrified, but unable to stop the furrow of your brow that told matt he was making you feel so good. “yeah dude, m’jus gettin dressed,” he yelled over the running water in reply, “but the girl might take a minute… she’s not finished yet.”

finished. well shit, you were close though. and as soon as that ‘alright,’ traveled through your ear drums, matt’s tip prodded at your g-spot. another muffled whimper escaped your covered mouth, your blurry vision meeting matt’s white smile.

there was a moment of quietness between the two of you, save for the running water as matt’s hips continued to rut into yours. he continued to keep you quite for a moment, hand pressing your head in the wall while he covered your mouth. “can feel y’squeezin me,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “cum then, make it quick—got everybody out there waitin’ for us.”

with that, he removed his hand from your mouth, chuckling as you let out a loud whine. both of you were thankful the water was muffling the noises, all of them falling past your guys’ lips with no shame. “m- matt!” you wailed, feeling as if you were melting into his body as he practically caged you in like some sort of predator cornering its prey.

“shit, shit! gonna-“ you babbled, but matt already knee what you meant, burying himself deeper in you to send you right over the edge, “matt, a- oh my—“

w/c : ??

a/n : apologies for taking so long with this, i’m chronically ill and that will be my excuse from now on !

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[daydreams-after-dark]

All Stops to Cumville Station?

Fem!reader x skz (mainly Minho, Seungmin and Chan)

fem!reader has 8 cocks to milk / ride

A/n: Inspired by a porn video on twt where a woman was riding reverse with cum all over asscheeks, and leaking out of her. Her high waisted briefs were soaking and pulled to the side. I knew I had to write something, because I love it when reader is a cum dump.

CW: unprotected p in v sex / creampies / spanking / dirty talk / degradation and name calling “slut” etc / brief anal play / videoing sex / pain kink (chan likes reader to be sore) /

🤡🤡🤡

You were covered in the cum of five men - so far. It was running down your legs, smeared all over your ass cheeks, soaking your short stretchy booty shorts that were currently being pulled to the side while you were bouncing up and down reverse cowgirl on your sixth cock of the night.

The squelching sounds were obscene as Minho fucked the cum of previous men back up into your cunt.

You’d already fucked Felix, Ji, Binnie, Hyunjin and Jeongin. There was a system to it. The first guy would lay on the bed and you’d fuck him until he came. He’d get to choose whether he came in you or on you, then you’d pop off onto all fours, letting him admire his work.

Then he’d slide off the bed and be immediately replaced with the next in line, and you’d sink down into his cock.

Rinse and repeat.

Oh and they were videoing you with their phones to be added to your group chat later.

“Fuck. It’s oozing out everywhere. You can’t get enough of it can you, kitten.” Minho grunted as he met your thrusts. “Fucking cockslut.” He slapped your slippery ass, then squeezed it harshly. “That’s our little whore. Fuckin’ grind on it… just like that. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.”

You worked his cock hard with your pussy as he continued to hold your shorts to the side so he could watch his cock being swallowed up by your greedy hole.

“I’m ��bout to come so deep in your cunt, kitten. You want it? You wanna be filled to the brim with it?”

“Ngh…yes…give me your cum… fucking give it me.” You cried, and felt him empty himself deep inside you.

“Mmm… perfect little pussy you’ve got. Up.” He tapped you on the ass. “You’ve still got two more cocks to milk.”

He slid out from the bed, not even taking a moment to admire his cum seeping from your hole, and Seungmin took his place. He started by spreading your cheeks to watch the cum dribble out of you.

"You're a filthy slut." he stated as he smeared the cum around the outside of your pussy then wiped his hand on your shorts.

“Get on my cock.” He pulled on your hips, forcing you to impale yourself on his long length.

As he held your shorts to the side, his thumb pressed on your asshole, making you moan and writhe faster. You loved it when he’d push a finger into you while you fucked him.

Seungmin wasn’t the type to thrust. He liked to make you do all the work. You were exhausted, you’d already had four orgasms, and milking cocks is hard work. But you always want to give these men every ounce of enthusiasm and energy that you have, and so you did your very best to fuck Seungmin’s brains out.

He doesn’t stretch you out as much as the others, but he’s long, and it’s hard to avoid him hitting your cervix on every bounce. The pleasure-pain had you hurtling towards another orgasm.

The slippery slapping sounds of skin on skin that was covered in cum was loud and obscene. It was filthy, dirty, raw fucking, and you loved being used like a cum dump.

“You gonna cum for me, slut?” He pushed his thumb inside you, making you clamp down around him.

“F-fuck…Ngh…coming.” You rocked your hips frantically as you came hard.

“Fuck…so tight…shit…” he shoved you off his cock and pumped himself, shooting ropes of cum onto your asshole.

“Fuck, yeah. Let’s put some of that into your slutty hole.” He murmured scooping up the cum and pushing into your ass. Then he pulled your shorts back into place. They were practically see through they were so sopping wet from cum.

Your last cock of the night was Chan’s. He always went last. He’d always takes his time admiring all his boy’s handiwork.

“Let’s peel these off you. I want nothing in the way, babygirl.” He slid your ruined shorts off and threw them to the side.

“Time for a hole inspection. On all fours. Quick.” He said urgently. “Fuck.” He hummed as he spread you open. “So swollen. So much cum. Fuckin’ everywhere.”

He massaged your ass cheeks and dragged his thumbs along your slit, causing you to wince. “Sensitive? Sore?” He he inquired.

“Mmm…yes. S-sore.” You whimpered.

“Good.” He whispered. “Means you’re ready for me.” He loved it when your pussy was tender. You always came so much harder around his cock. That’s why he always went last. He also liked being the last cock on your mind when you went home too. He wanted you to feel him for days.

“That’s it. Ride my cock, babygirl.”

Chan was the biggest of the bunch, thick, long, obscenely veiny, delicious for both your mouth and cunt.

“You love being fucked by all of us, yeah? Love squeezing every last drop out of us, huh?”

“Y-yes. Fuck… feels so big… Channie… so good…shit.” You babbled incoherently as you used every last drop of energy to ride him as hard as you could.”

“Look at what my boys did to you. Made a mess all over you pretty ass.”

He spanked you hard on one of your cheeks.

“Make a deal with you, babygirl. Make me cum in less than three minutes and I’ll get Ji and Jinnie to clean this mess up with their mouths….fail… and you go home in your cum filled shorts like a little slut.”

You had never been more determined to win a bet in your life.

Permanent tag list open

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy

[cjlouwho]

so I made this post yesterday then felt the need to turn it into a little fic. enjoy!

“Oh my God, Evan,” Tommy breathed out heavily, trying to keep himself from grinding up against Buck's thigh.

Buck's only response was a hum against Tommy's neck, licking at the spot he'd been sucking on before going in for a bite.

Tommy had gotten to Buck's place about an hour ago. They'd managed to have dinner, dessert, and clean up most of the kitchen before Buck decided they'd gone long enough without touching. Tommy was rinsing the last of the dishes when Buck pressed himself against Tommy's back, reaching under the hem of his shirt to drag his hands over Tommy's muscles.

It didn't take long for the dishes to be forgotten. Or for Tommy's shirt to be tossed onto the table on their way up the stairs. Buck had lost his pants somewhere about halfway up the staircase, and the rest of their clothes were in small piles around the room.

They had time tonight. Neither of them had work the next day so it wasn't like they needed to rush through sex to get enough sleep. There would be no alarms to set, no helicopters to fly, no horrible captain to deal with. They could stay in bed for as long as they wanted... and sleep as little as they wanted.

Which is what led to Buck currently working on giving Tommy a hickey. Tommy couldn't actually remember the last time he'd been given a proper hickey. Probably high school, or maybe at a club when he was in his twenties? He couldn't really be sure, but he knew it never felt like this did. Buck's body pressed against his, one hand running over his abs while the other wrapped around the nape of his neck. The feeling of Buck's teeth scraping against his skin, then his tongue swooping in to ease the sting. The feeling of Buck's hair between his fingers while his other hand ran up and down his back and gave his ass an occasional squeeze.

Tommy was pretty sure he was in heaven. He made a mental note to tell his dad, should he ever have to speak to him again, that he did in fact make it through those pearly gates.

One more nibble against his pulse point had Tommy moaning, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting up against Buck.

Buck couldn't help but smirk. “Impatient,” he teased against Tommy's skin, kissing his way back up his jaw until he reached his lips. “I thought you were supposed to be the calm, cool, and collected one?” His lips brushed against Tommy's with every word.

Tommy shook his head, “Not with you,” he said before leaning up enough to give Buck a proper kiss. He could still taste a faint hint of tiramisu on Buck's tongue. Both of Tommy's hands traveled down to Buck's ass and he gave it a proper squeeze, eliciting a moan from him. He took the opportunity to hold tightly onto Buck and flip them over. It wasn't the first time he'd pulled that move, but it made Buck speechless every time, and Tommy loved doing that to him.

“Tom-” he huffed out, trying to find his voice as Tommy started working his way down Buck's chest. “T- Tommy,” he finally moaned. “N- Not fair.”

Tommy laughed against Buck's stomach, pressing a kiss just above his bellybutton. As he was continuing his mission to kiss over every inch of Evan's body before reaching his dick, there was a knock on the door that caused Tommy to pause.

“Ignore it,” Buck all but demanded, his legs twitching for Tommy's mouth to return to his thigh. Not one to disobey a direct order, Tommy continued.

Until the knocking started again. More persistent this time.

“Babe?” Tommy went to sit up, but Buck grabbed at his hair, keeping him in place.

“They'll leave.”

As if on cue, the knocking got louder, and faster.

Tommy sighed, sitting up and releasing himself from Buck's grip.

Buck whined at the loss. “We were just getting to the good part.”

“It could be an emergency,” Tommy said, rolling off the bed to look for his clothes. Begrudgingly, Buck got up as well.

“Hold on!” Buck yelled toward the door, he got his button up off the floor and put it on quickly, not bothering to mess with an undershirt first. As he headed downstairs he picked up his pants and ungracefully put them on. He tried buttoning his shirt, but seemed to skip a few of the buttons on his way, leaving it lopsided.

He didn't even bother trying to fix his hair.

The knocking started again just as Buck swung the door open.

“Took you long enough,” Eddie said, waltzing in with a six pack in one and hand a DVD in the other. “What the hell were you doing?”

“I, um, I was... I was working out,” Buck answered, wincing at his words. He was still in a bit of a daze, and trying very much not to think about the half naked man in his bedroom. He closed the door, then turned to Eddie who was setting his stuff down on the kitchen counter.

“What?!” Eddie exclaimed, sounding slightly offended. “You should have called me, Man. We could've worked out together.”

Which... no.

“Uh, yeah, it... it was a last minute thing. I- What are you doing here, Eddie? Were we hanging out tonight?”

Eddie shrugged. “Figured I'd just stop by. We could watch a movie, drink, I could mourn the loss of my child.”

“You haven't lost him, Eddie.” Buck crossed his arms over his chest, moving toward the kitchen. “He's just figuring stuff out.”

“Mm. Well, anyway,” he pulled out a beer and popped off the cap, taking a sip. “Movie?”

“Uh-”

Before Buck could even try to think of an excuse, Tommy was walking down the stairs. Eddie noticed him first, and Buck turned to see that while he had on his pants, he was wearing a shirt that was very much not his.

Because his shirt was still on thrown on the table.

Whoops.

While Buck and Tommy were nearly the same size, Tommy did have a broader chest. And Buck often opted for tighter fitting clothing, so the particular shirt that Tommy was wearing clung to him like a rubber glove.

And if you asked Buck, that was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen.

“Hey, Eddie,” Tommy greeted, combing his fingers through his hair. It was in no way helping.

“Hey, Tommy!” Eddie replied cheerfully. He moved around the counter and held up his hand for a high five. “This is great! I didn't know you were here. Were you and Buck working out together?”

Tommy gave Buck a confused glance. “Uh, yeah?”

Buck knew that Eddie could be a little slow at putting two and two together. It was a quality they both shared. But he'd get there, and Buck watched as he started putting the puzzle pieces together.

First, he noticed the shirt. Then he noticed Tommy scratch at the hickey on his neck, which the shirt he chose did nothing to hide.

Then his eyes hit the clothes on the table.

Then his mouth opened. “Oh!” He looked back and forth between them, his lips turning up into a little smirk. “Oh you were “working out” working out? Okay, I'm understanding why I wasn't invited now.” He moved to the counter to grab the DVD. “I'm gonna go. Let you two, you know, get your hip thrusts in.”

“Eddie, you don't have to go,” Tommy said. “Might need more beer, but a movie sounds fun.”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed. “It's fine.”

“No, really, I am gonna go and enjoy Marley and Me on my own,” Eddie replied, backing up toward the door.

Tommy grimaced, shaking his head. “You cannot enjoy Marley and Me on your own. That movie broke me. I had to call out of work the next day.”

“Really, guys, it's all good. Sorry for the disruption. I will just...” his voice trailed off as he pointed behind him. He opened the door and left out, leaving Tommy and Buck standing there staring at each other.

“You're gonna go bring him back, right?” Tommy asked after a beat.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, focusing on the way his sleeves gripped Tommy's arms. “I think he'll be okay.”

“Evan.”

“Ugh!” Buck pouted, heading for the door. “Fine.”

Tommy smiled, shaking his head. “I'll order more beer.”

[strang3lov3]

Fever Dream

Roman takes care of you while you’re sick, and you have intense fever dreams about fucking him.

Tags - stepdaddy!roman, smut, unprotected piv, fever dreams, cunnilingus, leg humping/thigh grinding, pussy job, outercourse, teasing, lowkey edging daddy. dirty talk. daddy kink. liiiitlest bit of dubcon, but everyone is into everything, i asked them myself. Fluff adjacent - daddy takes care of you while you’re sick, cleans up your mess. Typical Roman banter. Emetephobia warning - there’s descriptions of vomiting/nausea but it’s not terribly graphic (coming from a person who also has emetephobia) 4.6k words. A/N - hey hey! Been a while since we’ve seen daddy, huh? He missed you, babygirl. @beefrobeefcal and my dear L, thank you for betaing.

stepdaddy!roman masterlist

Something’s…off. 

You’ve been in bed for hours now, not sleeping. Just kind of…passing time. Watching the little red numbers of your digital clock blink, taunting you - it’s now 2:37 AM. The minutes drag like hours, and each second serves as a mocking reminder of just how awake you are. 

You scroll through your phone as you try to distract yourself from the awful, gnawing feeling in your gut, the way your body violently vacillates between hot and cold. If you focus too hard on how terrible you feel, you’ll spiral. Nothing seems to pull your attention away from it, though, and you find yourself trembling, humming rhythmically to soothe yourself. You just wanna sleep. 

Your mouth waters in that sickening, unmistakable way, a sharp twist of your gut has you sitting up straight - it takes you half a second for your brain to process what your body already knows is about to happen. 

You quickly fling your blanket off and sprint to the bathroom, but you don’t make it to the toilet in time. The first violent heave of the night overtakes you, and the sick splatters on the floor and down your front. It’s completely awful in every way, and you’re powerless to fight it. You’re just a slave to that horrible bodily function. You have just a moment to fumble with the lid of the toilet before it’s happening again, sweat dripping down the back of your neck. 

Roman’s been sleeping peacefully in his room, but the muffled sounds of your retching and gagging and sobbing wakes him up. He’s groggy and he’s confused, but his concern for you propels him to get out of bed. It’s his intrinsic sense about you, his unending worry. He paces quickly to your room and calls your name, making a beeline to your bathroom. 

“Hey - oh, fuck.”

Roman turns on the harsh, fluorescent light and the scene punches him in the gut. There you are, on your knees and clutching the toilet bowl as you puke, the acrid smell lingering in the air. You’re a mess, and so is the floor you lie on.

You turn your head just enough to see Roman standing in the doorway, his brow pinched in worry as he takes the sight in. “Get the fuck out, Roman,” you choke out through a raw throat, before it takes over again. 

“What?”

“I don’t want you to see - fuck–” The sentence dies halfway as your body betrays you once again, but Roman knows what you’re trying to say. 

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles, carefully tiptoeing around your mess to meet you at the toilet. He gathers your hair in one hand and holds it back as you empty your insides into the toilet, rubbing your back with the other hand. He can hear you sobbing, and it breaks his heart to know how much pain and discomfort you’re in. 

“I don’t–”

 “Shhh, you’re okay,” Roman whispers. “Just…let it happen. It’s almost over, sweetheart. You’re almost done.”

It’s almost over. His words not only comfort you, but they ring true, as well. The last of it happens, and then a little dry heaving. The hollow ache in your stomach. You flush the toilet and slam the lid shut before Roman can see your mess, then hover over the sink to rinse out your mouth and nose. When you’re done, you try to leave. 

“Hey - no. Don’t get up,” Roman tells you, grabbing you by the shoulders to gently ease you to the ground. He sits you on the plush bath mat and leans you against the wall, “Just stay right there.” 

“Roman,” you whimper, sniffling. God, you feel horrible, and you must look even worse. You’re covered in lingering sweat and tears as well as your own mess from earlier, and your head is heavy and achy. Nose and throat burning like they’ve been rubbed raw. You can’t help but to cry freely, feeling completely at the mercy of your own body. 

Roman doesn’t flinch. Instead, he turns on the bathroom fan and cracks the narrow window open, where the cool, nighttime breeze hits your flushed cheeks and soothes your hot skin. He turns around and opens the door of your bathroom closet, pulls out a couple of wash rags and some other things, you’re not sure what exactly. You’re not paying super close attention.

Roman dampens a rag before approaching you, crouching down to your level. He holds your chin between his thumb and pointer finger as he wipes your face gently, cleaning away the mess and your tears. “What the hell happened to you, huh?” he asks softly, sympathetically. “You’re a fuckin’ mess, kid.” 

“Just don’t feel so good,” you whisper, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Yeah, just don’t feel so good, huh? Are you sick, or what?”

You shrug weakly, lips pouting as you ignore the question. “You should go,” you tell him urgently.

“Oh, I should, should I?” Roman snorts. “Well, that sucks, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.” 

You roll your eyes and smile a little, and it makes Roman smile, too. That’s a good sign. 

“Do I smell like vomit?”

“Oh, god, yeah. Horribly,” Roman deadpans, and his honesty makes you laugh. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, still chuckling. “I’m so gross.” 

Roman pushes a bit of hair out of your eyes, his touch so profoundly tender as he notes how warm your skin is, rubbing your cheek softly with his thumb. “Yeah, you are. Just kinda disgusting, honestly. Ew.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling a little. You pause, then take the rag from his hands and move toward the mess on the floor, but Roman stops you. “Ah, no. I’m taking care of this,” he says, outstretching his arm to keep you against the wall. “Just fuckin��� sit still, will you? Will you do that for me? Jeeeesus,” he exaggerates, laying his sarcasm on thick to ease your insecurity.

Too tired to argue, you raise your palms in surrender - just a slow, weak flick of your wrists. With a soft grunt, Roman stands up then. He goes back to the closet to grab a thermometer and sits back down in front of you, his knees cracking as he bends them.

“You sound old.” 

“Ha-ha. Shut up.” Roman turns the thermometer on and puts it between your lips, wriggling the tip under your tongue. He cups your cheek and you lean into his palm, feeling relief at the way it cools your skin. He rubs your temple and watches your eyes gently close - how utterly exhausted you are. 

Finally, the thermometer beeps. Roman pulls it out of your mouth and grimaces at the big number on the tiny screen. “Oof, yeah. You’re very sick,” he grimaces, then shows you the number. “Gotta get that fever down.”  

Roman turns around and slides the shower door out of the way, drops the drain-stopper and turns on the water. He tests the temperature with his palm, frowning while adjusting it to slightly warmer than lukewarm. As the bath fills, Roman comes close to you again. He carefully helps you out of your soiled clothes, moving your heavy limbs for you. You don’t protest his help. 

He ushers you into the tub, sits you down gently. You rest the back of your head against the cool, ceramic tiles, then turn to watch Roman. He moves around the bathroom with ease, gathering soiled clothes and rags into a hamper, pulling out different cleaning supplies from the closet. “Oh,” he says, then reaches for the trash can next to the toilet. He sets it right next to the tub, “You know. If you need to puke again, or whatever. Hurl into this baby.”  

It’s quiet as you listen to Roman clean the bathroom, save for the occasional squirting of a Clorox bottle and the running water at the sink. You watch him wipe up the mess, and he does so silently. No look of disgust on his face, which surprises you. No shitty jokes or snarky comments. Just Roman, quietly taking care of the task at hand.

“You’re like, surprisingly good at this.”

“Surprisingly good at what?”

“I don’t know. Dealing with all of…this, I guess,” you murmur, gesturing to the mess. “Like, doesn’t it gross you out?”

“Sure,” Roman replies, tossing the dirty rag into the hamper before grabbing a clean one. “I mean, puke’s puke. It’s gross. But I don’t know, it doesn’t really bother me.” 

“Puke doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s not fun, if that’s what you’re asking. But it’s just different when it’s someone you l–” Roman catches himself before he can finish the thought. “I mean, don’t know. It’s just…yeah. I don’t - don’t know what I’m saying. It’s fine,” he mumbles, shaking his head a little. “Don’t worry about me, alright? I’m fuckin’ - I’m fine. You are not. How are you feeling, anyway? Better, worse?” 

You shrug. “Cold,” you tell him. “I’m cold now.”

“Well, that’d be your fever,” Roman says matter-of-factly, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You gaze at him with big, sad, tired eyes, a pout on your lips that tugs at Roman’s heart. You’re so small, so stripped, and he’s carefully holding you in the palms of his hands. It’s not lost on him, the rawness and vulnerability of this moment. The peacefulness. You’ve been sharing more and more of these moments with him, having more good days than bad together. Leaning on him, letting him in. It could always be like this, if you wanted. It’d be a good thing, he thinks. For both of you.

Roman drains the bath and helps you out of the tub, dries you gently with a soft, clean towel. You brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash as he picks out pajamas for you - a large t-shirt and a pair of panties - then dresses you wordlessly and tucks you into bed. You’re gone in two minutes, and Roman bends down to kiss your forehead. “Night, kid.” 

You wake up in the later morning, still feeling off, but not like you’re on the verge of vomiting. Just…a different sort of wrong. You’re sad - Roman’s not in bed with you, but then, why would he be? He’s not - you know, not really supposed to be there. 

You left your phone on the nightstand. The battery’s low, and there’s a couple notifications. Forty-seven minutes ago Roman texted you to text him when you wake up, so you do. 

A few minutes later, Roman gently nudges your door open with his foot. “Morning, sunshine.” His arms are full of different things - a plate with some toast and a banana, a large bottle of Gatorade, a large bottle of water, Tylenol, that same thermometer from last night. He sits on the edge of your bed and places everything on the nightstand, and first takes your temperature. It’s lower than it was last night, but still too high. 

Roman opens the bottle of Tylenol and rattles out two pills, then hands them to you. You place them in your mouth and reach for the Gatorade, but struggle to twist off the orange cap. 

“Oh, come on. Really?” Roman arches a brow and chuckles, taking the bottle from you. “Need a big, strong man to take care of it, huh?” 

Roman twists the small bottle, but the cap fights him too, and his bravado crumples as he strains against it. Scrunching his face a little, gritting his teeth together. It makes you laugh quietly.

“We both do, I think,” you quip. The pills taste bitter in your mouth. 

Roman scoffs. “Okay, no. You got your sweat all over it with your fuckin’ clammy hands, sickie, so fuck off. It was rigged.” He covers the cap with the blanket, then successfully twists it off. “Voíla. Little sips,” he reminds you, handing you back the bottle. Roman keeps you sipping on the Gatorade, insisting that the last thing he needs is you being dehydrated on top of everything else. 

Your tummy growls loudly, eliciting a snort from Roman. He had figured you were hungry, so he came prepared with a light snack. “Here,” he says, handing you the plate with toast. Roman takes care to peel the banana for you, then puts it next to your toast. “Brat diet. Perfect for you.” 

“Brat?”

“Yeah, it’s for spoiled brats like you, sweetheart. No, it’s uh… fuck. Bananas, rice, something with an A…I don’t fuckin’ remember. Or care. And toast,” he adds. “See? Brat diet. It’s just light shit for your delicate little stomach to have when you’re sick.”

You eye the food suspiciously. “What if I don’t keep it down?”

“Gotta try, though, right? Just a couple bites. See how you feel.”

With Roman’s encouragement, you take a small bite of your plain toast, then another. It always feels…odd, just sort of uncomfortable to eat after being sick. But the food is helping, and you can feel how badly your body needed it. 

After eating, Roman has you drink some more water. He takes your plate back to the kitchen as you use the bathroom, wash your face and freshen up a little. Just making yourself feel human again. You get back into bed and Roman comes back, takes your temperature again, and gets into bed with you. He doesn’t have to ask to know that’s what you want.

The curtains are drawn, the light in the room is low, and it looks almost black and white. You lie on Roman’s chest, drawing little patterns into his t-shirt with your fingertips as you listen to the quiet TV. 

“You know something? I should have quarantined you,” Roman mumbles softly, kissing the top of your head a couple of times. 

“Hm?”

“Should have quarantined you. Locked you up, left you to fend for yourself. But I’m the sucker who’s taking care of you, and it’s just occurred to me that I’m gonna be sick after this.”

“Maybe,” you reply quietly. You nuzzle your face into his neck, the wiry hairs of his scruff scratching your skin. Roman tightens his arm around you as you close your eyes. 

“Not maybe. It’s inevitable. Give it a day or two and I’m gonna be puking and shitting everywhere and you’ll have to deal with it,” he says. Roman rubs your back and you feel yourself drifting off, his voice sounds distant. You feel so warm, so safe in his hold. “Little taste of what’s to come when I’m senile, huh?”

“I’m not gonna take care of you.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm,” you sigh. “Gonna put you in a nursing home. One of the abusive ones.”

“Oh, that’s perfect, actually. I’ll have a pretty young thing do my sponge baths. Lift her skirt with my cane,” he jokes, smiling at your humor. “Yeah, lookin’ forward to it, sweetheart.” 

 When you don’t reply, Roman looks down at you. Your eyes are gently shut, lips all plump and pursed as you breathe rhythmically, already gone. “Going back to sleep, kid?”

On autopilot, you hum, and it makes Roman chuckle. “I’ll be here.” 

 Sensations come one at a time, and touch is first - hips are pounding against your ass, and hands on your waist, fingertips bruising you. You feel foggy, but you feel good. The next one is sight - crumpled sheets and fabric close to your face, close enough that you can see all the fibers and threads. But it’s blurry, pulsing in and out of focus. When the hands on your waist slide around your torso - one splayed between your breasts, the other on your stomach - and pull you up and back, you feel the familiar warmth of his torso, hear the broken breaths and noises of pleasure that Roman makes, and you know it’s him.

If you close your eyes, it’s only the feeling of being fucked by Roman. He’s whispering filth in your ear, kissing your neck as he pounds into you. You wrap your hands around his and tilt your head back, relishing in the intensity of it all. His arms clutching you close to him, nearly forcing the breath out of your lungs. You could suffocate like this and so be it, you decide.

But if you open your eyes, you can see it, and you can see it so fucking bv clearly. Like you’re looking in a mirror, or a movie, maybe. You can watch your bodies move from a distance, see the way you writhe and bounce with the way he fucks you. It’s dark, nothing else to look at but you and Roman. You can zoom in too, see his face next to yours. His crooked, smug smirk that you love so much and his dark, lust-blown pupils. 

You’re not sure where or how it begins, but you blink and you’re on your back. Roman’s got you folded in half, relentlessly pounding into your cunt. His neatly trimmed pubic hair grinds into your clit, the friction so deliciously pleasurable. You rock your hips to match his thrusts, moaning his name. God, he’s so utterly, completely fucking gorgeous. The perfect line between his brows. The freckles dotting his nose, freckles that you could count if you wanted to. His dark lashes, reddened cheeks, wet lips.

Roman’s rock hard and a little miserable, but he’s pleasantly amused. There’s a damp spot on his leg from where you’ve soaked him, and he feels the damp warmth radiating from your cunt. You’re gripping his torso with a bruising pressure as you grind yourself against him, whimpering his name, broken by moans. He grips his cock tightly, pressing his thumb over the weeping slit as he watches you dream of him.

He’s filling you with his come then, cock pulsing, painting your insides. It feels so warm and delicious, that lovely sensation of his spend dripping between your thighs. You’re limp as Roman pushes your thighs apart and toward your chest, your swollen, worn pussy on display for him. 

And then he’s eating you, savoring the taste of your combined arousal. The mess you made together. You’re tugging on the graying strands of his hair, tugging on his t-shirt in reality. Grinding your clit against his knee, rocking against that perfect nose of his in your mind.

It’s all shaping up to be the most intense, mind numbingly powerful orgasm you’ve ever felt. It’s a slow build, with the pleasure increasing almost exponentially. 

It’s gone like that - and it’s as elusive in its end as it was in its beginning. You come to, and you’re a little sweaty. Roman’s still underneath you, he’d held you the entire time you slept. How many hours passed? You’re not even sure. It’s still dark in the room, could be mid-afternoon, early evening, you really don’t know. You shift a little, pausing when you feel the fucking pool of arousal between your thighs, dripping through your panties and onto Roman’s leg. 

“Hey, horndog. Had a good dream there?” Roman teases, voice a little gravelly and raspy.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, and you don’t even bother replying to Roman’s taunting, with one thing only on your mind. You just grind against him, running your palm up and down his warm torso, sliding your hand beneath the elastic waistband of his pants. The head of his cock is sticky and wet, throbbing under your touch. “Need you,” you mumble. 

“Need me, huh? Strong word.”

“Yeah.” 

You tug his sweatpants down a little, attempting to free his cock from the confines of the fabric. Roman puts his hand over yours and squeezes, “Mmm,” he hums, pulling your hands away from his body. You’re so weak and so pliant, it’s too easy.

“Please, Roman. I need you to fuck me.” 

Roman looks at you and pouts mockingly at your expression. God, how needy you are. Biting your lip, pupils darting left and right as you silently beg him to make you come. Shamelessly grinding your pussy into his leg. He inhales deeply, then wears a small smile. Roman shakes his head and oh, how he shatters your heart. Your face crumples, and you look like you’re about to cry. “Nope,” he says softly, “I am not going to fuck you, sweetheart. Sorry.” 

“Why?” you ask, voice all sad and broken. 

“Because, you fuckin’ sex addict, you’re gonna get all like, motion sick or whatever and puke on my balls or something. That’s the last thing I need,” he says, rubbing his thumbs over your hands, riding every dip and raise of your knuckles. “It’s just not happening. My condolences.”

You whine loudly, so frustrated with Roman. He’ll jump at any opportunity to fuck you and what, now he won’t? He won’t take advantage of you being all sick and fuzzy-headed? That should be right up his alley, the fucking freak. 

“Hey, I’m a victim here, too,” Roman adds. “Look - look at this, look at what you did–” Roman pulls his cock out and grips the base of his shaft, squeezing as he slides his palm up his length. “You started moaning, ‘Roman this’ and ‘Roman that’ and look, I’m hard as a fuckin’ rock, thanks to you. And I can’t do shit about it,” he grumbles. “Yeah, instead, I have to be the adult here and hold your ass while you infect me with whatever fucking virus you’re riddled with.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Woah,” Roman laughs, a little taken aback. “Fuck me?”

“Fuck you,” you repeat.

“Alright, yeah. Fuck me. You wish,” he goads.

Roman smirks at you, prompting you to glare at him and god, if looks could fucking kill.

“Tell you what,” he says. “What’s the fuckin’....temperature of a human being again? Do you know?”

“It’s 98.6,” you answer. “I think. I’m pretty sure.”

“No, yeah. That sounds right,” Roman says. “So - when you’re back back down to 98.6, I’ll fuck your brains out. Okay? Deal?” Roman holds up a thumb, turns it up and down as he waits for your answer. 

You pull his hand down. “I fucking hate you sometimes,” you mumble, once again grinding on his thigh. 

“Yeah, let me have it,” Roman says, now resting his hand on your back again. He tugs up your shirt and slides his hand down the waistband of your underwear, squeezing the flesh of your ass as you roll your hips against him. “Get it all out of your system.” 

“I mean it,” you say. “I hate you.”

“Yeah? You hate it when Daddy doesn’t give you his cock?” Roman mocks. “Poor thing. You’re so neglected. Abused, even. What am I gonna do with you?”

You roll your eyes, then slowly lift up. Roman watches in amusement to see what you do next - could be anything. Maybe you’ll reach into your nightstand drawer for your vibrator, maybe you’ll keep grinding on his thigh. 

You slide off your panties and take off your shirt which, honestly, Roman thinks is good for you. It’ll help you cool off a little, bring that fever the rest of the way down. You straddle Roman and reach between your bodies for his cock, then line it up with your entrance, the blunt head prodding against your dripping hole. Roman wraps his hand around yours and pulls his cock away before you can sink down on it, and you land flat on his shaft. 

“Daddy,” you whine, dragging out the last syllable. “Please.” 

“Ooh, nice try. Really - good manners, very polite. It’s still not happening, sweetheart.”

You huff and try to wriggle his cock back against your pussy, but Roman won’t let you get very far. He sighs in pleasure as you stroke him, but he stands his ground when you try again to fuck him. 

“You suck.” 

“I know, honey.” 

You sit on Roman’s lap, quietly pouting as you contemplate your situation. Nothing’s stopping you from reaching into the drawer of your nightstand and breaking out that little vibrator. Using it right next to Roman, making him suffer and grapple with the fact that he isn’t the one to bring you pleasure. Or, you could use your own fingers. Whatever pisses him off the most. 

Roman’s dick twitches then, right against your dripping seam and oh, that could work. It’d be a real tease, too. If he wants to fight dirty, then so can you. “Fine,” you say, situating yourself a little better on his lap. His cock is achingly hard and resting against his tummy, you tug his shirt up around his ribs. You slot his length snugly between your lips, clit throbbing against his leaking head. 

You clutch his shirt as you begin rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his length. You love the way that touching him feels like home, how your palms fit against his shoulders. “Fuck,” you whisper, guiding yourself up and down. Your swollen, sensitive clit catching on his tip. You roll your hips in slow circles, sway them side to side. 

“Ohhh, clever,” Roman purrs, smirking at you. Fuck, his gorgeous smile. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sick, there’s still a chance that maybe he won’t catch your stomach bug too. “This is your cheat code, huh? Your little work around to still come on your daddy’s cock?”

“Kinda,” you moan. Roman wraps holds your hips as you fuck yourself against him, holding you tighter when you lean down. You bury your face in his neck, your chest and tummy pressed against his. His slender fingers trail over your spine as he feels you move, your arousal dripping down his cock and down his balls.

“Mmm…you’re naughty, sweetheart. Very, very naughty.” 

“Help me,” you whimper. “Help me come.” 

Roman laughs. “Nope. I’m not enabling this,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against your cheek. “This is aaaallllll you. You are on your own.”  

You whine in complaint, but Roman ignores that. He wonders if you notice how he is in fact helping you a little bit, thrusting his hips a little to match the way you rock yours, guiding you with his hands. His breath is hot against your skin, making it feel a little damp. 

You let out soft noises of pleasure, gripping tight the tensing muscles in Roman’s biceps and shoulders. You love the way his cock feels against you. Feeling the same veins you’ve traced with your tongue and your fingertips now with your cunt, clit pulsing against his gently throbbing length. 

Roman listens to your moans becoming louder, and how they suddenly go quiet. You must be close. “You gonna come?” he whispers, “You gonna come on Daddy? C’mon, baby girl.”

You glide yourself along his length for a couple more moments, rutting against him until you feel your orgasm begin to take over. You moan into his skin as you come, nipping at his neck as Roman coaxes along your release, rocking his hips when you no longer can. You gush on his cock as you come, and there’s no overstimulation, nothing more than him letting you come down from it gently, perfectly satisfied with what he’s given you. You gently flop down next to him, tucking yourself between his arm and his side, already shutting your eyes to drift off again and sleep off the rest of your illness. 

Roman holds his cock, tapping it impatiently against his belly. “Do I have to stay here and keep holding you? Can I go like…jerk off? You kinda left me hangin’ here, you know.” 

“Don’t care,” you murmur, reaching for one of his hands. 

“Yeah, I know you don’t. Whatever. Go back to sleep, you fuckin’...you’re already out. Cool. That’s - that’s nice.” 

Roman rolls his eyes, tucks himself away and rubs your hand with his thumb, absentmindedly spelling out the three little words he’s been itching to tell you. 

-

If you enjoyed, please lmk ♡ i love when you reblog and send me asks. It means the world to me to be able to discuss my fics with you all ♡

romey tags

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson @moth-maam56

@kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink @romanarose

@kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife @thesummerpetrichor

@lilipads @luiscarrutherss @baronessvonglitter @myromeow

@ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @always-andromeda @causesimmer @pedropascalbabygirl

@baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars

@perpetuallymanic @111melo @veryverycoolgirl @marisemonteiroo

@prettybpdgirl @butuhaventseenmyman @/drunkdriverkillerwhale @/fawnjaw

[fanaticsnail]

I Can't Do This Without You

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,900+

Warnings: Pollen!Buggy x f! reader, swearing, smut, mdni, p n v, chase, thrill, fluff, semi-public, mutual pining, has plot - I swear, whimpering, pleading, groaning, use of pet names: baby, sugar, sugarplum, hun, captain, Buggy is a switch.

You groaned as the exhaustion overtook you, lulling your head backwards and releasing a deep sigh from the chasms of your throat. Feeling the fabric of the partially dampened tea-towel grind uncomfortably against your water-swollen fingertips had you release a hiss from your clenched teeth. 

It was your turn to remain awake, plagued by the domestic duties that came with serving alongside the Buggy pirates. Although your allocations were rotational, you loathed being the only pirate awake during the cryptid hours aboard the vessel. Everything was silenced, aside from the rambunctious snores produced in the crew-quarters: roars, snores and heavy-laden breathing calling you to both run to and away from them as your eyelids grew heavy. 

The echo of: “Nobody can do this like you can,” relayed on loop, the soft breath of your captain dancing atop your neck from behind. He knew exactly what his verbal praise did to you, the confident and arrogant asshole that he was. You adored your captain, loved serving him with your peers and sailing the East Blue with him guiding you through the currants and riding through the waves. 

The only issue that you had serving your captain was this one, small, unspoken thing that had him sweetly pouring your name from his painted lips in a sticky-sweet drawl. His molasses-tone purring for you, coaxing you into doing his bidding by just the utterance of your name. It had your knees aching, spine tingling and heartstrings caught in the firm vice of his gloved fist. Perhaps he truly had no idea what he was doing to you. The way the small rasp in his voice pulled against his tonsils, the sweetness in his cadence truly revealed who he was to you alone. 

You shook your head, plunging your hands back into the suds and muck of the dishwater. The texture of undiscarded food scraps brushing your fingertips caused your lips to pull back, revealing your pearled teeth in a disgusted snarl. Savages: the lot of them. A shudder crept up your back as you pulled the plug from the basin and ran the cool water from the tap. You anchored the nozzle of the tap over the basin, aiming for the bile-like gunk stuck to the steel container and coaxing them down the sink. 

Heavy footfalls of buckled boots broke you away from your disgust, alert and ready to meet with whomever tore you from your thoughts. You rinsed your rubber gloves before removing them, casting them aside to the corner of the sink beside the amassment of freshly cleansed dishes, and turned to greet your crewman. You were shocked to see it was not just a simple comrade sneaking in to collect a glass of water, but your captain clad in nothing but his tight leather pants and unbuckled boots. His long blue hair lay carelessly from his head, waterfalling from the crown of his head down his shoulders and tickling his chiseled abdomen. Whispers of the partially curled hair, untamed and unbridled without his striped red and white bandana, stuck to his forehead in stringy clusters. 

“H-Hey, Love,” his voice rasped. His eyes were panicked, wide behind the lengthy blue eyelashes. The small stuttered quiver in his ungloved hands had your brow furrowing into a dip in the middle of your face. Although not unaccustomed to pet-names from him; the tone in his voice held you captive and unwavering. 

“Captain?” you asked after him, watching as your voice caused his head to twitch to the side and eyes clamp tightly shut, “Captain? Are you okay? You look poorly.” You removed your apron and hastily cast it down to the side as you approached him. As quickly as you approached, he stuttered his feet backwards and fisted the doorframe within his firm grip. 

Immediately halting your steps, your heart beat harder within your chest. Panicked. Your Captain was panicked and frantic. He steadied himself, cowering away from your and physically holding himself to the frame as if it was the last thing anchoring him to the earth.

“Captain-?” you began, only for your words to be halted by your captain speaking through gritted teeth. His jaw was clenched so tightly closed, you were afraid he’d break his pearly teeth. 

“-J-Just-....hnngh-... I n-need you to do something-... f-for me,” his voice faltered as the last syllable left his painted lips. His brows furrowed, eyes clamped tightly shut; his blue triangular patterns adorning his cheeks bled into the creases he created with the tightness. Sweat was pooling from his brow, down his temple to his stubbled chin. 

“Captain!” you called after him, prompting him to shake his head from side to side violently to halt you from approaching him further. 

“This was a m-mistake. I c-can’t-... fuck-... I-,” He pulled himself closer to the doorframe; his hips falling flush against the wall from behind. Your eyes searched his closed lids, following the trail of sweat down his chin to the bob of his Adams apple and down the scruff of his tufts of blue chest-hair. 

“Captain,” you spoke in a warning tone. He shook his head from side to side once more, frantic and wild behind his clenched shut eyes. You took a tentative step towards him, his eyes snapping open at the small creak of your foot atop the floorboards. 

“Baby,” he whimpered through a pained groan. His pupils were blown wide and frantic. His saliva drew the red tint away from its designated position against his lips and down his chin. There was something rabid in the air. To what extent, you truly had no idea. 

“What do you need, sir?” Your professional response was to fall back into your ship-savvy training. You stood alert, your hands laced behind your back and awaiting orders from your pirate captain. He winced at your cadence, his voice unleashing a feral groan from his throat. It was deep, desperate and needy - heavy in the growl that laid against its raspy undertone. 

“Baby, I need you to take my head. Take my head, and run.” 

At that final command, he tossed his head at you and you began your sprint towards the upper deck of the Big-Top. You held your captain’s head within the hook of your elbow, cradling him into your chest as your feet picked up a sprint. 

“Where am I going, sir?” you asked him, looking down at the painted clown you had chosen as your captain.

“Away f-from my body,” he winced. You noticed the tone in his voice, picking up his immediate distress and almost halting your steps to go back to collect his torso-.

“-DON’T!” He barked at you. You stiffened, picking up the pace once again as you fled away from the kitchen’s scullery and to the woven ropes beside the top mast. 

Why did he have to collect that substance? Why did he have to find a way to siphon it into his latest ‘Buggy Ball’? Why did he have to spill it over his gloved wrist, immediately inhaling it and sneezing through the chalky pollen?

Because Captain Buggy D Clown was, among all other things, a fucking idiot. 

He cursed at himself, feeling the tightness in the crotch of his leather pants as he braced his body against the doorframe, hoping you had ran far enough away from him to not cage you against the wall and rut into you like an ill-tempered, ill-mannered staffordshire bull terrier. 

It was no secret that he gave you preferential treatment among the crew. He attempted to balance this out by giving you the poor jobs he wouldn’t dream of designating to the others because “nobody does it like you can.” He mentally slapped himself in the face at thinking of that, as he was cradled so protectively against the side of your chest. He wanted you, he wanted you. He wanted you.

But not like this. 

He continued to verbally berate himself as your feet carried you further atop the deck and up the ropes. Your feet looped effortlessly against the woven ladder, hoisting both yourself and him to the crows nest and cowering into the side: hidden and out of sight. The stars illuminated your skin, the rise and fall of your pants holding him in a hypnotic stance as he watched your breasts swell with oxygen. Desire fell from his lips in a feral growl, prompting you to look down and search his face with panic written all over it. 

Even in his afflicted state, he could truly see how desperately you cared for him. The way your hands reached to collect his chin and coax his pollen-blown pupils to meet with your own held him bewitched by your compassion. 

“Captain?” You asked after him, breaking him from his trance momentarily as he panted out incoherent curses and ramblings, “Buggy. You need to tell me what’s going on. How can I fix this? What can I do?”

“You gotta stay away from my body, Hun,” he winced, left eye closing as his right attempted to hold firm to your gaze, “h-he-...f-fuck-... He w-wants-.....hha-ah-... He wants you, Sugar.”

You stay stationary, holding firm and perplexed as your captain continues swearing, cursing and groaning into the wee hours of the morning. You had no idea what had come over him, his affliction pulling at your heart as you watched more sweat produce at his temple. 

“Why do I need to keep away from your body, Captain?” you asked him, placing his head down beside your own and lying down against the floorboards of the crows nest. He panted, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he winced through his next words.

“I fucking told you already, Baby. He wants you.” You cocked your head to the side as you watched your captain huff and suck his bottom lip in and out of his lips. His pants and groans caused caution to tug at your mind as you continued to study him. 

His pained face almost looked as a lover would writhe beneath their other half. Lustful and insatiable being the balance of his growling and pleading expression, his brows knitting together in concentration as he continued to pant like an animal. Surely your captain would not behave as irrationally as a teenager in search of their next crevice to gyrate against. 

Until it dawned on you.

That was exactly what you were dealing with. 

“Captain?” you cautiously asked down at him, “Did you-... D-Did you toy with that flower? The one you said you wouldn’t touch?” After several clenched inhales and exhales, Buggy managed to hiss out a simple word that would change your reaction from concerned to appalled. 

“Yes.”

You immediately began to grumble and chastise the captain, who whimpered away like a puppy caught behaving in a manner undesired by their owners. After a few minutes of berating and chastising, you halted your words as you witnessed the tremble in the bottom lip of your captain. You shook your head and huffed out a simple angry puff of breath. 

“You were warned that it was a powerful aphrodisiac, yes?” you snarled at him, top lip pulling upwards to reveal your canines. 

“Yes,” He managed to hiss out once again. 

“And you chose to fuck with it anyway? Knowing there is no known antidote, yes?” You reprimanded him again, prompting a small winced whimper from your captain as he cried another simple: “Yes.”

You groaned, feeling the frustration and pain of a thousand subordinates taking directions from an idiot captain, and turned on your side, collecting the clown’s whimpering head into your hands and hoisting him over to you. 

“Buggy,” your voice held the reprimanding tone of a superior as you cautioned a warning at your captain, “You are an idiot.”

“I know, Baby,” he managed to wince out through clenched teeth, “b-but I-...hnngh-... I c-couldn’t n-not. It was-... shit–t-... It was right there.”

You sucked in a long and exasperated breath through your nose, filling your chest with the rage of a begrudging superior and began to collect enough rage within you to bring down your frustration onto him-... Only to halt as your eyes met his. 

He was a wreck. His pupils blown, his lips quivering and his teeth chattering behind his whimpering mouth. He was awaiting your beration: dreading it, but prepared for it. He wanted you to be angry with him. He wanted you to be upset that he did something stupid. He wanted you to be-... you. He wanted you.

“Why did you seek me out, Captain?” you asked him while removing your overcoat and placing it to the side. 

“I-I-... I don’t kn-know,” he whimpered, his eyes wide and beginning to brim with desperate tears. 

“Oh? You don’t know?” you asked him, kicking off your boots beneath you and unbuckling your belt, “You didn’t think I’d desire to relieve you of this predicament?” You unbuttoned your blouse, springing forth your breasts into the air and shimmying the cotton material from your shoulders, “You are my Captain.”

“What-... W-What are you doing?” he panted at you. His jaw was slackened, unblinking eyes never once pulling away from you as you continued to undress yourself. You rolled your eyes at him as you continued shimmying yourself from your clothes; presenting your nudity beneath the dusted starlight. Your captain’s blush darkened beneath his painted face, eyes bulging as his jaw began involuntarily salivating. 

“Captain,” you huffed out, rolling back onto your side and meeting his gaze with your reprimanding gaze. Your eyes softened as they met with his, your eyebrows arching upwards at the center and a small smile drew itself to your lips. “You sought me out in the middle of the night,” you smirked, reaching for his cheek but halting before touching him. 

You witnessed his pained and conflicting expression, his grimace straining against his cheeks as his eyes continued to yearn for you. You apprehensively sighed, placing your palm down in front of the clown-captain and bore your eyes into his own. Always encouraging, supporting and cheering for him in your expression.

“I joined your crew to serve you, Buggy,” you confessed to him, “You. You, sir.” You scooted your body closer to him, opting to not make the initial contact with him and holding firm to your position perpendicular to him. He grimaced, wincing in pain but his eyes were full and blown with lust and yearning. 

“D-Don’t, Love,” his tone held the undertones of warning, his teeth pulling back and painfully gritting together in his jaw, “don’t say that. Y-You’re too g-good for the crew-... sssff-... too good f-for me-e.” 

You scoffed at him, inching ever closer to him and almost brushing your nose against his beautiful, rotund circle of a nose.

“I chose to serve you, Captain,” you bore down your intense gaze into his own, “In whatever capacity you deem me worthy.” He groaned, his face involuntarily seeking out your own as you continued your confession, “What is it you always say? Nobody can do this like I can?” 

His jaw fell slack, his eyes completely tint-less as they became eclipsed by desire. The cool teal of his irises were all but lost beneath his gaze. You smiled at him, turning over to lay on your back: eyes looking upwards at the stars as you unleashed a small sigh into the air. 

“What a-are you doing?” he stuttered, slowly inching his decapitated head towards your face. Your eyes held a softness, the smile on your face as hypnotic as the day he first laid eyes on you. 

“Oh, Captain,” you cooed at him, refusing to look at his face as you continued to stare upwards into the cloudless sky, “I’m just waiting for your body to catch up to where your head is.”

Buggy’s thoughts, swirling as the cesspool of a thousand bogs, was rattled by your words. Had he wanted you? Yes. He yearned for you, he pined for you. He had always imagined how beautiful you looked, split over his cock as he inched you downwards to take in his impressive length. He had always imagined you mewling and pleading for him to have you cum against his painted lips, coaxing the eruption of bliss from your core with his tongue as you rode his face. He had fisted his cock in solitude thinking of you, only you, as he spilt himself over his thumb and into a long forgotten sock while he whispered your name as gentle as a prayer between his lips. 

He wanted you. He wanted you so badly. But he wanted you to want him. He didn’t want you to just be his crewman in servitude to their captain. He wanted you to need him exactly as much as he needed you. Even while his senses became overpowered by the aphrodisiac, he wanted you to want him in return. 

“Captain?” your voice called to him, your apprehensive and almost shy tone breaking him from his thoughts. He nodded, knowing you could see him from the corner of your eyes. Even in his afflicted state, he attempted to keep his desperate eyes hyper focussed on your face as he noticed you gulp back a dry mouthful of saliva. “Do-... Do you think you could-... Talk to me a little?” 

“What d-you m-mean, Sugarplum?” he winced, feeling the proximity of his body rapidly approaching towards the two of you in the crows nest. You huffed out your embarrassment, already naked in body beside him but yet to bare your soul.

“Buggy,” you warned him, your eyes now becoming haunted with your own quiet longing and desperation, “You know what your voice does to me, sir. I-... If we’re going to do this, I need you to talk to me.”

He was long gone from the part of feigning innocence to the matter. He was fully aware you were interested in his flirtations: reciprocating them in turn, but always shying away first to his crude and unwithheld shamelessness. 

“You want me-... to get you in the mood? F-For me to… fuck you senseless?” He asked, his brow again releasing a new bead of frustrated and lustful sweat down his temple to his lip. He noticed the visible quiver in your body at the word ‘fuck’, prompting his body to quicken its haste at climbing the ropes from below. His pants were long discarded, his boots pooling at the floor beneath them as he continued to climb as a wild and ferocious beast up the ropes.

“O-Oh,” his whimpered question fled his lips more as a statement, a growl anchoring the end of his expression downwards as he watched your body continue to respond to him. Without warning, his head rocked into your shoulder, placing his lips on every inch of your skin he could find and wiggling his way upwards to trail long and desperate kisses to your jaw and neck. 

“Oh, baby,” he began, licking and kissing at the pulse of your neck, “I have thought of nothing but y-you… -hnghh, fuck-...” he confessed as his feet fell; his cock brushing slightly against the rope and providing the smallest amount of stimuli against the throbbing shaft, “I-I wanted you, hun. I wanted you s-so badly. I wanted t-to know what you looked like caged in my arms as I fucked you beneath me-,” his feet began to pick up the pace, sprinting up the ropes to draw his throbbing closer to you. 

“Hun, I don’t th-think you’re aware of how much I want you,” He licked a long stripe up your collar bone, his teeth grazing your skin as he whimpered against you, “baby, I-I-... I c-couldn’t-...” His words halted in his throat, truly not desiring to release his confession into the air for fear of never reclaiming the words back.

“What, Cap?” you gasped, finally turning to him with your eyes half-lidded and glazed with lust, “what couldn’t you do? Tell me. Tell me, please?” He growled, launching his decapitated head towards you and placing trails of creeping open-mouthed kisses against your cheek, nose and jaw - never claiming your lips beneath his for fear of breaking the spell and having you sprint from him. 

“I-I-...” he whined, feeling his feet beginning to tingle in his approach. He was so close to you, so close to your glistening opening: ready and waiting for him to dive into your supple flesh and chase his release, “-I only think of you. I-I-... I can’t-... I can’t cum without thinking of you. I need you. I only think of you, the way you’d fuck. Baby, the way you’d taste.” 

You gasped, finally claiming his cheek within your palm and watching the tearful expression of the clown within your hands and chasing his fleeting gaze with your eyes. 

“Captain?” you cooed down at him, desperately trying to conceal your enthusiasm and excitement with your tone, “Captain, do-... do you picture me? When you touch yourself? When you-... when you masterbate?” Before the clown could halt his pathetic words from falling from his lips, his mind began to spiral as he continued his unholy confession.

“Baby, I-I tried to cum s-so badly without you. I was right there. I even found your old wanted poster and thought of making you scream as I stretched you out. I-I tried to cum while thinking of you. I kept chasing it, hun. I-I-... I can’t do it without you. I was right there twelve times before I went to find you in the kitchens. I t-tried. It’s-... I can’t do this without you,” he desperately cried, his eyes open and honest as he spilt nothing but truths from his lips. Your heart broke for him, and the shame of his confession began to glisten your aching entrance and swollen clit with his pathetic whines and calls for you. 

At that, you felt the dangerous presence of his body begging to be reunified. The thrill held you quivering in anticipation, desperate to help your captain in whichever manner he deemed appropriate to chase his relief. You closed your eyes tightly shut, feeling his body fall downwards onto you and cage you beneath it. 

“Baby, s-say something,” Buggy’s voice whispered at your jaw, his lips collecting the skin beneath it, “I-I can’t control myself f-for much longer. Baby I n-need to know this is o-okay.” His plea had your eyes snap open, meeting his teal gaze as he desperately sought out your own. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, feeling the inches of heat grazing against your thigh in his shaft’s approach towards your shamefully aroused entrance. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered into you. You felt the graze of his swollen tip prodding against your oozing entrance, flicking its shined tip against your clit as he rejoined his head firmly atop his shoulders, “I never wanted it to be like this.” He reached down, grasping his abused shaft and almost screaming as he did. His senses were overwhelmed, so desperate for stimuli but conflicted because he wanted so desperately to be good for you. 

“It’s okay, Captain,” you reassured him, turning away from his face to shy from his feral expression. You held your eyes closed in shame at how truly intoxicated this made you. You were both blessing the horrible pollen for having him finally make a move, while guilty at the fact that this was the only reason you were feeling his knob rake slowly between your silken abdominal lips. 

“L-Look at me,” he whispered down at you, “p-please, baby. Please look at me.” As you slowly turned to face him, he achingly withheld the urge to slam his cock fully within your entrance and pushing to the hilt of his shaft in one swift movement. He was physically shaking with the inability to control himself further than allowing this one moment to pass between you. 

As your eyes slowly and coyly met, he glanced deep and unblinkingly into your eyes as he slowly inched the tip of his cock into you. You watched that subtle quiver in his eyes; the way his lip trembled at the friction as his leaking tip arched its way beyond the first point of contact. He muffled a scream, finally feeling relief at the contact of your walls sucking his cock within them. He fought back another urge to break away his eye contact and have his eyes roll back into his skull in bliss of the feeling - opting to continue staring deeply into your eyes as he slicked another few inches within your walls. 

Your breath hitched, staring deeply into his eyes as your lips parted at how truly beautiful you found him. He clenched his teeth together, angling his hips forward and slowly pressing down into you while wincing back his pleasured cries of bliss. He wanted so desperately for this to feel as good for you as it did for him, but the way the pollen enhanced his every sense had his limbs on fire. As he inched his cock down to the base of his shaft, he sucked his cheeks into his teeth alongside his tongue and bit down exceptionally hard to keep his cum from spilling over immediately. 

As you became accustomed to his width, you couldn’t help but sigh out a small mewl of pleasure at being filled by your captain into his ear. At that small hitched pitch of your voice, he began to rock his entire length within you as he groaned out a desperate cry of satisfaction. 

Don’t you dare cum, you idiot. You’ve finally got what you wanted. You wanted this. Don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t you dare cum-.

“-You c-can cum, Captain,” you whispered into his ear, placing a small kiss on the corner of his jaw, “You’ve waited so long, Bugs. I’m so proud of you. You can cum, baby. Cum for me.”

His breath hitched in his throat, his cock immediately responding to your guidance by snapping the tension within his stomach. His balls were pressed so tightly within his abdomen, almost swallowed within his stomach by how tight and desperate everything became. At that small whisper of praise from you, his orgasm crashed over him like a bolt of calculated lightning seeking him out as a conductor to direct the currant. Ribbons and ropes of hot and desperate strings of sticky cum shot from his tip to coat your walls with their lustful lubrication. 

“O-Oh fuck. Fuck! F-FucK!-.. Nghh-... I’m cumming. I-I’m cumming! F-Fuck, baby. I-I’m-.. Hhah-...” He cried into your shoulder, his lips and teeth collecting your neck beneath his mouth and clenching down onto your flesh. You hissed at the contact, feeling the waves of pleasure he was experiencing coat your walls as you soothed over his shoulders with a gentle, but firm touch. 

His slow thrusts came to a halt, completely sheathed within you as he rode through his high. The collection of arousal pooling at your thighs and coated his groin was surprising to the both of you at the culmination of the fluids. As his eyes drew downwards to the contact between your bodies, he gasped at how beautifully your body had taken him in. He was in awe that you would allow him to join with your body in this way, but guilty in the fact that he was the only one to claim pleasure from this encounter.

He quirked his head to the side, remaining fully sheathed within you and began rocking his hips a little. You gasped, feeling his lingering firmness within your core and brush with the underlayer of your clit while the top brushed with his pubic hair. He laughed with an almost sickening amount of glee.

“Would you look at that?” He managed to stutter out between the snapping of hips. He leant down towards you, hovering his lips just above your own, “I’m still hard.” He hummed thoughtfully, looking first to where your bodies were connected before darting his eyes back up to yours. 

Looking up at him with partially shocked eyes, you felt the lubrication of his prior release grinding against his cock sheathed within your core. His soft and deep gyrations had an involuntary cry fall from your parted lips at the friction. Buggy’s eyes smiled as his lips broke into a crooked smile.

“Ohh,” he cooed down at you, “Ooh, you thought we were done, didn’t you?” He reached down to collect your thighs, hooking them over his hips and joining them at the ankles, “oh, sweetheart. You thought you could get away with ordering your captain to cum in you without consequence?” 

He shifted his cock deeper within you, raking his hands at your thighs upwards to collect your ass beneath his wide fingers. You bit your bottom lip to halt a sound from leaving your lips, prompting Buggy’s teal eyes to look down at you and frown. He snapped his hips harder against you, slow and deliberate thrusts dragging at your walls with his cock and prying another muffled moan of desire from you. 

He frowned further, drawing his face closer into you and almost brushing his lips with yours. 

“Don’t you dare stop those pretty sounds from comin’ out,” he commanded you, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with desire. His throbbing cock was twitching within your fluttering walls, his groans of pleasure serenading you with his raspy tone gracing your ears, “Oh, Baby. Let me hear you. C’mon, now.” 

You screamed at your eyes to remain fixed on the man above you; his own half-lidded expression being mirrored in your irises as your lips almost brushed. He continued slowly anchoring his hips in and out of your glistening entrance with your walls fluttering around him. You gasped as he wove his arms beneath you and hoisted you upwards. He rocked back to sit atop his calves, pulling you with him to sit atop his lap and braced himself fully flush with you. 

With his arms hooked beneath you, he found the backs of your shoulders and braced you against his torso, breaking away his eye contact as his lips sucked on your neck. He gyrated his hips up into you, keeping you completely still and caged atop his lap as he rocked you. The new angle had your jaw slack and gasping silent cries and mewls of pleasure down into his ear. 

“You were so chatty, baby,” he grunted against your neck, trailing his lips against your neck to your jaw, “Where did that go, huh?”

At that final taunt, you wove your hands into the back of his scalp and forced his neck back to look up at you. He gasped out a sighed groan, jaw clenching at your manhandling of his sensitive body. Grinning up at you with a grimaced lop-sided smile, he again taunted you: “Too embarrassed by me? Don’t want to have the infamous Clown-Captain make you cum?”

He picked up the pace, almost disregarding your hands within his hair as his thrusts became more desperate and unbridled. His playful eyes never broke away from your face, only leaving to glace at your breasts bouncing at eye level and shamelessly ogling them before finding your eyes once more. His hips began to stutter more, almost rhythmically in tune with your body as he felt your walls suck him in with their flutters. 

“Not embarrassed, Cap,” you managed to gasp out, grinding down onto his cock. He squirmed beneath you, matching your circling and gyrating rhythm as he bucked up into you. “I’m just enjoying your voice.” You tugged back his hair tighter, his lips releasing a hissed sigh as you brought  your lips down to suck on his neck. He continued rolling his hips upwards, allowing you to chase your release by circling and gyrating against him. 

“P-Please,” He called in a voice above a whisper, “Please cum on my cock. I need you to cum on my cock, baby. I want you to use me like a toy. Your toy.” You whimpered against his neck, feeling the tightness in your abdomen increase to the center of your stomach. Your walls fluttered around his cock as he continued rocking you atop his lap. 

“No,” He shook his head out of your grasp and bore his teal eyes into your own. He uncircled his arms from beneath your shoulders to his right wrapping around your stomach while the other cradled your jaw, “No I want to see it. I want to see you cum. I want to see the lights dance in your eyes as I rock you on my lap. I want to see your pleasure as you chase it, sliding your slick cunt over my cock. Please, please baby. Please cum for me.”

As his eyes locked on yours, you felt the twirl within the pit of your stomach finally release the band of pleasure within you. Every inch of your body burst with the tingles of your orgasm: the tips of your toes shivering within the vibrations of warmth and static up to your legs, thighs, abdomen, torso, neck and face. You were suffocated by the cry you released of his name pouring from your lips as you raked your hips over his lap, whimpering and moaning for him as you rode your high into blissful overstimulation. 

Buggy had no idea when he began cumming, but he could feel you sucking every inch of his second release deep within you by the sturdy thumps of your glistening walls squeezing each drop from his quivering shaft. He cried for you, the sting of overstimulation balanced with ensuring you had truly finished allowing the waves of bliss to wash over you. He felt tethered to you, the only thing anchoring him down to this world as he serenaded your praises with the angels. 

He released your jaw, circling his hand to the back of your head and pulling you down to touch your forehead with his. Your movements stilled, the only sounds resonating were the crashes of waves against the hull and the distant roars, snores and heavy-laden breathing of your crew sleeping and remaining blissfully unaware of what just occurred within the crows nest. Sighs and breaths between you passed as you greeted one another with warm, coy smiles. 

“Did you learn your lesson, Captain?” you asked him with a small, sleepy giggle. 

“I think so, Hun,” he replied with the same tone, the creases of his eyes holding both his charm and his playfulness within it, “‘You’ll always look after me when I do something stupid’ was the lesson, right?” You pursed your lips at him, no longer having the energy to fight with him and opting to place a small chaste kiss atop his round nose. He winced at the caress, but opted not to pull away once he saw your sleep-deprived expression. 

“I’m just playing, Love,” he sighed into your face, still ghosting his lips over your own without fully committing to the kiss. 

“I know, Cap,” you mumbled sleepily, pressing a soft and deep caress of your lips against his. He groaned against your lips as they finally met, holding firm against you as you angled your head to deepen the kiss. Breaking the dance of your lips intertwining, you leant back and smiled warmly at him, “But I will always look after you when you do something stupid.”

“Oh good,” he sighed in relief, a broad and brilliant smile drawing itself against his lips as he hardened his resolve, “Because all I've learnt is nobody can do this like you can.”

[criswritessometimes]

hickey blurbs - (1/3) - schlatt

contents - hickeys, suggestive themes (no actual sex just like grinding), chuckle sandwich (rip babygirl), gn reader, no use of (y/n)

ted charlie

author note // hi! enjoy the first post and i hope you stick around to read any other sick thoughts i have about men in my head :).

it was a lazy day with your boyfriend schlatt, the both of you sitting on the couch all day as you traded off from watching some tv, to other shows, and gaming and rinsing and repeating. this was a rare event since you had a work-from-home day, and schlatt didn’t have to record anything for the day. you slowly wormed your way into sitting on his lap throughout the day. your legs were thrown over one of his, and your back was against his other leg, so you were sitting perpendicular to him and, well, on him. plates sat in front of both of you on the coffee table from dinner, with his beer and your glass of wine on either side. one last email and you promised you would be his for the rest of the night. you finish typing as you ask, “ok how does this sound,” you pause, “carrie, as discussed previously, attached is the reported earning from the last three quarters aand how it affected gross revenue for the year of 2024, growth in the company, as well as total earnings in the company. i will be back in the office tomorrow morning at 8 am to answer anyother questions you may have. have a great rest of your night.” you look up at him to gage his reaction, “isn’t this the like third email you’ve sent to her about this shit?” he asks, moving to grab his beer. “yeah, i don’t know what she doesn’t understand about it.” you look back at your laptop, “but does it sound good?” “i’d send it.” he takes a sip of his beer. you send the email and shut your laptop, reaching over the coffee table to set it down. 

you let out a big stretch which schlatt comments on, “ooo big stretch babe, giving jambo completion.” he chuckles as he places a hand on your thigh and rubs back and forth with this thumb. you finish stretching and lay across him for a moment, collecting your thoughts and enjoying his touch on your thigh. you feel his hand come higher and higher until it reaches your hip squeezing it to let you know his intentions. you look over at him with your eyebrows raised, “yeah?” “you’ve been glued to your laptop all day toots. i need you.” he just about begs. you fake a pout and begin to sit up to move to sit on his lap, “oh poor baby needs me because i had to work all day.” schlatt's hands reach for your sides as you settle into his lap. “can’t even wait, needs to have me right here on the couch, right honey?” you tease. “yeah, kinda.” his voice softens as he looks away from your gaze as he moves his hips away from your core as to not turn himself on anymore. your hand comes under his chin to force him to look at you as you start to grind on his lap, feeling his dick harden. you lean in and meet his lips in a searing kiss as his hands start to lose their grip as he starts to go into a state of bliss. “good jay?” you pull away and kiss under his ear, moving to his neck. “so good baby.” he whimpers out. 

your hips stop moving as you start to kiss his neck; you can sense he’s about to start complaining about it, so you start to suck hickeys onto his neck, stopping his complaints with moans. “wanna make you feel good jay.” you say into his skin, kissing and sucking more leaving dark marks. his hands start to work their way under your shirt, and you feel them on your back, griping and squeezing whatever he can. his neck is a mess at his point; some marks are so purple you’re scared that you accidentally broke the skin. you pull back from him, and your fingers trace the marks around his neck. “i think i might’ve been a little too rough with you, i’m sorry jay.” you lean into his neck to gently kiss the marks as an apology to his neck more than to him. his hand rubs up and down your back, “it’s ok toots, as long as you think they look good.” he smiles as he leans to kiss you on his lips. your hands move up to his hair, and you tangle your fingers in his locks and start to move the both of you so he can lay down with you on top of him. 

as you’re about to start to lay down, schlatts phone starts going off. 

you pull away from him and look over at the phone, then back at him. “it’s probably nothin’,” he states. you start kissing him again, and jay’s fingers find the shirt hem and start to pull it up, wanting it off. 

his phone goes off again. 

as your shirt comes off, you glance over to his phone. “umm, babe, it’s ted.” you pick the phone up, showing schlatt the stupid contact photo he had for ted. he sighs, knowing he probably forgot something ted needed. schlatt starts to sit up, and you hand the phone to him and shimmy off his lap sitting next to him. he answers the phone and puts it on speaker phone, “ello?” he asks, his accent coming back to him. “dude where the hell are you? we’re supposed to record for the podcast tonight.” ted asks over the phone. schlatt throws his head back as his hand rubs over his face. “nah you’re right i totally forgot. i’ll be on as soon as i can.” he hangs up. schlatt kisses you one last time as an apology for the sudden stop, “i’ll see you in hour ok? i wanna pick up where we stopped.” you nod and smile.  he had mentioned this was the last day to record it for the week, so they couldn’t push it another day. he stands from the sofa and makes his way into his office. you put your shirt back on and clean up from dinner. 

you can overhear the start of the conversation between schlatt, ted, and tucker when schlatt turns his computer on. “hey guys, sorry i’m late.” he was still turning his camera on and plugging his headphones in because the next thing you hear is ted, basically screaming, “jesus christ! what the fuc-” you chuckle to yourself as even schlatt hadn't seen his neck until he turned his camera on. “baby!” you hear schlatt call for you from his office, you already knew what he needed and grab the hoodie on the sofa. once you walk in, his eyes greet you, and he has that shit-eating grin on his face. you hand him the hoodie, and he trades you his headphones; you give him a questioning look. “put them on toots, ted has some words for you.” you put the headphones on and get closer to the mic. “hi ted, hi tucker.” you greet him with a sweet smile. “hi yeah, do you know what happened to schlatt’s neck?” ted asks cutting to the chase immediately. you look back at him; he’s scooted closer since the hoodie is on, so the viewers won’t be asking a bunch of questions. you look back at ted, “dunno, probably like a vampire or something.”

[sturnihoelo]

Shower/C.S

summary: you and the boys are watching a movie, you cut the night short to get ready for bed and chris is extra needy tonight.

‼️: smut, use of y/n, slight choking, shower sex, dom!chris, masc!receiving, creampie

—————————————————

10pm

its movie night. its matt’s turn to pick the movie tonight and of course he chooses something scary. “we’re not watching this matt” nick says in an annoyed tone. “yeah matt im not tryna have a nightmare” chris says jokingly. “shut up big baby” matt taunts. we all get situated on the couch and chris purposefully sat across from me, just so he can stare at me thinking that i wouldnt notice.

20 minutes into the movie and im already tired. “i think im gonna get ready for bed. goodnight” i say while getting up. “goodnight y/n.” nick smiles and waves. “night.” matt says quickly, too focused into the movie. chris does nothing but stare at you the whole way downstairs. soon after chris says “yeah i think im gonna go too. night guys”.

i turn on the water in chris’ shower and wait for it to warm up. when i start to undress i hear footsteps approaching so i close the bathroom door and hop into the shower. as im doing my normal shower routine i hear chris’ door open. i think nothing of it and continue to rinse off. it wasnt until i started washing my body i notice the bathroom door is cracked open. “its probably just the airflow” i think to myself trying to brush it off.

with my head facing away from the door, chris comes in and is now fully observing me wash myself. “chris what are you doing in here!?” i say startled. he answers by taking off his clothes and coming into the shower with me. “i couldnt help but keep my eyes on you y/n” “you just looked so sexy sitting there.” he comes closer and starts rubbing his hands all over my body. “chris.” i say breathy. “what mama?” chris says before leaning into me and kissing me. “chris!” i struggle to say while our lips are stuck together. he pulls away. “what y/n? you want me to fuck you?” he says completely full of lust. “you want to?” i tease. “more than anything.” he says while picking me up by my thighs and inserting his needy cock into me. “oooouh fuck chris” i hiss between my teeth while he starts to thrust into me. “can you take me ma?” he says while giving me eyes drunk off my pussy. i cant form a full sentence from the uncontrollable moans escaping out of my mouth. “i asked you a question.” chis says in an aggressive tone, moving his hand to my throat. “fuck! yes chris!” i shout while he pounds harder into me.

“fuck im gonna cum” he says while moaning, slamming harder into my heat. he pushes me down to my knees and releases all over my face. water trickling down from the faucet sprinkles on my face as his cum shoots out from his throbbing cock. he joins me on the floor of the shower and holds me while kissing me all over.

“i wanna do that more often.” he says out of breath. “maybe we can” i say while going in for another kiss.

some time passes and we’re cuddling in his bed. he turns on a movie for background noise, turning up the volume louder than normal. “what are you doing?” i ask him. clearly knowing what he was up to. he pulls me onto his lap and puts his hands into my pants. he proceeds to pull me towards him and begins to leave purple marks all over me. i can feel his dick get harder through his pants and i start grinding on him. chris moans slightly but tries to play it off. i start grinding harder, at this point he is so hard that precum is leaking onto his pajamas.

i scoot myself back and begin to play with his hard on. chris moans slightly as i tug at his pants and start to pull them down, kissing on him ever so gently. eagerly, chris pulls his underwear down, exposing his throbbing cock. i kiss on his area gently before licking from base to tip. i wrap my lips around his length and chris helps me bob my head up and down. “such a needy little slut. you just cant get enough of me huh?” chris taunts. “get on all fours for me mama, i want to fuck the shit out of you.” i do as he demands and chris rams his length into me, giving me no time to adjust to his size.

*slap* chris smacks my ass as a way to shut me up, but my moans keep getting louder. “do you want them to hear how much of a slut you are?” chris says while putting his hand over my mouth. my muffled moans do nothing but worsen the situation. *smack* “do you want them to hear you y/n.” “no daddy” i say quietly while he thrusts harder into me. “shit.” without warning, chris unexpectedly cums and fills you up. pulling out, watching his cum drip out of my pussy. “fuck. i just love it when you call me daddy.” “ill help you get cleaned up princess. do you want to go in the shower?”

[umathurwin]

you know i love the thrill of the rush

jj maybank x f!reader; nsfw 18+

Summary: There’s a serial killer lurking around the island, and even though they’ve been sticking to Kook targets, you really wish your best friend would stop acting so strange. Is he on drugs… or selling them?

tags, warnings, and more on ao3!

“You’re wearing sunscreen, right?” JJ called from the back of the boat, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Yes. Mother.”

She kept her eyes squeezed shut but she knew he was glowering at her. “Well damn, my bad for not wanting you to get melanoma.”

The boat swayed under her, but as long as she wasn’t reading or wasted, it was quite relaxing. She’d jumped at the chance when JJ offered to take her out on the old dinghy to catch some rays while he did a little fishing.

She lay on the flat stretch on the front of the boat, towel under her to protect her from the wet fiberglass surface. The bikini she’d ordered online ended up having far less coverage than she’d expected—ideal for sunning and wearing around JJ’s sneaky gaze. It wasn’t too hot now that summer had eased off, his tunes had perfectly set the tone for their afternoon, and she was about to lull off to sleep.

Until a putrid smell hit her nose, and she curled up in disgust without trying. “Oh my God, JJ, what the hell are you using for bait?”

“Chitlins,” he announced gleefully, dipping the bucket into the water on the other side of the vessel to rinse the slime out.

She retched. “Smells a little too–” ack! “–fermented to be pig guts. Are you sure they’re not rotten?”

“No, I am not,” he admitted, reaching behind him for the pole and grinning when fish began swarming under the boat. “But if it works, it works.”

Unfortunately proving him right, the lure hadn’t been wet for five minutes before he was pulling in a gorgeous red drum. Small enough for JJ to easily wrangle onto the boat, thwack on the back of the head, and toss in the cooler. “Text Pope and tell him to rev up the deep fryer,” he announced proudly.

Y/N shivered, combing her hair back to tie it up out of her face. “Fine, but I’m complaining about the nightmare I went through to get it.”

“No problem,” he said. JJ reached in the boats seat storage, pushed aside a set of dark, crumpled clothes, and removed a roll of black canvas. He splayed it out on the vessel’s bench, revealing a row of blades, ranging from baby paring knives to needle-like filleters to thick cleavers.

She peered over the metal, coated in innards and blood stains galore. “Cool carrying pouch. Looks pretty handy.”

JJ’s head snapped over. “Did someone say ‘handy’?” he asked excitedly, and she demonstrated an aggressive, squeezing, pepper-grinding motion. “That’s traumatizing. Hey, dude, I totally forgot to clean these from last time. D’you mind washing these off with the Dawn in the glovebox?”

“How am I supposed to rinse them?”

Blink blink. JJ dramatically looked left and right outside the boat. “Surely that’s a joke.”

“The chum water?!”

He scoffed, rolling up the pouch again. “Fine. We can wait until we get back to the dock and use the hose there.” Then, after she turned back, “You’d never survive a trip with John B and I.”

“I’m not sure I’d want to!”

***

Y/N pushed open JJ’s front door without knocking. He wasn’t the type to lounge in the nude or masturbate outside of the bedroom, so she’d gotten used to barging in without any heads-up.

She toed her shoes off to the side and ambled to the kitchen. One hand pulled open the fridge and the other tugged her hair out of its knot atop her head. God, he needs to restock on beer, she thought, opting for a soda instead. The ticking clock on the wall caught her ear just as it passed 4:30. Her fingers drummed on the counter.

After knowing him so long, Y/N was more than comfortable hanging out at JJ’s house alone. She doesn’t intend to; if he’s out, she’s usually with him, and if he’s not, he’s sound asleep in his bed.

But that hasn’t been the case, as of the last few months.

Sometimes, like today, she’ll arrive at an empty place and have to make herself at home. More often, though, he was already there and randomly sprang up with a lame excuse to leave.

“Hey, I’ve gotta go run somewhere. I’ll be right back.”

Short, simple, and used a lot. It wasn’t exactly random, nor frequent, but always unexpected to her. They’d be watching TV together or eating a late-night snack and he’d get really antsy. Before she could ask if he was alright, he’d slip out and come back an hour or so later. JJ is a free man, he can come and go as he pleases, but she still side-eyed him peeling out of the driveway and wondered where he had to be so suddenly.

Y/N flopped on the couch, turning on the TV and setting it to Criminal Minds. Something post-Elle, pre-Ashley. He must’ve been out for ages, because the reruns had her in a deep sleep long before he returned to the house.

The front door opened, the wood crackling in the frame. The stomping noises that followed drew her out of the nap. Her first, panicked thought was that Luke was making a surprise visit before remembering the old bastard had disappeared to fuck-all Atlantic City months ago. It was just JJ.

She sat up on the couch, rubbing at her eyes to force the sleep out of them. “Hey, bud, ‘bout time you came back.”

When she adjusted to the light and finally got a good look at her best friend, she was left with more questions than answers. He stood dumbfounded at the door, like it wasn’t perfectly common for her to be at his house without him. What was even weirder than his demeanor, though, was his entirely-black outfit. From his long-sleeve shirt, to his jeans, to his lace-up boots. Was he carrying gloves?

“Bro, what is that get-up?” she asked, looking up and down at the clothes. He looked good, it seemed to give him a couple inches in height, but definitely wasn’t his normal look. “It’s stylish, can’t lie.”

He stared down at himself. “More subtle at night. You know how I hate attention.”

… Right. JJ carefully pulled the shirt off by the back of the neck and started shamelessly unbuckling his pants. “Can you do me a favor?” he asked, awkwardly sidestepping to the closet with his washer-dryer and dumping the clothes in the unit. “D’you mind getting me some, eh, brighter clothes out of my dresser?”

She nodded, skipping back to his bedroom as he continued awkwardly undressing. Any excuse to be nosy in his belongings.

The top drawer of his dresser had his undergarments, she remembered, but did he want any? She held the white t-shirt and basketball shorts in her hand, eyeing the drawer curiously before pulling it open. Wouldn’t hurt to grab a sock.

She found socks, alright. Along with hefty Ziplocs stuffed with white, flat pills, rocky snow-colored powder tightly wrapped in plastic, not to mention profuse amounts of marijuana in textured, vacuum-sealed bags.

Her jaw was on the floor. Hey, JJ liked to party, that she was well aware. But a lot of this stuff was out of both their wheelhouses, especially in this quantity. This was… this was the stuff Kooks did.

And that’s when it hit her. JJ’s a fucking plug! Duh, that’s where he was always going at random times—probably where he just got back from. Also why he started wearing inconspicuous clothing and why there’s about $5,000 worth of narcotics at her fingertips. She pushed the drawer shut without fetching any socks.

When she returned to the living room, he stood in his boxers, face softly illuminated by the nic between his lips.

“You look pale,” JJ noted around wisps of smoke. “Did you see the Victorian ghost in my room, too?”

“You’re funny,” Y/N stammered, pushing the new change of clothes into his arms and trying not to check his bare body out too much.

When she backed away from him like a rabid animal, he laughed. “No. Seriously. What sex toy of mine did you find in there?”

“JJ, I know what’s going on,” she spat out. How could he keep this from her?

His brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Bro, I saw the drugs. I know you’re a dealer. Clearly with a clientele outside our tax bracket.”

The only sound between them was that stupid washing machine churning around his black clothes. JJ rotated through a few expressions (mostly confusion) before exhaling through his nose and grinning. “Guess you’d find out eventually,” he confessed sheepishly, eyes blinking up at the ceiling.

“Seriously,” she smiled back. “Why didn’t you just tell me? We’ve been smoking for years. You think I’m gonna judge you?”

“Nah, nah, just figured you’d turn me into the IRS for not declaring the income,” he joked, stepping forward to stick his fingers into her sides until she wriggled away. “Now, go pick something for us to watch while I go commando over here.”

“Gross!”

***

Good Lord, what has she walked in on?

Y/N dropped her backpack on the counter, untangling her keys from her fingers and taking in the view. JJ stood redhanded at the sink– literally, he was carefully holding one of his favorite t-shirts, a scarlet souvenir from their sophomore year homecoming game. The teal rubber gloves on his hands weren’t even the most bemusing part, no, that was the domed mask he wore in the comfort of his own kitchen.

“Question one,” she began, eyes flicking back up to his covered face. “Since when do you own dish gloves and N-95s?”

He scowled before realizing the stiff covering was taking the effect away and tugged it down over his chin. “Is it so hard to believe I clean sometimes?”

“Last week you wanted me to wash your Dexter Morgan cutlery with chummy water,” she said pointedly.

“Boat rules.”

“I’ve seen you make scrambled eggs in a dirty pan, and then eat them right from said dirty pan.” He had no retort. “What’re you doing, anyways?”

He bashfully looked back down to the shirt. “Got a little bit of a bloody nose last night,” he admitted, displaying the shirt and its tragic rusty splatters. It was pretty gruesome, but not shocking— she’s seen his face turn into a leaky faucet after a fight back in high school. If only blood actually dried red.

“And the PPE is for these dangerous chemicals I’m handling, obviously.”

The sole bottle on the counter caught her eye. “I wouldn’t use hydrogen peroxide on this. I don’t think it’s colorfast and it may bleach it. Do you have vinegar? You can scrub it with that, and if that doesn’t fully get it out, you can soak it for half an hour before washing it.”

He blinked and pulled the mask off his ears entirely. “Colorfast? What?”

Y/N lifted the soiled shirt and showed it to him. “The dye will bleed. Happens when it’s not high quality. Again, vinegar?”

“Uh, yeah,” JJ shook his head and reached under the sink for the dusty bottle of white vinegar. “How do you know it’s not good dye?”

“Because every white shirt you own is slightly pink, moron.”

***

JJ pulled open the door to the gas station, allowing Y/N to enter by ducking under his arm. The crisp air inside relieved their bodies of the humidity thickly swallowing the world. Goosebumps erupted down her arms and she rolled her shoulders back to shrug them away.

The cashier spoke loudly on the phone, entirely disregarding the two. JJ squinted at her; they’d gone to school with her way back when. Cass, or something. Her father owned the gas station and made her work some grueling ten hours a week, and she repaid him kindly by selling her underage Kook friends any vape they so desperately coveted.

He accidentally locked eyes with the cashier and pulled his sunglasses down over his face. Y/N returned from the fridge carrying an Arizona tea held tightly to her neck. “You look like a douche,” she said, lip curled in annoyance.

“I’m hungover.”

“You weren’t hungover outside. Just say you wanna look like a douche.” She perused over the candy options. “What are you getting? I’m thinking something fruity.”

“You’re always thinking about something fruity.”

“That’s homophobic.”

“How can I be homophobic? My bi–” JJ started, before Cass cut the both of them off.

“Do y’all mind? I’m on the phone,” she snapped, holding her palm over the speaker of her iPhone. “Sorry about that, girl…”

“Cunt,” Y/N whispered, grabbing a bag of watermelon Sour Patch.

The duo dropped their snacks on the counter, and Cass groaned. “Hang on,” she sighed dramatically to her phone, setting the device on the register. She lazily scanned the items, a couple drinks and some bags of candy. “That’ll be $19.55.”

JJ reeled, eyebrows shooting up from behind his aviators. “My ass. You scan everything twice?”

“No,” she said nastily. “If you can’t afford it, that’s not my fault.” The phone erupted in soft giggles, and Cass smirked as she picked it up and tucked it in her back pocket.

Y/N could tell he was itching to draw this out, and made pleading eye contact with him. He rubbed his nose with his thumb, reaching over to the multicolored row of Bics until he landed on a yellow one and wriggled it out of the display. He dropped it on the pile. “That, too.”

She rolled her eyes, scanning the lighter and reading out the new price, also doctored by some poverty tax she’d created on the spot. He paid, tucked his new purchase into his pocket, and grabbed the candy off the counter.

As they left the building, JJ loudly commented, “You’re right. She is a cunt.”

***

They made it back to his house with the snacks just as the OBX amateur sailor’s competition began, which unfortunately turned into local news once the sun set.

The sound of the washing machine hummed just under the television. It seemed to always be running lately, but she never paid it any mind. Sometimes it was a source of entertainment, like when they’d smoke copious amounts of weed together and watch the dark clothes swirl around in soapy water.

JJ grabbed the remote, turning up the volume until it got her to look up from her Switch, which she’d pulled out when the ship with the funniest name fell out of the top 3.

“Have you been seeing this?”

“... is still at large. Authorities state the killer has claimed the lives of six Figure Eight residents in the last three weeks. Victims have been found stabbed, mutilated, and even burned…”

“Some bastard is going around killing Kooks. What kinda fucked up world do we live in?” he tutted, re-silencing the TV and shaking his head disdainfully.

Y/N snorted. “Oh no,” she whined. “What ever will we do?”

“How offensive,” JJ pretended to scoff. “Don’t even care that people are dying.” He pushed his shoulders back, hands on his hips like a disapproving mother. “They can’t be graphic on TV, obviously. Y’wanna know what I heard the killer does? His techniques?”

Her attention to the video game disintegrated. “I don’t care about rumors,” she said, like she wasn’t tucking the device away in the coffee table’s underbelly.

“Rumors?! I have friends on the force,” he insisted. JJ has a loose definition of the word ‘friends’. “This is straight from the experts.”

“Tell me.”

“The killer sneaks into the house after cutting the lights. Locks all the doors so you can’t escape.”

He’s encroaching on her, face dark but a little teasing under it. “They say he uses some kind of knife, maybe a machete. Once he’s got you trapped, he cuts your throat so you can’t even scream. That’s when the disembowelment starts.”

His body eclipses any light from the kitchen behind him, leaving a shining aura around his frizzy blonde hair. He’s standing so still, but his eyes are fluttering all over her.

“Are you trying to turn me on?” she blurted.

His face brightened. “Does it turn you on? ‘Cause I have a Scream mask in my closet, and we can totally rol—”

“I was kidding!” she stopped him, pushing his thighs so he’d back away. It was always her job to pull the brakes on their banter, lest it go past a point of no return. “You know Voorhees is more up my alley, anyways.”

***

JJ scanned the e-ticket with the disinterested teenager working the booth. Another peeked into his backpack looking for firearms and waved him along without detecting the stash of blunts at the bottom.

He threw the bag over his shoulder and ducked into the festival grounds. His friends were already here– he was late, he hadn’t timed his tasks well, but at least they his favorite local band hadn’t gone on yet. He smacked a mosquito on his neck–so it begins. Hopefully Kiara brought that bug spray that smelled like triple sec.

When he caught eye of Y/N, she was waiting by the festival’s entrance, crouched under a tree. Her nose was buried in her phone, and he could tell when she received the I’m here text he shot her, because her head snapped up excitedly. She looked back at the opening act wrapping up, stumbled up onto steady feet, and jogged to him.

“Just in time!” she noted cheerfully. She reached up, throwing her arms around his shoulders and ignoring the sweat on his neck. “Ooh, you smell like gasoline. And…” She sniffed more, looking past the fumes and boy-smell. “Cut grass? Did you mow your lawn before you came here?”

“Kinda. Did some weed-eating,” he corrected. “I blame ADHD for the shitty time management, but I still made it and the yard looks decent,” he explained, lifting the base of his shirt to wipe the moisture off his forehead. When his eyes were covered, she stared dead at his toned stomach and the sunlight bouncing off the droplets collecting there. Why not, right?

“That took you forever. Did you get behind your house, too?”

“Behind the house? You want me to meet my fate with a copperhead? No, just had trouble filling up the gas tank without making a mess.”

“Copperheads aren’t lethal,” she muttered, then looked around at the food and drink stands. She nodded in that direction and he reciprocated, understanding.

Y/N skipped up to the bar, placing her hands on the soaking wet surface and leaning forward to get the attention of the shack’s manager. “Harvey!” she chirped.

“Hey!” the older man greeted, pouring two drinks for her without her even asking. “So good to see you. How’s your mom’n’em all?” They chatted, he waved away the cash she held out to him, and she beamed a smile before taking her treasures back to JJ.

But when she turned back, precariously carrying the two beverages, a large body shoved her to the side and she lost the top inch of both her drinks. She was ready to forgive, given the stranger admitted it was an accident, but this was not the case.

Local rich snob, friend of Rafe and company, Cole Parker. When he looked down at the shaken girl, he scoffed. “Out of the way, you fucking brat. Some of us can actually afford to buy our drinks.”

Her face burned hot as she scurried away, desperate to not catch the ear of any venue security who would dislike Harvey not IDing her.

“Hey,” she muttered to JJ, praying he hadn’t noticed.

The prayers were unanswered. “What happened?” he asked, still sizing up the situation. “What did he say to you?”

“Ignore him,” she demanded and shot a warning look. She pushed the beer into his hands. “C’mon, let’s just find Kiara and Pope.”

His hand squeezed the plastic cup into a misshapen oval at the sound of her voice catching. The tuning of the band’s guitars forced him to follow her, but he wasn’t ready to let this go. It’s unfair that he and his friends had to duck their heads and run whenever Kooks bite first.

Glancing back at the beer stand, Cole was already shouting at the young employee who brought him the wrong drink. What a prick.

***

Y/N thumbed the front doorknob, staring out onto her porch and the flooded yard. It was too dark to see how far the clouds expanded or how long the storm would last. She wished JJ was here– they’d hole up together in her room and watch House of the Dragon episodes, picking through microwave popcorn, jumping at the thunder until they both fell asleep. She let the door fall shut.

Her gaze fell down, attention grabbed by the front hall light’s reflection. A little ring of water had collected at the base of the door. A weary sigh escaped her lips– anyone who said they loved the rain never lived in a crappy house. She padded down the hallway to get towels out of the linen closet. It’s a temporary fix, but better than the water reaching her damn bed while she slept.

As she pulled the rattiest cloths from the back of the closet, the hall light snapped off, leaving her in icy darkness. Fuck, the stupid storm knocked the power out.

There was more towel than water at the moment, but it would pay off if the rain persisted. Once she was satisfied with the fabric arrangement she’d kicked around, her eyes trailed back up to the lock and deadbolt, both securely fastened.

Wait.

She hadn’t done that.

“Sneaks into the house after cutting the lights. Locks all the doors so you can’t escape.”

JJ’s words rang in her head and chills erupted over her body. Surely she was being foolish, right? The killer only targeted Kooks. Maybe, maybe she actually had locked the door and merely forgotten.

Regardless, she stumbled backwards from the door, bumping into one of the living room chairs. Wait, she shouldn’t blindly move backwards. Where was her phone? Should she call JJ? The cops? Nothing had even happened yet. Calling the cops because her door was locked, they’d think she was cra–

No, no, she was absolutely not fucking crazy because there was a figure standing right in front of the big window in her living room. Clear cut, a tall and slim silhouette cutting a man-shaped void in the rainy backdrop, it would be beautiful if her insides weren’t curdling and rotting within her.

Dear God, she wanted to vomit. Her mind flipped through everything she could do and came up with nothing. The doors were locked, God knows where her car keys are, it’d take too long to find her phone. The figure was only a good ten feet away from her. Tears sprung in her eyes— what the fuck does she do now?

The figure decided for her. “Run,” it said.

If the man in her living room had said ‘jump’, she’d ask ‘how high’. Her feet moved faster than her brain, to her disadvantage, because they did not take her in the direction of an exit. She skittered down the hallway to her bedroom, slipping on the floor runner as she bolted.

It didn’t matter, because the intruder was significantly faster than she and caught up in a matter of steps. He pinned her to the wall and she squealed before he placed a hand on her mouth, keeping her from crying out anymore. The man was drenched, still soaked from the rain, and he dripped over her body, her clothes, the floor.

A flash of lightning hit, briefly illuminating the Scream mask the intruder wore, and everything came together.

The bait, and the knife collection. The gasoline smell on his clothes. Fuck, fuck, her head was spinning. The drugs, that massive stash she’d found in his dresser— if he hadn’t been sneaking off to sell, then what? Were those trophies from his conquests? Like it wasn’t enough to just take their lives?

She felt so small under him, more than usual, until she realized he was actually wearing some kind of hefty boot that changed his height. It’s intentional, to throw off anyone who might see him near his victims’ homes. She wailed, but it was mangled behind her sealed lips. He removed his hand from her mouth and lifted the mask, revealing her bright-eyed, grinning best friend.

“Guess where I just came from.”

When nothing came out of her gaped mouth, he showed a gloved hand and dragged the thumb across his face. In the low light, she could see a dark streak painted on his cheek. Blood.

“Jesus fucking Christ, please tell me it wasn’t Cole Parker’s house,” she pleaded, fat tears rolling down her face.

“Wow. You are the world’s best guesser,” he noted. “C’mon, doll, don’t be upset. Remember how he treated you yesterday? Now he can’t do that to anyone ever again.”

She sobbed out louder, wiggling to escape his grasp. No use. “Please, don’t hurt me, please,” she babbled.

“Stop crying,” he snapped, then shook his head. “Shh, shh, I’m sorry. Look, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’d never hurt you. You’re my favorite girl in the world, y’know that?”

“Y- you made me wash the knives,” she bawled, and he had to stop and think back to what she was talking about. “And the t-shirt!”

He snorted. “Hey, you offered to wash my shirt.”

“But JJ, you can’t…” she trailed off, voice high and pathetic.

“What? I can’t what?” he demanded. “Get a little revenge on the people who’ve made our lives hell? Levels out the playing field, and I get to blow off steam.”

She was quiet, panting and staring up at him with bewildered eyes. He let her process everything, accept the huge revelation she’d just come to. Lightning flashed again, and they both held their breath in anticipation of the succeeding thunder explosion. The lack of power left the home eerily silent, no fans or appliances whirring to fill the emptiness. All that was left was the sound of her gasps slowly evening out.

“What if you get caught?” she asked meekly.

JJ’s smirk came back. “Sweetheart, I’m never gonna get caught.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How many times have you done it?”

It’s a challenge. She’s asking partially to check his credibility, sure, but there’s something else to it. Curiosity, her gaze shifting from scared and threatened to… intrigued. Maybe a little into it?

So he pushed back. He leaned down, getting close enough to her ear that the plastic mask he wore knocked on her temple. No harm in being honest now.

“Ten,” he whispered.

He felt her shiver under him, body arching instinctively into his own. “No, no, don’t tell me you enjoy that,” he shook his head mock-disappointedly. “You like the fact that your best friend is a murderer?”

Her head knocked back against the wall, eyes shutting guiltily as he drew out that last word. JJ’s hand raised, the soft leather connecting with her skin. He painted the same streak on her face that he bore, just so they’d match.

“I’m not sorry about Parker,” he said, daring to leave a kiss on her clean cheek. “I’d beat his fucking face in again, and again, and again. And anyone else who thought about trying me.”

She finally touched him, stopped cowering away like her brain told her to. Instead, she gripped at his wet, dark clothes and sought for zippers, hems, anything to get them off him.

JJ scoffed, unable to enjoy a moment without getting complacent to save his life. “Oh, now you want me, pretty girl? Now that you think I’m cold-blooded?”

“Always wanted you, JJ,” she whined, giving up and pulling his jacket up from the bottom. Her hands found contact at least with his torso, feeling the chilly skin and trying to warm him up. “Didn’t know you cared enough about me to do something like that.”

He lightly dug his teeth into the skin on her neck, having to crane down to reach in those stupid shoes. “You have no idea what I’d do for you.”

And she got a little confident. Her hand plunged down to palm roughly against the black denim covering his zipper. To her delight, he was caught off guard, groaning in pleasure and pushing his hips for more purchase. She shimmied down, pushing him away from her enough to fall to her knees.

JJ couldn’t believe what was happening before his eyes. He lifted his hand once more, bringing the leather-covered middle finger to her lips. She obeyed his silent command, biting the tip of the glove with her front teeth and pulling it off his hand.

She spat the glove onto her floor, metallic taste dancing over the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t care. His now-free hand entangled itself into her hair, tilting her head back to look up at him. “Such a good girl for me. Knew you’d understand.”

The button and zipper on his jeans popped open after some struggling from her, and she pulled down his boxers until his leaking cock was in her hand. He got lightheaded—fuck, his best friend of years, who just found out he’s been on a killing spree, is about to suck him off. Butterflies filled his stomach for the first time in ages.

Tentative at first, she held him in her left hand and guided the tip to her eager tongue. Her lips closed around him and his eyes rolled back into his skull when he realized how fucking good at this she was. She licked at the head while sucking him as far back as she could comfortably manage, and when her tongue perfectly found that one spot on the bottom, he audibly let out an “oh fuck”.

Is she touching herself right now? JJ slammed his still-gloved hand on the wood panel in front of him for stability. For a moment, his brain went on red alert thinking of the blood smearing on the wall but then she literally swallowed around his cock and he decided he’d hang a fucking picture over it for all he cared.

Enough was enough. He threaded his free hand through her hair and tugged her off, to her whimpering protests. “None of that. Ladies first.”

Together, they ducked into her bedroom, and JJ pulled the jacket and t-shirt off of his body. He’d continue this fully clothed if the threat of pneumonia didn’t loom over him. His boots and the other glove went too.

She waited for him, toes digging into the hardwood floor and hands wringing each other out. When he suggested she take her shirt off, she obeyed without thinking, and a blessed flash of lightning illuminated her body when her face was covered by the fabric. He stared hungrily—why not, right?

JJ tugged down his jeans, and when he was just left in his boxers, she softly gasped. His head snapped up. “S’that why you’d been doing so much laundry?” she asked, doe-eyed.

He laughed, pressing a finger to his lips and using the other hand to cup the back of her head. “C’mon, don’t think about my laundry right now. Don’t think about any of that. Think about this.” His hand dropped down to her covered mound, the only part of her body that had a bit of fabric on it. With his middle digit, he pressed in, right on her clit and her brain melted again.

JJ walked her backwards to the bed and she flopped down eagerly. He dropped down to be face-to-face with her panties, fingers running eagerly over the cotton covering her mound. He gathered the fabric and pulled it upwards, taut against her clit. She gasped, pushing down to meet his actions.

“Please, more,” she whispered, and he was happy to comply. Teasing was for people who had patience, and he didn’t have an ounce of that in his body right now.

JJ pulled down her panties only enough to get off one ankle. Maybe next time he’d keep the pair for himself, but he didn’t have a pocket available right now. A hand on each thigh, he exposed her to himself again, and wasted not a second pushing his face into her cunt.

She gasped, body arching away to keep him from where she was so sensitive, but his mouth followed. The only breaks she got were when he stopped sucking her clit to kiss around the rest of her pussy. His hips rolled into the mattress when she started making the best fucking noises, and he didn’t stop her when she held him in place with her thighs, or when she pulled at his hair with her wandering, desperate hands.

“Mm, you’re not so scary after all,” she noted, teasing smile on her lips. JJ pushed his middle finger inside her without warning and she choked on her own breath.

His eyebrow raised. “Fine. I can be a little mean to you.”

He withdrew himself and she curled up to him out of desperation. JJ tutted at her and motioned for her to flip over and her eyes widened. Before she could comply, he impatiently grabbed her hips and did it for her.

She started to lay on the bed, but he scoffed and pulled her up by the waist so that her back pressed against his chest. If not for his boxers, his cock would be perfectly aligned with her ass, but this was more than enough for him. His free hand dove down to keep dragging his wet fingers over her pudgy clit. She wasn’t going anywhere, not with the grip he had on her, but she still desperately clung to his supporting arm. His gliding fingers slipped right into her wet cunt, providing almost no resistance as he stretched her open.

Boneless. Head tossed back onto his shoulder, arms dropped in front of her, and JJ took this opportunity. The hand that wasn’t pushing two thick fingers into her hole snugly wrapped around her throat, tenderly keeping her in place as he threatened to draw a world-shattering orgasm from her while hardly trying.

“Y’like when I hold you like this, sweetheart?” he asked, lips buried in her hair. The soft breaths around his words ghosted the shell of her ear and goosebumps erupted on her skin.

“Pleasedon’tstopI’mgonnacum,” she cried, body tensing and warping back to touch him.

Her stream of babbling continued as her orgasm coursed through her, and JJ grinned smugly with the feeling of her swollen clit pulsing under his slick fingers. When her words slowed and so did her muscles fidgeting, he slapped her sensitive core. Can’t be too nice.

Still, he let her cool down, kissed on her neck and thumbed at her skin with the arm tucked around her. She finally tapped him when it was okay to keep going.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, ready to bend her forward, but she resisted and looked back at him. “Are you alright?” he spat out nervously, wondering if he’d been too rough or gone too far—

Nope. She leaned over the edge of the bed and fished through the pile of clothes that had been yanked off in his scramble to undress. His eyes narrowed, struggling to see what she was coyly presenting him, and his jaw dropped when he realized it was the Scream mask he wore earlier.

No one could smack the glee out of him. He took the mask and pulled it back over his face while she got back in position with her ass up. JJ aligned himself once more, gliding the silky tip against her entrance. “Fuck, doll, you’re so wet. This all for me?”

“Mm, who else?” she purred, slyly turned towards him.

Fuck, he’s really starting to rub off on her. He had to pretend that the tight grip on her ass was to be sexy and not steady himself. He’s never been so nervous lining himself up– this was her, after all.

Air sucked into his chest when he glanced down to see himself disappearing inside her. It was dark, thank God, because if his view was even the slightest bit clearer, he’d finish instantly. She parted around him so hungrily, like she was pulling him in by his cock. The grip he had on her hips tightened and he resorted to straining a look at her face dug into the bed sheets instead.

Every roll of his hips rang out a new slap around the bedroom. JJ smirked at the delicious noise. “So wet, fuck. Can’t tell if it’s you or me.”

It was both of them. Droplets still covered his thighs even after removing the clothes, and the sound of their legs colliding combined with the sounds of her own cunt. Her legs shook as he continued to assault her pussy, the din spurring him along.

Her second orgasm came crashing over her unexpectedly, pulled from her body with ease as he kept his rhythm splitting her open.

After she came, all bets were off. His pace lost its rhythm at the same time he completely lost his cool and the only thing on his mind was how long he could’ve been stretching her open on his cock. The whole time they’d been just awkwardly checking each other out and shacking up together, and now every fantasy he’s been tormented with is a reality. JJ pulled his cock out and painted her back with cum, body spasming and rough ohfuckfeelssogoodsweetheart muttering spilling out of his mouth.

Y/N’s spent body collapsed onto the bed, disregarding the mess he’d just made. Ever-so-polite JJ used his wet t-shirt to wipe her down before joining her, but both were too fucked-out to care about proper clean-up. Before she could fall asleep, though, he had something important to ask her.

“Hey, sweetheart? When I reset the fuse box, can I use your washing machine?”

[stevenssacrab]

I Can't Wait

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: You come home tired after an exhausting mission and just want to shower and go to bed, but Natasha has other ideas.

Rating: 18+ smut (minors, do not interact)

Warnings: Sub reader, soft dom Natasha, fingering, mommy kink (i'm not sorry), oral (female receiving), hair pulling, aftercare?

Word Count: 2k

a/n: Had to take a break while I recovered but I'm back baby! This is my 2nd, 2,000 word fic! I had tons of fun writing this one, hope everyone enjoys.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

You sigh, push the key through the keyhole, and open your door. This week's mission really pushed you past your breaking point, and you just wanted to get into a hot shower and wash away all the sweat and grime that had built up; you close the door behind you and sigh for the umpteenth time, tossing your keys haphazardly on the counter.

"I'm home," you exhale, kicking off your boots and walked toward your room; you barely make it through the threshold when Natasha pins you against the wall, devouring your lips; you groan, hands grasping at her hair.

"I've missed you, baby; you smell so good," Natasha uttered between kisses, inhaling your scent; she's always had this primal attraction to your natural scent; she slid her thigh in between your legs, grinding against your core, you whimper against her lips, shamelessly grinding into her thigh, she licks at your lips, silently asking permission to explore, you obliged, opening your mouth, tasting the vanilla ice cream off her tongue.

"Wait, I have to shower; I smell so bad," you whined, throwing your head back in an exasperated groan. Natasha chuckles and steps aside, snickering at the situation's absurdity.

"Don't take too long, or I'll start without you," Natasha teases playfully, choosing to lie on the bed in the meantime; you briskly walk into the bathroom, quickly shedding your clothes. Natasha's not one to make empty promises; the water is like heaven against your aching muscles, and you groan gently; you squeeze shampoo into your palm and spread it in your hair, firmly massaging your scalp, and then rinse; you suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around you.

"Let me help you, baby," Natasha whispered hotly into your ear, squeezing body wash onto your loofa and lathering; she started at your arms, softly kneading the soap into your damp skin; you mewl into her touch, her soft hands caressing your aching muscles, rubbing her soapy hands all over your body, hugging you from behind, pawing at your tits and pinching the erect buds roughly, while suckling on your neck, you lean against her and tilt your head, giving her more space to explore, and she does, eagerly.

"Please," you beg; Natasha chuckles, biting down on your shoulder, running her middle finger through your pussy lips; you whine loudly, desperate for more.

"Beg for more, baby," she coos softly, nibbling your ear gently, hands palming your ass; you let out a high-pitched moan.

"Please, more, I need you; I'll be a good girl, I promise," you whined loudly, gripping her hand and placing it on your aching pussy, "please, I'll do anything," you keened delicately, spreading your legs, Natasha groans and obliges, expertly rubbing circles into your swollen clit, you moan loudly, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I touch you here?" she murmured in your ear, "Yes, I love it," you sobbed, drunk off her fingers, bucking into her hand boldly. Natasha gently turned your head, kissing you slowly, swallowing every whine and moan that spilled out of you; she gently slapped your sensitive clit, smiling when you gasped loudly.

“More; I need more, please,” you pleaded desperately against her lips; she only smiled, relishing how easy it is to get you riled up.

“Anything for you, my princess,” she hums, fingers playfully circling your hole, teasing you further; you whine and buck your hips forward eagerly; she snickered at your desperation, and she lifted two fingers to your mouth; you take them in without a word, gliding your velvet tongue over her digits, suckling harshly as her other hand circles your clit, she pulls her fingers out, slowly sliding one inside, you moan loudly, pushing down onto her finger, desperate for more, pumping her finger in and out agonizingly slow, you whine lustily, hopelessly trying to bounce on her finger but she pulls out entirely.

“Ah ah,” she disapproves, lowering her hand once again, this time sliding in two fingers; you throw your head back and moan thunderously, “Yes, just like that,” you babble out; she pumps her fingers in and out, curling her fingers in a come hither motion, hitting your sweet spot exactly, you mewl loudly, legs feeling like jelly, Natasha holds you up easily, she angles her fingers, hitting it with every thrust, you feel that familiar twist in your stomach, you know if she keeps going like this you won’t last long, you try to express that your close but your brain can’t think straight all that comes out is high-pitched moans, growing louder and louder by the second.

“I-I,” you blurt out, desperately trying to warn her.

“Yes, baby?” She coos, thrusting her fingers faster. She knows you are close, but she wants to hear you say it; she wants to see if you can do it; she likes to watch you short-circuit from the pleasure, to be cruel and add to your undoing; she sucks and bites at your neck, you let out a moan so deep it comes from your throat.

“Nat, I’m, oh god,” you sob; you look down and watch with your mouth ajar, her fingers pumping into you with such speed that you don’t know how you’ve made it this far.

“Are you close, baby? Do you wanna cum on my fingers?” She asks mockingly, thrusting her fingers particularly hard, punctuating each word with a hit to your g-spot; you’re past the high-pitched whines and moans, past trying to stay quiet for the neighbor's sake; all that comes out of you are throaty moans, and screams.

“Yes, mommy! Please let me cum on your fingers; I’m so close,” you cry, tears streaming down your face, simply because she loves to watch you suffer; she lifts her hand and rolls your nipple in between her thumb and index finger, and you scream, and when you thought she couldn’t go faster, she picks up the pace, lowering her hand to play with your clit at the perfect pace.

“Cum on my fingers, baby, let me hear you,” she whispers hotly in your ear, panting; you cum on her fingers, throwing your head back, moan ripping out of you, your vision goes white, and all you hear is ringing in your ears, you feel your walls spasming around her fingers, fucking you through your high, she slowly pulls out her fingers, you lift off her and turn around and stare at her, watching her closely, she puts her two fingers in her mouth, moaning, savoring your delicious taste, eyes locked on yours, you stare, body buzzing that post orgasm feel, she pulls them out with a pop, and it snaps something within you, you push her back against the cool tile wall, you drop to your knees, she chuckles.

“So eager to please,” she hums proudly, stroking your hair lovingly; you waste no time and dive in, your tongue expertly finding her clit, kitten licking it, your eyes watching her; she sighs contently, hand resting on the top of your head, you lift your fingers to her mouth, as she had done before, and she opens her mouth obediently, accepting your fingers, coating them and sucking them softly, you latch onto her clit, catching her off guard, with your fingers still in her mouth she moans gently, you pull them out and tease her hole, slowly push in one finger, pumping excruciatingly slowly, she pressed her lips together trying to suppress her moans, she’s been known to repress how good you make her feel, she wants you to earn her sweet sounds, you sit back on your heels for a better angle, you fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for each other, you suckle gently on her clit, mixing between, licking and gently running your teeth along her bud, her face relaxed, she lazily ruts herself against your silk tongue, you moan sending vibrations through her body, gasping softly, gripping your hair gently, you moan again, relishing the delicious sting at your scalp, your hands glide up her legs and to her ass, pawing aggressively against her supple skin, you use your grip as leverage and help her grind down on your tongue, you flick your tongue delectably slow, treasuring the taste, watching her face contort in pleasure, her eyes are closed, her mouth hangs open, she’s basking in it all, you give her ass a smack, signaling her to open her eyes and watch you work away, she watches, bottom lip captured by her teeth, even still she’s holding back, you slide a 2nd finger in, curling your fingers, in search of her bundle of nerves, she moans quietly, watching your fingers disappear inside her, you feel the familiar texture of her spot, you know the feeling all to well, and push your fingers against it slowly, she gasps loudly, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Holy shit,” she blinks rapidly, eyes seeing stars, “don’t stop,” she pleads, chasing that feeling again; you smile; it’s too easy to get her worked up; she likes to act as if it’s not; but you’ve spent a lot of time exploring all her sweet spots and discovering what makes her tick, you curl your fingers once again, brushing against the bundle of nerves, she mewls loudly, her resolve long gone, she throws her head back against the tile, you add the third and final finger, she yelps, eyes wide watching in disbelief, you slide in with ease, curling all three fingers exactly where she wants it, she opens her mouth in a silent scream, her legs trembling violently, she lets out a loud gasp, followed by a cry.

“Oh god, yes,” she weeps, her hands gripping your shoulders, trying desperately to stay upright. Still, her legs feel like they’ll give out at any moment, “Just like that, baby, yes,” she babbles out; you thrust your fingers, hitting the perfect spot every time; you lean forward and lightly lick her clit; earning a scream from Natasha, she grips your hair and pushes you against her pussy, you latch around her clit and suck mercilessly, you can tell she's close, she moans so loud they bounce off the tile, water running cold, you grab her right leg and throw it over your shoulder, eliciting a moan so deep it pains her, her hands buried in your hair, using it as leverage to fuck herself into your face.

"Cum for me, baby," you say quickly, reattaching yourself to her clit, sucking ruthlessly; she gasps loudly and cums on your fingers, body shaking vigorously, eyes squeezed shut, panting loudly; you slowly fuck her through the high; she whimpers when it's too much, you chuckle slightly and pull out, your legs feel numb, you have trouble standing, Natasha hugs you and pulls you up, kissing you tenderly, holding you sweetly, caressing your back and shoulders, almost thanking you, you draw mindless patterns into her wet skin, soothing her muscles, kiss her lazily, hand hidden in her hair, she breaks the kiss and reaches for conditioner and squirts some in her palm, gently massaging it through your hair, you hum, basking in her fingers gingerly rubbing your scalp, running her hands delicately through the strains, she walks you back into the water, you gasp; all the hot water is gone, cold water envelops your body, you shiver, pulling Natasha closer for warmth, she soothingly rinses the conditioner out of your hair, and turns off the water, Natasha grabs the towel and dries you off, carefully patting your more sensitive parts, she helps you step into your underwear, legs still feeling a little wobbly, you support yourself on her shoulders as you step in, she playfully smacks the band against your hip, you laugh and playfully hit her arm, next she grabs your oversized shirt and pulls it over your head, you return the favor and pat Natasha's skin dry, carefully wrapping her hair in the towel, she grabs your hand and leads you to the bedroom, reaching for a fresh pair of panties, and steps into them, pulling an oversized shirt over her head, you both crawl into your warm bed and cuddle for warmth against the cold winter air,

"Goodnight, Y/N," she said lovingly, pulling you closer. You sighed happily, "Goodnight," you whispered and blissfully fell asleep in her arms.

[thepascalofus]

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

AO3

Part Two

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Word Count: 19.1k (HAHAHAHAHAAA)

Chapter Summary: Previous feelings for each other are revealed, and then those feelings are explored. An exchange, if you will.

Content Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, nervous!reader, soft!!!!!!mando, reader loves facial hair, fluff fluff fluff, helmet comes off, cuddling, SMUT: making out, grinding, PRAISE kink, lowkey size kink, big dick mando, consent king mando (consent king mando is the hottest mando, it is law), m and f masturbation, dirty thoughts of reader and of mando, piv, unprotected and protected piv, fingering f receiving, ass grabbing, a lil nipple play, half naked and naked mando, lovey dovey sex hehehehehe, physical descriptions of reader are as neutral as possible but reader has a vagina

A/N: I cannot thank you all enough for your responses on the first two parts. I also cannot thank you all enough for your patience for part three. It is longer than part one and two combined (y’all voted for me to post in one long part, ya get what ya ask for!), so I think it was worth the wait. Also I didn’t proofread this because I was too excited to post it. Will read over it later though! ENJOY!!

THREE MONTHS PRIOR

A thudding sound was produced by Mando’s footsteps up the Crest’s ramp. Looking up from the article you were reading on your Holopad, your eyes were trained on the lowering ramp. You nestled a bit further into your reading nook–a pile of blankets and some pillows stacked against the wall–as you anticipated the outside air hitting you.

Mando entered the Crest covered in mud. His footprints left a trail up the metal of the ramp. That’s another thing to add to the list of chores, you thought. The planet’s surface was half-swamp, so of course he would come back looking like he just rolled in bantha shit. A struggling bounty that Mando was dragging by the cuffs snapped around their wrists only made the mess worse. 

With a grunt and a push, the quarry was frozen in the carbonite cell before Mando could finish the harsh grit of his, “Dank farrick.” His muddy, gloved hand left a mark on his vambrace when he touched it to close the ramp. 

Silence.

A modulated exhale.

He stood with his expansive shoulders slumped and helmet turned downwards a bit. An apologetic tone crackled through the helmet, “I’m really sorry about the mess,” he slowly said as he used his hands to gesture around him.

Yeah, it wasn’t the most fun chore in the galaxy, but the alternative would be sitting and reading an article on your Holopad. Or sitting next to Mando in the cockpit, the streams of light gleaming off of his armor as you two have a sleepy conversation. They do sound like better alternatives, but you wanted to maximize your time with Mando.

You knew that Mando would help you clean up the mess. More time with Mando greatly sweetened the task of scrubbing the hull.

“I’m going to uh,” he glanced down at the muddy ensemble that covered his body, “go rinse off real quick.” He began his path towards the fresher door and stood still in front of the door. The helmet turned towards his right shoulder, like he was lost in thought. You could tell he concluded his reasoning as the helmet turned back to face the fresher door and he reached up to unlatch his armor. 

First the chest plate was placed on the floor.

Tung.

Then the thigh guards.

Tang. Tang.

Vambraces.

Ting. Ting.

Pauldrons.

Dunk. Dunk.

It wasn’t unusual for Mando to remove his armor outside of the thresher. Occasionally the planet he needed to hunt on was sweltering hot, and removing the armor helped him cool down. Other times it was the inverse, the armor was too cold and he needed to heat up. It made sense to you this time as well. His armor was dirty so removing it before stepping into the fresher helped him clean up easier.

You didn’t realize he would apply the same logic to his mud-soaked flight suit.

Reaching up, his gloved fingers fiddled with the buttons at the top of his shirt. Eventually he was successful in undoing them and brought his hands behind his neck. He gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled it up and over the helmet. Off of his torso and onto the floor.

Plap.

The saturated long sleeve clung to his upper body like a surgical exam glove. Every muscle. Every ripple with his movement. They shined in the light of the Crest and displayed every lean curve of the Mandalorian’s body. Once more he reached up, this time undoing the buttons on his long sleeve.

Oh kriff.

Hands gripping the back collar of the shirt, the removal of the wet, black fabric revealed golden tan skin. Scars littered the expanse of his back from the years of combat he’d endured. The muscles that previously rippled underneath black fabric now gleamed under tan skin, coated with a layer of sweat.

Plap.

Oh kriff.

You were behind the nearly beskar-less man. Knowing he couldn’t see you, your jaw dropped.

Mando stepped out of his shoes, which revealed clean black socks. Hopefully his boots were equipped with mechanisms to keep his feet dry. Lastly, he slid off his gloves.

Plap. Plap.

Veiny, golden hands–matching his torso–were ungloved. His fingers were thick with well kept nails. You supposed that longer nails would make hand-to-hand combat difficult. As he opened the fresher door you watched his hand flex around the handle. His biceps bulged in the process of pulling the metal door open.

Once he was inside the fresher, you heard shuffling. After a minute or two, the door opened slightly. A large hand and toned forearm reached out and discarded his pants and underwear on the floor.

Plap.

The water began to run in the fresher and the pattering of liquid hitting the fresher floor filled the Crest. Occasional variations in the pattering occurred when Mando moved his body underneath the stream of water. 

Then the pattering stopped. Mando must have been drying himself off, the slight shuffling sounds made their way to your ears. Those sounds ceased as well.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat and called out your name, “Um. Hey.”

Blinking a few times, you snapped out of your daydream-like state, “Yeah?” You called in response.

A pause. “Would you mind getting me some pants, please?” His voice was tight–possibly in embarrassment.

Your eyes widened and body sat still, “Uh, yeah sure! Where do you keep clean pairs?” You asked.

“Right side of my bunk. First cabinet on the left.” He raised his voice in order to enunciate his words. 

Before you knew it, you were leaning into Mando’s bunk. Your gaze floated around the space in a quick glance. It was clean and organized. After witnessing his wide and tall frame the bed looked almost too small. Or maybe he just looked that large.

Your hand opened the first cabinet on the left and the other hand selected a clean pair of pants off the top of the stack. They were soft, fleece-like. Realizing they were sweatpants you extended your arm to put them back, but then hesitated as your hand hovered over the pile. Mando just came back from a hunt. A swampy, muddy hunt at that. He should get to be comfortable now.

The sweatpants remained in your hand and your footsteps took you to the fresher door. “I got you a pair,” you shyly announced. 

A squeak came from the fresher door’s hinges as the crack in the door allowed Mando’s hand to stick out of the space. His palm was open, waiting for the pants to meet his touch. Your arm reached forward and placed the soft pants into the grasp of his thick fingers.

“Thank you.” The smooth bass of his voice entered your ears and went south. Air moving through his vocal chords produced warm, honey-like vibrations and they made you melt. “I’ll get the rest,” he concluded, and shut the fresher door. 

You stood and studied your bleary reflection on the fresher door in awe at what you’ve experienced. Mando’s actual voice–without the helmet.

Shuffling began and ended abruptly. Lost in the awe, you didn’t realize the Mandalorian opened the door and took a step out. In consequence, his chest collided with your torso and sent you tumbling backwards. Backwards into a small puddle of swamp water and peaty mud.

“Di’kutla,” Mando let out a now modulated grunt.

Useless, worthless in Mando’a. Your heart stung a bit at the word. It’s not like you wanted to be covered in swamp gunk.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to make more of a mess,” you stuttered, nervous at the potential of him being mad at you.

Without a word, he reached down and hauled you to your feet, large hands grasped you at your waist. You became off balance and placed your hands on his chest for leverage. A slight gasp escaped your throat at the sudden movement–and at touching Mando’s bare chest.

His skin was soft, but rough. Thin black hairs littered his sternum and the surrounding skin. A light trail made its way down his soft, yet toned, stomach and disappeared past the waist of his sweatpants. Once you realized where your gaze settled–the soft bulge displayed behind the black fabric–your eyes snapped back up to his visor and your hands returned to your sides. Mando’s hands brushed the insides of your forearms. The skin on his hands was rough and warm, just like the skin on his chest.

The T shape tilted and then shook from side to side, “I’m di’kutla, not you. I’m the one that pushed you over.” 

His head peered downwards and noticed the placement of his hands, he quickly jerked them back to his sides and nodded, “Let’s get cleaning.”

–

The Mandalorian quickly pulled an outfit together, which lacked his usual beskar–the same black sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and a pair of black socks–and you mirrored his actions. Thankfully, he only caused your clothes to get dirty and not the rest of you. Your clean outfit was more revealing, which allowed you to bend and twist to scrub the mud off of the Crest’s interior.

While scrubbing, you would catch Mando out of the corner of your eye as he stole glances at you. An eyebrow of yours raised at his glances. You shot him a quick, “Don’t worry Mando, I’m getting it all,” in a teasing manner.

Looking back at the beskar-less man, he shook his helmet and chuckled, “I’m not worried about you getting it all. You keep the Crest sparkling clean. Was just…seeing if you needed help over there.” His visor returned to focus on the task of removing the mud from the floor of the hull.

–

The cleaning finished after an hour and a half. You were shocked at the efficiency, but you supposed two people cleaning aided in achieving the cleanliness of the Crest. Scrubbing the silver floors and walls tired you out, and Mando certainly felt the same after his hunt and scrubbing.

Sleep permeated throughout the air of the Crest and nestled itself into yours and Mando’s bodies. Fluid motions weaved your bodies past each other throughout the hull. Mando went back to change in his bunk while you used the fresher for your nightly routine. Once you were finished, you closed all the cabinets in the small space, signaling the return of your nightly products to their original places.

Which usually signaled Mando to stand outside of the fresher door.

His footsteps became louder as he strode to his usual spot across from the metal door of the fresher. You weren’t surprised to see Mando leaning against the wall of the hull.

But you were surprised at the bare chest staring back at you. The dark hairs on his chest littered your vision once more. The Mandalorian’s arms were crossed, which displayed every finely tuned muscle in the dim light of the hull.

You wanted to jump his bones. Climb him like a tree. Feel the expanse of his trunk-like arms under your palms.

“Are you all done there?” His modulated bass crackled through your thoughts. Straightening up and snapping out of your daydreams, you stepped to the side and nodded. Mando’s frame became larger as he approached you. Once your bodies were about to pass each other, an ungloved hand settled on your hip and gave you a slight squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said. His visor met your eyes before he closed the door to the fresher. 

You got comfy in your makeshift bed–a nice pillow, a thick sleeping pad, and a cozy blanket–and waited for Mando to finish his nightly routine. You always tried to stay up and say good night to Mando before you drifted off to sleep.

Facing the side of the Crest the fresher was on, your head hit the cushion of your pillow and your thoughts wandered.

Mando looked so fucking good. Deliciously good.

You’ve had thoughts about him before. Perverse thoughts. But they were never this strong. But you’ve also never seen him this bare this many times.

His strong arms could wrap around you and flood your body with his warmth. Broad hands would travel up and down your back, soothing any negative thoughts away. Warm skin against yours could act like a salve for your worries.

You could think of everything vividly. His arms. Hands. Chest. Even his legs.

But the feel and morphology of his lips was blurry in your mind's eye.

Yet, you wanted his lips so bad–wanted him so bad–that you didn’t mind the unfocused image in your brain.

You wanted his lips to chase after yours like they were a bounty with the highest reward he’s seen. You needed to feel the slick of his saliva mixing with yours. The dancing of your two tongues in a battle of lust. Not only did you pine after his kiss, but you sought everything that would accompany it as well.

Mando’s ungloved hands would run up and down the planes of your body. Squeezing and palming your features as he pleased, expressing his want for you. The comfortable weight of him on top of you as your mouths molded together. His shifting muscles underneath your palms as you copied his wandering hands. You’d trail your fingertips over the never-ending expanse of his firm back. The pressure of his hard shaft would grind against your mound.

And the sounds.

The sounds.

You’ve heard him grunt before, in pain, effort, exertion, while he handled his bounties.

But you wanted to cause the sounds instead.

His lips could slide against yours and vibrate as he lets out a soft groan of pleasure. The bare chest on top of yours would rumble, sending shivers of delight up and down your spine. Your fingers would dig into his back in response, which would only increase the intensity of his groans. His breath would hitch as the head of his cock rubbed against the point in your walls that had you reeling.

And finally his voice.

Modulated or not, you hoped he would reciprocate the want you had for him. Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to soothe the ache between them.

“Maker, you feel so good.”

“Need you right now.”

“You like that, baby? Yeah? Good.”

“Fuucckkk, always so good for m-.”

You were cut off by the squeaky hinges of the fresher door, accompanied by Mando’s footsteps. Still shirtless, he came into one side of your vision and slowly walked to the other side. Your face heated up at his presence and the thoughts you just had about him. He stopped in front of his bunk and looked at you. 

The T of his visor became diagonal, “You okay?” He questioned you.

Realizing he caught on, your face heated up even more as you produced a response, “Y-yeah! Yeah. Just…thinking.”

Nice save.

His helmet returned to its natural positioning. “What’re you thinking about?” He questioned once again. His large hands clasped in front of him just below his waist. Maker, he was huge. Mando put the width of the doorframe to shame as he continued to stare at you.

“Just…” You quickly tried to remedy the one sided awkwardness. “Just thinking about a book I’m reading. The plot is getting more complex.” Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug to make your answer seem nonchalant.

“What book? Is it the cowboy one?” Mando replied. He leaned against the doorframe to get comfortable.

Your heart throbbed at his thoughtfulness. The cowboy-related book was one you brought up to him a couple weeks ago, when he asked what you were reading. Not wanting to lie to him, you shook your head and told the truth, “No, I finished that one a couple days ago. This one is about,” you trailed off, and then lied, “This is a romance book.” Your face became hot once again. At least you weren’t completely lying.

“Romance?” Mando asked, “What’s this book called?” His helmet tilted in interest. You could pick up a teasing tone if you listened closely enough.

“Oh, I don’t think you’d like it,” you returned. He usually asked for book titles when he was interested in reading them as well. 

His bare shoulders shrugged, causing his chest to flex for a moment. “Was just curious what you were reading.” He sounded a bit disappointed. The door frame appeared to widen as he turned to enter his bunk.

Not wanting to leave him hanging, you made up a book title, “Hunter and Prey.” Your eyes widened at the sheer explicitness of the three words that left your lips. Hunter and Prey? Really? It would have been easier just to tell him what you were daydreaming about him railing you. 

Mando’s broad frame filled the entrance to his bunk once again. “Hunter and Prey?” He said in a teasing tone, one much more decipherable. 

You throw his tone right back at him, “Oh c’mon. The book has romance and adventure. Two birds with one stone.” You’ve told him how much you like adventure books, so hopefully your lie stuck.

The beskar helmet slanted in thought. “I guess so,” he settled his playful response and paused. A playful tone arose from his modulator once more, 

“Don’t get too interested in bounty hunters. I think getting caught is only fun in the books.” His chest, dark hairs splaying across the surface, vibrated as he chuckled.

A slight smile spread across your face at his joke, “You never know, some bounty hunters don’t take their job as seriously as you do,” you stuck your tongue out at him in jest. 

Mando shook his head, probably biting back a chuckle, and faced his torso towards you for the final time that night, “Good night.” 

Still smiling, you responded, “Good night.”

The bunk door shut and only a dim light in the hull remained as a light source. Shadows from different cargo boxes cast themselves across the silver wall. It would take too much work to decipher which reflections on the walls belonged to which items. Warm light from a lamp near your living space casted a blanket of relaxation over the area. You couldn’t escape the feeling, and your body slumped into the material of the sleeping pad.

Once you closed your eyes, you realized your body was the only thing that the warm light seemed to calm down. In your mind, one thought took center stage.

Mando.

The way he leaned against the door frame. A broad expanse of dark hair covered his chest and traveled down past his waist, the horizontal and vertical lines of hair mimicking the T of his visor. Crossed arms were decorated with a smooth topography of muscles. His voice, laced with relaxation and ease. How attentiveness was like second nature to him. 

How far did that attentiveness extend?

You thought about how carefully he listened and remembered details from your conversations. Picking up on things you’ve needed without you even realizing they’re necessary. Like the sleeping pad you’re laying on. The warm, cozy blanket he came back with one day. 

Would he do the same in bed?

Your hand traveled down to your mound. Dipping under your waistband, your fingertips found your clit. Slow motions started to stimulate the bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. It wasn’t the first time you masturbated on the Crest, you were human after all. But it was the first time you masturbated without assistance–from a book, video, or picture–and were spurred on by thoughts alone. 

He’d probably listen to your breath hitch as his thick, veiny fingers hooked into a spot on your inner walls just right. And he’d continue, hitting that exact spot over and over. With trained precision. Like it was nothing.

Upper teeth bite down on your lower lip as you thought about his fingers inside of you. How thick they are. How skilled he would be with them. Wet seeped from your slit onto your bottoms. The fingertips from your clit reached down to collect your wetness, and you resumed rubbing your clit at a faster pace.

He’d make you cum like it was his duty, as if it was part of his Creed. With confidence. Pride. Mando’s fingers would be soaked, so soaked that he’d raise them to meet your mouth. “Open.” He’d demand.

You knew you’d get that wet for him because you were already that wet for him. One of your hands continued rubbing your bundle while the other dipped into your entrance. A singular finger eased its way into your hole, but you wanted to feel the stretch. The stretch you knew his fingers would easily provide. Bringing another finger against the original one, you prodded at your entrance once more. You pushed into your wetness with two fingers.

That’s it.

Your eyes closed. Jaw dropped. 

Your thoughts wandered to his fingers once more, syncing your thoughts with the way your body felt. 

You’d take his fingers into your mouth and suck your slick from them. Right before they would retract, you coated the two digits in a layer of saliva. He observed his own fingers and understood your silent plea. “You want more, baby?” You nodded. His fingers returned to your wet hole and filled you once again.

Your own two fingers weren’t as thick as Mando’s, so you got used to the feeling of two. You needed more. The circling at your clit kept a constant pace as a third finger joined your other two. Your thoughts jumped to something that wasn’t his fingers.

His cock.

The soft bulge underneath the black fabric of his sweatpants. It was sizable, even when he was soft–you assumed he was soft–so how big would he be when he’s turned on? If his genetics maintained their pattern, he would be big.

He’d lean over you and line his hips up with yours. Each of your legs rested on one of his sides. A large hand would grip your hip to steady you, as he pushed the thick head of his cock into you. Mando would remain attentive. You knew he’d watch your face and listen to your breaths, your moans. His heavy cock found the same spot inside of you that his fingers did.

Your inner walls clenched around your three fingers. The strokes you took were slow and drawn out, savoring the fullness of your warmth.

Once he saw that you were comfortable, he’d pick up his pace. Your moaning increased, littered with, “please,” and, “Mando,” over and over. He’d groan at his name, fucking into you with more strength. Mando put the weight of his body behind his thrusts. Your body shifted up the mattress from the effort he put in. 

A small, wet sound began to echo across the hull, but you were too close to care. The hand at your clit fell into a perfect rhythm with the thrusts of the fingers entering and leaving your soaking hole. You bit your lip as you quieted a moan that threatened to leak from your mouth.

Mando’s broad palm and thick fingers would lace between yours, holding your conjoined hands above your head while he fucked into you. The head of his cock perfectly brushed against a spot deep within your walls. A place that you couldn’t reach by yourself. The Mandalorian’s hot breath fanned across your neck, he panted and groaned from his exertion. 

Another brush against your walls and you squeezed around him. “Fuucckkk,” he’d moan into your neck. He continued his pace and littered your neck in sloppy kisses. “That’s a good fucking girl.”

Both of your hands worked faster. Three fingers fucked into your hole, curled to try and hit the spot deep inside of you. Your other hand increased the pace of the study rub over your throbbing clit. The bottoms you wore felt soaked against your lower hand, yet you couldn’t care less.

Mando’s thrusts would be relentless. Hard. Fast. The weight of his heavy balls slapped against the tighter hole beneath the one he was fucking. 

Plap. Plap. Plap.

Each thrust would be so final. Conclusive. He fucked you like he knew exactly how this would end. His visor hovered over your face. Your jaw was dropped and your eyebrows were furrowed. The horizontal line of his visor filled your vision. His voice was merely a growl, as he demanded, “Cum for me.”

Your body went stiff as euphoria washed over you in waves. Each wave took you apart and brought you back together. The wetness of your hole only became wetter, the sound echoed a bit louder than before. Despite your attention to staying quiet, your orgasm raged on. Every reassembly from each wave of pleasure calmed your being, and your stiff form slumped into your sleeping pad. Your hands kept moving, but at a slower pace. Another wave followed every thrust of your fingers. You savored the warmth your orgasm brought you. Halting your hands, your mind came-to. 

That was the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had.

–

That hunt kriffing sucked, Mando thought.

Cold water ran down Mando’s body as he rinsed himself off in the fresher. Drops of liquid pattered onto the metal floor, pooling at his feet. Everything in his body felt limp, a result of his exhaustion from the hunt. 

The only thing that wasn’t limp was his dick.

Mando was already on the edge of his perverse thoughts. Seeing you, comfortable and cozy, made his heart swell–and his cock. Providing for you was like breathing. After every hunt he looked forward to meeting your gaze and a soft smile spreading across your face. 

Not only did he get to see you comfortable, but he saw you displaying your attraction to him. A display that included dropping your jaw when he took his shirt off.

He caught you gawking at him in the reflection of his chest plate. Your jaw dropped when he removed his final layers, and Maker, it only made his situation worse. Not only was his body dirty, his thoughts were dirty too. 

Before his brain started to spiral, he quickly completed his rinse-off and turned off the shower in the fresher. Stepping out, he realized he didn’t bring any fresh clothes in with him. 

Shit.

You were in the hull and would probably bring him something if he asked for it. But what does he ask for? A full outfit? He at least needed bottoms. He thought of how complicated it would be to explain where multiple things are in his bunk through the metal door of the fresher, so he opted to just ask for one thing–pants.

“Um. Hey. Would you mind getting me some pants, please?” Mando asked. He was a tad embarrassed. He plans hunts meticulously to save the most amount of time, he’s attentive to every detail in combat, and he forgot to bring pants into the fresher with him.

You brought him the pair and the Mandalorian quickly changed. Pausing before he touched the door handle, Mando became nervous. What if your jaw-dropping was one of disgust and not of attraction?

Only one way to find out.

–

Mando laid on the mattress in his bunk and finally let his thoughts wander. They wandered like a desperate quarry. So desperate to find a discreet place to live, but showing themselves at some point in the end.

He thought of the book you were allegedly reading: Hunter and Prey. You were reading a romance novel. About bounty hunters. 

His hardened cock only made his sweatpants tighter. Hips shifting upwards, he sought relief in adjusting his position. The only thing adjusting did was rub the head of his cock against the fabric of his pants. Black fabric created a heart-stopping friction against his tip. 

Dank farrick.

Finally giving in to his perverse thoughts, he let them wander. Just like how he would let an easy bounty wander around town. At any minute, he could capture them and complete his hunt, but sometimes he enjoyed “playing with his food” first.

His imagination put you on center stage. Your hair. Your eyes. The shape of your body and the planes of it he sought to run his hands over. Warm skin would glide underneath his palms and act like a sedative. Calmness washed over his mind. Then he thought of your lips. So delicately crafted. Your lips framed your gorgeous smile, like they were housing an ancient masterpiece in an art gallery.

The smile you gave him whenever he returned from a hunt made his heart melt. You’d be snuggled up reading, bent over the small stove cooking, or hunched over a mechanical issue. No matter the situation, you would look up and find his gaze behind his visor. Something anyone else could rarely accomplish. He finally felt like he had a purpose hunting, besides survival. 

You.

You’d meet him halfway and wrap your arms around his torso. His arms would snake around your torso and hold you in a tight hug. “I missed you,” he’d say. “I missed you too,” your response would vibrate against his chest. His hands would run up and down your back, relishing the feel of your body in his capable arms. 

He groaned at the thought. In frustration of not being able to have you. The simple image of a hug had him reeling, desperate to meld his being with yours. You were so perfect and lived in his damn ship. You spoke with him as if he were just Din, and not Mando. Images of domesticity juxtaposed images of his bounty hunting profession. It was a blessing and a curse. 

The pair of you would retreat to his bunk and turn off the lights. Your bodies would press together as the two of you shared the space of the mattress. He would press his helmet into your hair, smelling the faint scent of you through the metal–and the shampoo you recently bought at a market. He’d use his broad hands and thick arms to bring you closer to him, nearly crushing you via cuddling.

Mando’s face heated up at the thought. Feeling the heat of your body against his was something he would be willing to get on his knees and beg for.

Hands would begin to drift and adventure in a bold manner. His palms would glide up and down your body, stopping occasionally to grasp and rub different areas. He thought of the way your ass would feel in his palms. Soft. A cushion. A spectacle he almost didn’t feel deserving of. His hands would wander north and his fingers would tease your nipples through your shirt. You’d gasp in response and squirm against him.

Maker. He almost forgot. The sounds you would make. The Mandalorian groaned and reached down to palm his cock through his sweatpants. Relief flooded his body like how precum flooded from the head of his cock. Rough palms glided up and down the silky skin of his shaft. Once the friction became too much, he reached into a side compartment and produced a small bottle. Squeezing the plastic sides of the bottle, a small dollop of lube was squirted onto his fingers. He quickly returned to his thoughts and his actions. The lube allowed his large grip to seamlessly run along the length of his shaft.

Shit. Would you be this wet?

After exploring the feel of your body, Mando would pull you to sit in his lap. You’d be in between his legs with your back facing him, your legs resting out in front of you. He’d grip the insides of your knees and encourage you to let your legs fall to either side. Once he was pleased with the positioning he asked, “Is it okay if I take these off?” Rough fingertips pinched at the waistband of your pants and underwear. Getting an enthusiastic nod and a small, raspy ‘yes’ in response, the Mandalorian pulled both articles of clothing off of your lower half. 

He focused his strokes near the tip of his cock. The nerves in the head of his shaft sent electric currents through his body. Normally his self-pleasure sessions weren’t this intense, but you did something to him. You were special. Better than any brothel service. Any piece of pornography. You were gorgeous. Beautiful. Mesh’la. 

He thought of dipping his fingers into your slit. Hopefully, that would pull another gasp from you. Every breathy exhale and pleasured sound only increased his need to hear them more frequently. Starting with one finger, his fingertip would push into your entrance. He’d go slow at first, pumping in and out of your wet sex knuckle by knuckle. Mando would give you some time to adjust to the feeling, and then increase his pace. Moans and gasps fell from your lips much more frequently than before. Your pussy was soaked from just a few fast strokes from his thick finger. If you were comfortable with it, he’d slip another finger alongside the singular one. His pace slowly increased to resume the speed that had your back and shaking legs pressed against his. 

“Ohhh, Ma- Mando-o,” would quietly cry from your throat.

“Fucckkk,” Mando said under his helmet.

Wet sounds emanated from the action of stroking his rough grip up and down his thick shaft. Underneath the helmet, he bit his lip in frustration. He already imagined you could feel heavenly around his fingers, but he needed to feel your slick walls around his cock.

First he would make you cum with his fingers. The orgasm would send you reeling back into his hold. You’d be a shaking and stuttering mess, reaching for one of his broad hands and lacing your fingers between his. An effective way to ground yourself.

“Good girl,” he’d praise.

After you came down from your high, his strong arms would bring you to lay down long ways on the mattress. Parting your legs once more, Mando’s broad hips settled between yours. Glistening folds were presented to him at the center of his vision. You looked delicious. He wished to taste you, but his need to fuck you overtook the pleads from his tastebuds.

His thumb rubbed slow circles on the bundle of nerves between your legs. Your sparkling eyes would meet the gaze behind his visor and your brows would furrow in desperation. He’d do anything you wanted. Anything to please you. 

“What do you want, mesh’la?” His gravelly voice echoed throughout the small bunk.

You’d bite your lip, shyness creeping over your face, but you overcame the feeling. He loved it when you were confident in asking for something from him. “I want you to fuck me,” you requested.

Mando let out a strangled groan at his thought of the words. He loved knowing that you wanted him. He loved when you voiced your desires, sexual or not. Your comfort in his presence was the most potent aphrodisiac Mando could consume. The tip of his cock throbbed at the thought, and his thumb reached up to attempt to sooth the sensation. Bare hips bucked into the air at the touch.

He would line his hips up with yours and prod the wide head of his shaft against your wet entrance. Before pushing in, he reached towards a cabinet to produce his bottle of lube. Mando quickly spread a generous amount over the veiny surface of his cock. As much as he wanted to fuck you, your comfort was his upmost priority. Giving himself a few strokes with his large grip–your eyes trained on his hands–he lowered his hips once more. The T of his helmet stared into your face as he slowly pushed into you. 

Your jaw would drop, just like it did in the reflection on his chest plate. The slick walls of your pussy hugged his thick cock, making his jaw drop in unison.

His wide hand tightened around his hardness. Each stroke had him fucking himself into his grip. Mando’s jaw clenched in concentration, the combination of his hand and thoughts of you were furthering him closer and closer to the edge.

The Mandalorian nearly collapsed on top of you, but he caught himself on his elbows, caging you in his hold. Silver beskar making up his helmet hovered over your face, his eyes trained on yours. A whimper escaped from your throat when the head of his cock brushed against a particular spot. He honed into the point and hit it repeatedly, with precision. 

Your fingers dug into his bare back, most likely leaving crescent marks in their wake. He dropped his helmet into the crook of your neck. The action allowed him to hear every sound you made. Sometimes simple breathy moans, interrupted by his slow, yet strong thrusts. Other times, you’d attempt sentences:

“Ma- Mando. Maker, you feel so good.”

“K-kriff you’re b-big.”

“Mm-mm-mm, don’t, stop.”

A knot coiled in the pit of Mando’s stomach. He threw his head back into a plush pillow and focused his grip towards the tip of his cock. Quiet, slick sounds filled the space of the metal-lined bunk. His breath quickened as his imagination delved deeper.

Mando’s thrusts slowed to a near halt as he raised an arm and propped an elbow to hit a switch on the wall. The space went dark. Everything went silent.

Hiss.

Tunk.

In a hurry, he muttered, “can I kiss you, baby?”

Instead of replying in words, you craned your neck to meld your plush lips with his. Delightful needles ran up and down Mando’s body in pleasure. In disbelief. Feeling your lips on his was something he’s only dreamt of, knowing that completing the action would be a risk to his Creed.

But at this moment, Creed be damned, he craved the motions of your mouth against his. Fighting and expressing a bond that he longed for, slick lips slid against each other in a battle of lust-influenced emotions. Mando pushed his tongue into your mouth, and in the same motion, pushed his cock further into your wet heat.

His mouth swallowed your moans as he rutted the head of his cock against the particularly sensitive spot within your walls. The grip you had on his broad back became stronger. Skin against his hips brushed against the skin of your inner thighs, and your legs captured his body closer to yours. Lips tightened against his, shifting into a portrayal of pleasure, leaving you unable to kiss him properly. In response, the Mandalorian buried his head into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses along your skin.

Almost there. Jaw clenched and teeth gritting, Mando fucked into his fist at a brutal pace. Soft pants accompanied the slick sounds in filling the space of his bunk. Maker, he hoped you were asleep. He didn’t know how much louder he’d get, and more importantly, how much control he had over his volume.

Unable to maintain a steady grip on his back any longer, your grasp traveled to the soft, wavy locks of his hair. The Mandalorian groaned. He didn’t realize how much he craved that simple contact, one many took for granted. Your fingertips massaged his scalp, and it was as if you massaged all of his worrisome, negative thoughts away. 

“Oh, kriff Mando, keep going. F-fuck, you make me feel s-so good.”

A few more firm, yet gentle thrusts of his cock made you squeeze your soaking walls around his shaft. His balls felt heavy against your ass. He knew he was close.

“Mando, oh, oh, Mando, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out, the sound filled his ears as he continued his pace and his languid kisses against your neck.

Mando squeezed his eyes shut. Teeth dug into the thin skin of his lower lip, the hairs of his mustache tickled the skin directly below his lip. Large hands maintained the quick pace along the silky skin of his cock. Just a few more strokes and he was done for.

A knot twisted and turned in the pit of his stomach, and he fucked into your glistening seam with more vigor. Your moans became strangled whines. Each escaping gasp climbed octaves until you finally snapped and clamp your pussy around his cock.

“I’m cumming, oh fuck. Oh, Din!”

The Mandalorian snarled as thick streams of cum erupted from the head of his cock. Translucent, white liquid covered his stomach and chest. His head spun as the waves of pleasure washed over him. The sensations dug themselves deep into his bones and he felt like he was floating. A cloud of ecstasy trapped him and he didn’t want to leave. Seeking to draw his orgasm out longer, he continued fucking his hand until the sensations became too much. Mando’s chest dramatically rose and fell in the aftermath. Panting, he looked down at the mess he made on himself.

That was the strongest orgasm he’d ever had.

Reaching towards a different cabinet, he grabbed a soft towel and began wiping up his mess. Thoughts rushed throughout his mind, in contrast from his usual mindset after masturbating. In the chorus of wandering thoughts that still occupied his mind, one made itself bold and prominent.

Maker, he needs to ask you on a date.

–

Mando stood a meter or two in front of you. His hands hung uselessly by his sides. Posture slightly askew, you could sense he was doubting himself. Thick fingers played with the strings on the bracelet while he waited for your response.

Your jaw went slack, eyes widened. So you weren’t crazy. Everything added up. He made caf for you every morning. The small ‘good nights’ he gave you every night. The even smaller ones with an added word in Mando’a, one he never said around you. The things he told you, about his son, about his feelings, that he never said to anyone else. How he was careful around you, trying not to look intimidating. He tried to make you comfortable at all times.

He cared just like you cared.

You placed one foot in front of the other, giving Mando time to back up if he wanted. He remained in place as he waited for your approach. The armored man stood like a statue in the hull. The beskar and the metal of the Crest became one. If you didn’t focus on him too much, he almost looked like a statue erected in the middle of the hull. As the toes of your boots met the toes of his, you snaked your arms around his waist and pressed your head to his chestplate.

Mando instantly wrapped you up in his solid arms. His helmet was buried into the crook of your neck, the cold metal delightfully stung your skin, and he squeezed you. The Mandalorian’s large hands ran up and down your back as his hold refused to let you go.

You didn’t want to let him go either. Your body sought fusion with his warmth, with his being. All of the comfort he provided. All of the safety that he gave you. It seeped through his body to yours. A sense of peace washed over you.

Mando’s helmet shifted towards your head more, the modulator crackling near your ear, “Is it safe to say we feel the same?” His broad hand continued to rub along your back. The warmth from his palm created the most soothing sensation you’ve experienced. Bringing yourself out of the state of bliss to recognize the question he was asking, your brows furrowed. He almost sounded uncertain of himself, voice tinged with hope.

You leaned backwards to look into his visor. A Mandalorian. The Mandalorian. Sworn to a creed of combat and honor. Mando didn’t have a problem taking down a dozen people at a time, but confessing his feelings to you made him nervous. A small chuckle escaped from your chest at the realization.

The corners of your eyes crinkled from your laughter. His helmet tilted in confusion. “Yes, Mando, we feel the same.” You raised a hand to hold the crook of his neck, rubbing your thumb along the fabric of his cowl.

He pulled you into another hug, this one with more space between the two of you, so he could look down and into your eyes. Your hands rested on his chest plate, and his rested on your waist. A rumbling feeling against your hands made your head tilt in confusion this time. Mando continued to clear his throat. His breaths got slightly quicker.

“I feel like I need to explain th-,” the Mandalorian cleared his throat once again, “I need to explain the condoms.”

Your eyes widened. He doesn’t have to explain himself, but if he wasn’t going to the brothel, why did he need them? Mando only expressed interest in you, as far as you know.

Oh.

Oh.

The beskar-clad man’s chest rose and fell with a deep inhale and exhale, preparing himself for explaining the condoms on the receipt from the market.

“I was going to ask you out on a date. Just something simple,” he shrugged and brought his covered eyes to meet yours, “I bought your favorite snacks, got us some takeout, and I was going to give you the bracelet then. I just wanted to be prepared in case anything…escalated.” 

Cheeks burning, you took Mando’s hands into yours. You smirked and gave him a light chuckle. “You would try to fuck me on the first date, Mando?”

He looked down at the floor of the hull and shook his head. “I’d only do what you’re comfortable with,” he said, giving your hands a squeeze. 

“You also don’t even know if I would have said yes to a date,” you teased him.

A low rumble resonated from his chest, he hooked a finger through one of your belt loops to pull you closer. “I think I might have made a fair assumption.”

Hands glided up Mando’s chest, and you clasped them behind his neck. “You’ll never know unless you ask…” Another rumble came from his chest. A hand snaked its way from your waist to your chin. Mando’s index finger and thumb grabbed your chin and made you look at him face-to-face. 

“Well, would you like to go on a date with me?” The beskar helmet tilted and gleamed in the faint lights of the Crest’s hull. 

“Yes, Mando, of course I do.” Your eyes took after Mando’s helmet and they gleamed with joy. The dull silver of the hull starkly contrasted your excitement. Warmth between the two of you radiated and exploded throughout the space. Your energies seeped into the metal of the Crest just as your feelings seeped into each other's consciousness.

Mando’s large hand returned to rub long lines up and down your back. “I got your favorite snacks, some takeout…” He reminded you as his speech trailed off.

“How soon can we go on the date?” You asked eagerly in response. Snacks, takeout, and Mando sounded like the perfect combination. A perfect way to turn around the anxious thoughts that clouded your mind not even an hour ago.

“We can do it now…?” Mando suggested slowly.

“Yes! Yes please!” You bounced in place and threw your arms around the Mandalorian. He reciprocated your hug with an even tighter squeeze and pulled away from you.

“Let me find a good place to park the Crest,” Mando walked away and climbed the ladder to the cockpit. You went to follow him, but he turned and stopped you at the base of the ladder. “You stay down here, it’s going to be a surprise.” Before you could respond he bounded up the ladder and began takeoff.

–

Mando pressed his vambrace and the ramp slowly revealed the market in the distance. Lights flashed and others were lit in different colors. Rolling hills were lit up by the faint glow. The sun was fully set, which allowed the sky to display an array of stars.

“This is beautiful, Mando.” You turned towards the man in silver and he wasn't looking at the sky. Not looking at the gorgeous colors streaking out from the center of the market, onto the landscape. Not even the different lights and colors that lit the small town.

His gaze was focused on you.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” He took a few steps closer to you with the market bag, a blanket, and two pillows in hand. Stepping in front of you, he laid out the blanket where the hull’s floor meets the ramp. Reaching into the market bag, he took out an assortment of snacks and a takeout meal for each of you.

“Mando, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you chuckled in amazement.

“I didn’t have to, yes. But I wanted to,” he bends down to sit on the blanket and he offers a hand to help you down. You took it and plopped down next to him, your thigh brushed his as you reached for different food items. Mando leaned on his arms placed behind him, watching in amusement as you enjoyed yourself.

The assortment he managed to purchase amazed you. Each item was something you’ve mentioned to him before. A shiny bag of one particular food, a box filled with something else, and a steaming takeout container of another dish. Relishing the diversity of it all, thoughts of Mando’s enjoyment prodded your mind.

You turn to him, “Aren’t you going to eat?” 

His helmet turned towards you and he waited a second. The helmet. No kriff, he can’t eat with you.

“I’m sorry, I for-.” Mando stopped you.

“You know I don’t mind when you eat in front of me,” he started.

He was right. You felt bad in the mornings when you sipped on your caf and indulged in your breakfast. He was probably hungry after a night’s rest. The Mandalorian told you at the time, “I’m used to it. Mandalorians never bonded over food or eating.”

Expecting the same reasoning to leave his mouth and filter through the helmet, you were shocked when he chose a different path.

“I’ve been planning this for a while, mesh’la,” he paused and adjusted his positioning on the ground, “I’ve been thinking of ways to eat with you…” He explained, and then trailed off. 

He’s been thinking of ways to eat with you. To eat. With you. Something he’s never done with you before. In the past, you’ve tried to get him to, even saying you’d wear a blindfold, but he never wanted to take that step.

And what does mesh’la mean?

“You don’t have to, I understand if-.” You began to tell him.

“I think I found a way that I would be comfortable with,” Mando said.

“What is–. Oh, Maker!” You squealed as Mando scooped you up and placed you in his lap. Your back to him and your legs tangled with his. As soon as you settled, the Mandalorian took his takeout container and brought it between your back and his stomach. 

“There’s one rule,” his modulator crackles in your ear as he rests the temple of his helmet against your actual temple, “you can’t turn around.”

“I won’t,” you squeaked, heart beating out of your chest, “I swear to you.” 

The cold feeling of the beskar disappeared from the side of your head. What you didn’t expect was the hiss of the helmet breaking its seal around Mando’s head, even though it was implied. What you definitely didn’t expect was for Mando to place the helmet just enough forward that you could see it in your peripheral as you ate.

You forgot Mando was a human. He had a head and a face. And his face was not the one that peaked at you from the corner of your eye. His face is the one directly behind your head.

The popping sounds of the food container being opened snapped you out of your thoughts. Mando’s utensils clinked against the sides of the container as he gathered food to put into his mouth. 

“Mmmm,” he grunts out, his mouth probably full of food. A few more seconds went by, “that’s really good.”

His voice.

His unmodulated voice.

It was like honey dripped over your body. Soaked through your skin and traveled through your veins. Soothed you. The warmth between you two increased yet again. Not just physical warmth, but the warmth you felt when you discovered new things about each other. When you discover new ways to care and new things to remember.

“What’s on your mind?” His large, calloused hand found the crook of your knee and gave it a light squeeze. His other hand set his empty food container to the side. That was fast, you thought. But you suppose he eats for business, not for pleasure.

“What does mesh’la mean?” You asked him as you marveled at the sight of the market again. His knees pressed into yours and the hand not on your knee snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. 

He tucked his face into the crook of your neck. His breath fanned over your ear and he tightened his arm around you as he spoke, “Mesh’la is Mando’a,” he hummed as he pecked a quick kiss onto your neck, “Mesh’la means beautiful.” 

You smiled, face heating up, and hummed another question, “and what does cyar’ika mean?”

Mando buried his face into the back of your hair and left another quick peck on your head. He pulled away to mutter near your ear, “Cyar’ika roughly translates to sweetheart.”

Your torso vibrated against his, that’s really sweet, you thought, but you wanted to tease him a bit, “First date and you’re already calling me beautiful, huh? And you’ve been calling me cyar’ika for a while now.” A smirk splayed across your face.

The Mandalorian went stiff and asked, “For a while?” Confusion radiated from him and his beskar.

Your smirk morphed into a small smile. “Sometimes I wait up for you when you go on hunts, or I happen to be awake when you come back,” your heartbeat picks up at your confession, but you continued, “I like hearing you say good night to me. It’s…comforting. But then you started tacking ‘cyar’ika’ onto the end of it.” You shrugged like it was nothing.

Mando shifted underneath you, realizing he’d been caught red handed. Then he countered with, “One year of being crew partners and you’re already planning matching bracelets, huh?”

He got you there.

Softly giggling, you reach an arm backwards and bat a hand at his chest, playfully tapping him. A chuckle comes from behind your head. His hold around your waist fastens and he brings his wrist donning the bracelet out in front of you. He wraps his large hand around yours, the one with your bracelet on your wrist. You peer down and admire the identical weavings of thread.

Mando’s throat clears behind you and he speaks softly next to your ear, “I think you have good taste. It matches my armor,” his knee comes up to nudge yours. A moment of silence followed, “The green is for my son, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” meekly comes from your throat. The broad grasp covering your own gave your hand a squeeze. Mando rested his chin on your shoulder and faced the crook of your neck. Soft breaths fanned over your exposed skin.

“Did I get his color right?” You questioned. He previously said Grogu was a light green color, and you hoped the color on the bracelets mimicked his color.

The Mandalorian brought your joined hands up to focus on the color of the light green thread weaving from between the silver and brown. When he spoke, his tone sounded strained, “Yeah, yeah that’s probably it.”

When Mando last spoke to you about his son, he said it’s been a year or so since he gave them to the Jedi. A year without his little one, the bundle of joy that Mando cherished. Then the reason for his uncertain answer and strained voice washed over you.

“You,” an exhale steadied your soft speech, “You can’t remember his color that well, can you?”

A shaking breath made the man’s torso shudder against yours, “No, I can’t,” he admitted in a tight voice. His face pressed deeper into the crook of your neck and he held you close to his chest. You rubbed circles along the back of his hand in comfort. Hesitantly, you brought your other hand behind you and ran your fingers through his hair.

The texture of it made your heart melt. It was longer than you thought it’d be, you assumed he would keep it short so it didn’t bother him within the confines of his helmet. Soft waves brushed through your fingers. Your fingertips lightly scratched at the roots of his hair on his scalp.

You thought your heart melted, but Mando melted exponentially more. The large frame that was his body nearly crushed yours with the tension he released. A soft groan left his throat and vibrated against your neck. Mando’s body loosely wrapped around yours in a protective shell.

“I was hoping that the green on the bracelet would make you think of him. It could make you remember,” you explained to him, continuing the scratches against his scalp.

Then it was silent. Sounds of your exhales and the small rustling sounds of your fingers through his waves of hair were the only ones that traveled to your ear drums. The Mandalorian was heavy against you, boneless, acting as a beskar-weighted blanket. His warmth permeated from his body to yours. It was comforting. He was comforting.

Then a sharp inhale from Mando, “I have to thank you,” he began.

You nearly snapped around to respond, but you kept your gaze trained on the twinkling lights of the market. “For what?” You asked.

“For everything,” he added.

Was Mando really giving you a job review right now? On your first date? “Mando,” you chuckled and shook your head, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’m not talking about the job, cyar’ika.”

Your eyes widened. Oh. No words exited your mouth.

Mando continued, “I need to thank you for making me feel safe. You’re, you ju–,” he sighed in annoyance with himself. “I’m sorry. I’m not too good at this.” His strong arms gave your waist a squeeze. 

Before you could reply, he resumed his train of thought. “You make me feel emotionally safe. I know I can tell you anything. Share whatever is on my mind. And you’ll be there for me,” a deep inhale interrupted his speech, “and I haven’t had that since I had Grogu.” 

His tone was strained once again and he shook his head while it was nestled near your neck. Gaining composure, he explained, “People look at me and see this bloodthirsty Mandalorian. They’re scared of me. Kriff, I’m sure some have mistaken me for some emotionless droid,” his speech snarled at the word.

You smirked at his distaste for the metal beings, but you didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts with a snide remark.

“But you see me as human. As a man with emotions and thoughts. You talk to me like I’m just a guy that happens to be covered in beskar.”

That was where you butted in, “Because that’s what you are Mando. And you’re not just some guy. You’re a Mandalorian, an actual one, the ones that no one seems to recognize today. Mandalorians are bound to a Creed of honor. Mandalorians stick to their word. They rescue. They protect. They care,” you paused to grasp the hand laying on top of yours, “You’ve told me enough about your Creed for me to realize that very little of it is truly about being solely physically and mentally intelligent. It’s about the combination of those strengths with emotional intelligence. Because what is using your head if you aren’t using your heart too?”

Mando was silent behind you. His body was stiff, no longer relaxed. Shit, did you offend him? You weren’t Mandalorian, should you have been interpreting the Creed?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be analyzing your Creed like that. I’m not Ma-”

“No,” he stopped your speech, and resumed his, the baritone of his voice being small within his throat, “You got it all right.” Strong arms squeezed you. Mando held onto you as if someone threatened to take you from him. His face returned to its spot by your neck and he whispered, “Maker, you’re perfect.”

The words sent chills down your spine. Before you could fully relish in the implications of his phrase, small kisses were being planted up and down the curve of your neck. Eyelids closed, you bit your lip at the brushes of his lips against your skin. No longer distracted by the visuals of the market lights, your attention focused on the feeling of his face on your neck. Soft lips meticulously placed pecks up your neck. His face slid against your warm skin, leaving a prickling sensation in its wake.

Prickling…your eyes widened and you straightened up, just slightly.

Mando froze in his tracks, voice laced with concern, “you okay?” 

You cleared your throat and let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, yeah, I just,” your body vibrated against his as you chuckled again, “I just realized you have facial hair,” you explained as your face heated up. Half in embarrassment of not realizing earlier, and half in excitement. You loved facial hair.

“Oh. Yeah,” he hesitated, “do you not like it? I can shave if you-.”

You stopped him before he could finish, “No! No, I mean. I like facial hair,” you explained sheepishly.

A smirk grew on Mando’s face, and you didn’t even have to see him to know it was there. Stubble prickled on the skin of your neck once again. This time, the man rubbed his face across the slope in front of him in an attempt to tickle you.

A giggle bubbled out of your chest and you twisted in his hold. The fanning of his breath over your neck created a delicious warmth on your skin. Warmth that soothed the pin pricks from the man’s stubble. Mando’s trunk-like arms caged you in and kept you tight in his grasp. He stopped after only a few seconds, placing soft kisses on the skin that he just scratched.

The kisses down your neck became more intense. Mando would graze his teeth against your skin and tighten his hold around you. The small marks trailed further down your neckline. Receiving the trail of small marks felt like a dream. Each mark gave you a slight pinch, sending your hips rocking backwards to grind against him. 

A soft moan left Mando’s lips and vibrated against the skin of your neck. His grip tightened near your waist and brought your hips closer to his groin. Soft lips returned to your neck, the other side this time, and began placing small hickeys down your skin. One place in particular, where your jawbone meets your neck beneath your ear, sent your ass grinding down into his lap. 

Then you feel him.

And you kind of freak out.

He’s big.

Were you ready for this? Of course you’ve dreamt about it, you kriffing came to the thought of it, but the opportunity overwhelmed you. Your mind raced. You felt like you didn’t consider all of the factors that went into this. 

Sure, you’ve had sex before, but what if you weren’t good enough for Mando? You’re still clothed and he already has you hot and bothered. You haven’t done anything to him yet. You had to do something or else you’re going to be a dead fish in bed. Were you ready to actually do something with him?

Your hips stilled, and of course Mando noticed.

His actions also paused, “You okay, cyar’ika?” He asks softly. Mando’s words make their home in your heart and you melt. You are okay. You’re with him. But being with him made you anxious. Mando didn’t deserve to put up with shitty sex.

“I just,” you paused and shifted in Mando’s lap, “I think I need to lie down,” you lied to him. He quickly reached for his helmet and sealed it back around his head. The pair of you organized the garbage and the remaining snacks, quickly getting ready for bed.

–

You were almost there. You could’ve done it. You dreamt about it for months and yet you chickened out. His hands were right there, and you got up and went to bed. Dank farrick.

Mulling over your thoughts, you laid on your bed and stared at the ceiling of the Crest’s hull. You could masturbate to the thought of him again, sure, but it just wouldn’t compare. The thoughts of Mando’s hands, his broad chest pressed against your back, the warmth of his legs wrapped around yours haunted your consciousness and refused to allow you to fall asleep. 

It was only amplified by the thought Mando put into the date.

“I’ve been planning this for a while.” He said.

How long? He happened to get your favorite snacks, your favorite takeout, he went back to get the bracelets, and he parked the Crest to get an amazing view of the light-filled market. Mando put all this thought into the date and he made some moves on you.

Your heart and clit were beating at the same loud pace. 

In an attempt to focus on something other than the ghost of Mando’s hard-on on your lower back, you opened a side door and exited the Crest. The door opened and closed quietly with your careful treatment of the doorknob.

The market is still it up beautifully, projecting the colored waves of light onto the surrounding hills. You sat just a few feet away from the Crest, knees tucked up towards your chest, your chin resting on your kneecaps. After a couple minutes of sitting outside, you found that the best way to distract yourself was trying to count all of the different vendors you could see. The lights made it difficult to distinguish one stall from another, and it didn’t help that the market was sizable. 

Forty four, forty five, forty six…

“Do you mind if I join you?” The voice came from the exact man you were trying not to think about. But he was also the exact man you wanted.

You looked back towards him and patted the ground beside you. He accepted your silent invitation and plopped his body down next to yours. A breeze swept through the night landscape and left you covered in goosebumps, slightly shivering. Mando must have noticed, since he draped his long, black cape over your shivering frame. His arm followed the embrace of the cape and pulled you closer towards his heat-radiating body. The other arm snaked under your legs and he barely lifted you, so you settled into the shape of his body. Just like Mando’s cape, silence fell over the both of you. His grip around you remained tight while he did his best to warm you up.

“Why are you sitting out here?” He whispered to you. The helmet crinkled his voice, resulting in the crackling of the syllables. Delicacy laced the syllables that flowed into your ears, despite their choppiness. 

Your shoulders rose and fell and you followed it with a sigh, “I was just thinking too much. Couldn’t fall asleep.”

The shoulder leaning against Mando vibrated when he hummed in understanding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered.

Your head fell to his shoulder to rest. The pair of you talked about a good majority of things. Whatever ended up on your or Mando’s mind. You found it to be a great stress reliever and knew that the Mandalorian did as well. If you didn’t get it out, by talking to Mando, the regretful feeling would just ruminate in your brain forever. At this point you highly doubted that this was a conversation topic that could cause Mando’s feelings about you to change.

“I just feel dumb.” You deadpanned.

“Dumb? Why’s that?” He responded immediately.

You paused and considered your choice of words. Being blunt was probably the best course of action. It was Mando after all.

“You wanted to do more with me and I rejected you,” you sighed and pressed your face into his shoulder.

Another quick response followed, “That’s completely okay. You don’t have to do something just because I want to do it. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I meant what I said. We’re only going to do what you–.” 

Your head left his shoulder and faced his helmet to look into the depths of the thin black line running horizontally across the beskar. His speech stopped at your action.

“I wanted to do it. I wanted you to do it,” you admit.

Mando’s bones turned to jelly beneath you–you didn’t realize how tense he had gotten–and yet his helmet tilted in confusion.

Before he could ask the question, you answered, “I was nervous. I haven’t done anything like that in a while. Maybe I wasn’t going to be good in bed.” Your face returned to his shoulder to nestle itself into the crook of his neck.

His embrace tightens around you once more. The T shaped gaze dropped to meet yours and he shook his head from side-to-side.

“Cyar’ika,” his chest jumps from a chuckle, “all you have to do to be good in bed is lay on the mattress,” he slowly grits out. His voice is so smooth you’re surprised his speech is still modulated. Still in doubt, the corner of your mouth pinched upward and your brows bunched together.

He noticed the uncertainty of your expression and slowly added, “I also haven’t done anything like this in awhile,” a pause was accompanied by the shaking of his head and a harsh exhale, “and I’m kriffing nervous too.” 

A small smile spread across your face at the confession. It did make you feel better. He was going through the same emotions you were. The somersaults of butterflies that wound your stomach into knots. Lightheadedness that flooded through your bodies at the sight of the other. Your emotions were so strong, these physical responses accompanied them.

The Mandalorian’s actions put you in a state of awe for the trillionth time. He does things that would make you freeze, panic, scream for help, for his help. Physical conflict was like breathing to him. It was involuntary. Completed without thought.

So many nerves bubbled within him. All because of you. All he had to do was confess his feelings to you and his composure shattered into a million pieces.

A million pieces you would pick up and put back together. You would reassemble the puzzle that was Mando over and over again. If it meant spending time with him, you would do it for eternity. Each time finding a new piece, a new feature to treasure and combine with the rest. 

Mando continued to hold your body and your gaze. The combination of him and his cape have warmed you up considerably, and you find yourself being languidly pulled closer into his torso. Your butt settled between his two thick thighs. Both of your thighs settled on top of one of his. The warmth and physical contact was appreciated, and you rested your head on the Mandalorian’s shoulder once more. 

You’re quite literally being cradled by him. One of his toned arms finds its way behind your back to keep your torso against his. The other arm found its way to your knees, holding you closer to him as much as possible. A gloved hand runs up and down your thigh once he’s satisfied with the method of cuddling. 

The friction his leather hand creates on your thigh is delicious. Every bit of heat from the contact is being transported throughout your body. You felt heavy and relaxed. But the heat from his hand turned into a burning need. The strokes up and down your thigh got riskier. His hand made its way farther up your thigh. Thick fingers splayed across your clothed limb, the wide spread covered more surface area, which drove the heat from his touch right to your clit. On some strokes, his thumb would graze the inside of your thigh. Almost there, but not close enough.

Bathing in the warmth of his touch, you didn’t realize your eye contact with Mando was maintained. He must have noticed your expressions morph into ones that you make when deep in thought. His thumb grazed the inside of your thigh once more, and you bit your lip at the tingly sensation on your bundle of nerves.

That’s all he needed to see what was on your mind. Still maintaining eye contact, his hand stopped on your upper thigh. Mando’s grip gently tightened as he spoke. The modulated voice sailed across a smooth sea of honey as he laid out his words.

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. Anything, mesh’la.”

You got your do-over. There’s no way you’d reject him now.

The bone of your teeth grazed your lip. Eyes closed, you took a deep breath and gained some composure. Mando’s helmet filled your vision once you opened your eyes. His chest rose and fell in anticipation.

A small smile made its way onto your face. “Can you pick up where we left off?” You suggested.

Rumbling emanated from his chest, his grips on your back and your thigh tightened in delight. He pulled you closer to him in a hug and buried his modulator near your ear.

“Here or in the Crest?”

“Crest.”

The beskar man helped you onto your feet and led you back inside of the Crest. Once the door was shut and locked, and once Mando triple-checked the security systems, he sauntered over to you. His hands found their way to your waist as he pushed you back in the direction of his bunk. 

His bunk.

Before you could fully process it, you were lying on the long bed watching Mando as he stood, removing his armor from his body piece by piece. Just his flight suit remained on his large frame. He hardly gave you time to admire him before he sat beside you and pulled you into his lap once more. The Mandalorian’s hands–now bare–settled back into their previous positions. 

Feeling more confident than you were before, you leaned into his neck and placed light kisses along the curve. A deep groan rumbled from his chest and his hands ran up and down your body. You playfully bit the skin of his neck and sucked, bringing a hand up to rest on his neck to keep it in place. Your hickey-like kisses trailed upwards towards his jaw. Once you met the juncture where his neck met his jawbone, you sucked on his skin harder and left a light mark. 

He loved that. The grip on your thighs and waist became impossibly tight as he growled. Every noise that escaped from his helmet went straight to your clit. Your hips ground downwards onto his thigh, but to no avail. A look of desire painted your face but a sound of frustration–desperation–left your mouth.

Mando hummed in agreement. The low tone through the modulator questioned you, “Where do you want me to touch you first, mesh’la?”

You turned into a puddle. A horny, wet, puddle.

“I’ll do anything.” He said conclusively. 

Biting your lip, your brows furrowed in delight at the sensation of his grip. The hand on your thigh was higher up your thigh than any time before. Warmth from his palm traveled from the neurons in your quads to the nerves in your clit.

“Rub my clit? Please?” you asked. Desperation leaked from your mouth at the request. If Mando didn’t put his hands down your bottoms in the next thirty seconds, you were sure you were going to explode.

Mando’s chest vibrated as he chuckled, “Mmmm. I like it when you ask nicely. Good girl.”

Oh. Fuck.

You were molten beskar in his hands, at his forge. You trusted him. His skill. His knowledge of you. His perceived obligation to you. And you were ready to be shaped. Molded. Created into something new. With his support. 

His stare remained on your face as his fingertips found your clothed clit. You tensed at the contact and his motions slowed. 

“That alright?” He asked, concern melded to the grit of the voice that left the modulator.

A confirming hum vibrated from your throat. Your nod accompanied the sound.

“Have to hear you say it.” He responded. At first you thought he was teasing you, but the tone he used and the intense stare that was glued to your face said otherwise. 

“I need to and I want to make sure you’re alright every step of the way, yeah?”

You nodded up at him.

“Good,” he reacted to your body language, “then be a good girl and tell me if this is okay. Tell me how it feels.” His voice dropped incredibly low with his demand. It was gentle, but firm.

A shaky exhale escaped from your mouth as you whispered your reply, “I-I want you to keep going. It feels so good.” Wide eyes looked up at Mando and he continued his motions.

The friction of his fingers on your clothed clit was delicious. Each movement sent sparks up and down your limbs. Your head fell to rest on Mando’s shoulder as he maintained his pace. His gaze remained glued to yours. 

Then you realized he was wearing too many clothes. The friction against your clit was amazing, but you wanted as little friction as possible between your bodies. Reaching down, your fingers tugged on the edge of Mando’s shirt.

“Can I take this off?” You asked.

“Of course,” he replied. Thick fingers deftly undid the buttons at the top of his shirt and you aided him in pulling it over his head. The tight long sleeved layer was removed in the same fashion. Mando’s chest, littered with dark hairs, filled your vision. Broad plains of skin rose and fell, making his pecs stand out on his chest. Strong shoulders that framed his chest only made his body look wider.

While you were gawking at him, Mando slid his hands partially under your shirt and around your waist. His fingertips pinched at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He echoed your previous question.

You nodded and muttered, “yes,” in response, helping him pull the fabric over your head. 

His fingers became more confident and he applied more pressure, quickening the strokes of his fingertips over your clothed bundle. Your jaw dropped in response. As you returned Mando’s stare, your eyelids drifted downwards over your eyes, but not all the way. Your breaths were more audible, bordering on being moans.

Mando seemed to love your reactions, the hand you placed on his neck rumbled as he let out a guttural moan. He picked up his pace in response. The clothing between your bundle of nerves and his fingers created the perfect friction. Wetness pooled in your underwear with the increasing speed of the Mandalorian’s thick fingers.

Then his digits left your clit.

You let out a slight whine, disappointed at the loss of his touch. Before you could question him, his fingers dipped just below your waistband. Not enough to really feel anything. Just enough to make a point.

Making eye contact with Mando, his visor tilted in questioning.

“Can I pull these down?” He asked gruffly.

You nod at him, knowing your gaze is burning into his from behind his beskar. 

“Do it,” you half demand, half plead, “it feels so good when you touch me.”

His helmet drops next to your temple in reaction to your words. A crackle escapes the modulator with his harsh exhale. Without hesitation, his hand slid down past your waistband and brought your bottoms with it. Mando threw them to the side and slipped his hand down your underwear. His fingers easily found the pressure point of pleasure past your mound.

You thought the feeling over your clothes was delicious. The feeling of his bare hands on your bare clit was divine. Nothing could replicate the feeling. Nothing came close to the sensations he willed your body to produce. The sensations he produced with just his fingertips.

Mando resumed the slow pace he set previously. He was testing the waters, seeing if the feeling was just as good before. Your hips bucked up into his hand and another exhale left his helmet, this one quicker.

“Mmmm, okay, okay,” the modulator let out a soft understanding.

His fingers sped up to reach the fast pace he had set over your clothed clit. This time, the feeling was a thousand times more potent. The fibers facilitated most of your pleasure before, but now it was all Mando. Rough skin on his fingertips, created by years of pulling triggers and colliding fists, produced amazing friction. A feeling so electrifying you swore you could feel every ridge and valley of his fingerprints.

Your cunt squeezed around nothing and you mewled in desperation. Mando’s helmet still stung your temple with the cool temperature of the metal. His breathing was heavy, arm stiff, making sure your pleasure was maintained.

One circle around your bundle. Then another. And another. The pleasure was phenomenal, which caused your wetness to leak from your hole.

Mando looked down and groaned at the sight.

“Ffuucckk. So wet for me.” He gritted out, continuing the pace of his fingertips around your nub.

Your hips attempted to follow his motions to make more friction, but to no avail. Mando’s fingers were amazing, but his digits just on your clit weren't how you wanted to cum.

The sentence flowed through your brain: “Have to hear you say it.”

Before when you were sitting in Mando’s lap, his fingers inching towards your waistband, you didn’t know if you were ready. You didn’t know if you would be enough. Hesitation blocked your desire and you worried about taking too much and giving too little.

But now you wanted it all. 

Everything you thought about before. His hands. His fingers. His lips. His unmodulated voice. His cock.

You needed it.

It was as if Mando had a switch to turn you off and on. The motions of his fingers wavered your switch off and on, and your confidence flickered on. No more shyness. You had to be direct, and then you would get what you were desperate for.

“Mando…mmmm…M-Mando,” you attempted your request.

His fingers slowed, his attention divided between your speech and your clit. “Yes, cyar’ika?” His grip on your back tightened, indicating that he was listening.

You bit your lip in nervousness, but mustered up the confidence to finally say what you needed, “I want you to f-finger me,” you said between waves of pleasure.

Mando stopped altogether and dipped his fingers lower, edging his reach towards your hole. One finger prodded at your entrance and that feeling alone made you squirm.

More liquid seeped from your seams and your thoughts returned to the ones you had earlier today. You wanted to kiss him. So badly. 

Biting your lip at the thought, you accidentally stuttered out, “I-I w-want.” You realized your request was ridiculous and buried your face in his shoulder, acting as though nothing ever left your lips.

His fingers trailed upwards along your wetness and then back down, hesitating before he began your request. Confused, you brought your head up to look at him.

“What do you want, baby?”

Baby.

Kriff.

You shook your head, “It’s nothing.”

His helmet tilted in a, “I know you’re lying,” type of way. “It isn’t nothing, and we both know it,” he gently reasoned. A large hand ran up and down your back, the other rested on your sex. 

Shaking your head once again, your eyes widened and the corner of your mouth turned up in matter-of-factness, you whispered, “You wouldn’t do it.”

Immediately, “Try me,” he calmly demanded.

Kriff it. The most he would do is reject you.

“I want you to kiss me.” You confessed.

The T of his visor stared at you blankly. In contrast to the steady gaze of his helmet, his chest heaved and lowered at a faster rhythm. 

Then you were on the mattress, Mando was standing up in his bunk, going for the door. Dread hit you like a brick wall. 

“Mando, Mando I’m sorry. I knew it was ridiculous! I-I shouldn’t have even asked,” you pleaded to him.

Then it was dark. And a large pair of hands were on your waist. 

Hissss.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and your eyes remained wide in a pleading expression. 

“Relax.”

The word dripped from Mando’s lips and traveled to your ears. His tone was like thick, warm honey. A soothing bass resonated throughout the room and into your bones. Once the tone reached the marrow within them, they turned to jelly. Your body slumped into Mando’s broad hands.

A dip in the mattress alerted you to his positioning within the bunk. He sat beside you, hands remained around your waist, and he gave you a slight tug as a request to move closer to him. Once you were close enough, Mando slid you into his lap to resume your previous entanglement. 

Your head relaxed on his shoulder and he pulled your torso closer to his with the tree-trunks he had for arms. Instead of his hand slithering down to find the band of your underwear, it traveled up your arm and towards the crook of your neck. The Mandalorian’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your jaw, just in front of your ear. He shifted a bit, and then you felt warm air fanning over your face.

His helmet was off. The room was dark. Yet you knew that you were looking him right in the eyes. You knew his face was centimeters away from yours. The series of events amazed you. If the lights were on, his Creed would be broken. You didn’t know if the Creed had a clause about being helmetless in the dark, but you knew this situation was risky.

And yet Mando was willing to put his Creed at risk. Just to kiss you.

As if he was reading your mind, his thumb halted its motions. The air that fanned over your face did so with a higher intensity.

The honied voice washed over you again, “I’m going to kiss you now, mesh’la.”

In shock, you could merely nod and whisper, “Please, Mando.”

You daydreamed–and actually dreamed–about this moment for months. Months. Different visions clouded your mind. Soft, supple kisses could be placed on your lips. Feather lip and hesitant in how they approached. Or the kisses could be rough and demanding. Muscles and embouchures would battle in combat motivated by lust.

In reality, Mando was a mix of both. His lips were soft, yet firm. Intention laced the way he moved his mouth against yours. Saliva soon wet both pairs of lips in your entanglement. Your mouths fell into a synchronized rhythms of pecks, tongues, soft bites, and sloppy kisses.

You were so focused on his lips that you didn’t notice the calloused hand making its way down your underwear. His fingers rubbed your clit once more and your hips bucked into his hand. Teeth clashed together as Mando smiled into your kisses.

He placed shorter, close mouthed kisses on your lips and pulled away to speak. Tension from the waistband of your underwear alerted you to Mando’s gesture.

His warm breath fanned over your face, “Can I take these off, baby?”

You nodded vigorously, realizing he couldn’t see you, you stuttered out, “Y-yes, please.”

In haste, the underwear was peeled from your legs and thrown into the darkness of the man’s bunk. Warm, wet lips crashed onto yours once more. You reached up and tangled your fingers into his hair. Soft waves traveled through your hands as they ran through his locks. 

The Mandalorian let out a low groan at the presence of your fingers in his hair. Firm and demanding lips met your mouth, and small bites pinched your lower lip from time to time. You supposed that this was one of the first times someone carded their fingers through his hair. 

Then you felt a rough finger at your soaking entrance. You clenched your walls around nothing in response. His fingers needed to be inside you. Fantasies have filled your mind’s eye about them for months. They’re thick, and you know the digits would stretch your wet hole. Thoughts of the tasty feeling manifested into words.

“Kriff, plea-please Mando. I want your fingers in my pussy,” you pleaded.

He stopped kissing you, but his breath remained close. The motion that was in his lips translated to his finger. One thick, large digit sunk into your wet heat.

From between the clouds of pleasure that fogged your head, you heard Mando’s syrupy voice in your ear, “You’re going to cum like this.”

Your body melted into his. Reaching up, you grabbed where you thought his face was. After a second of wandering in the darkness, your hand cupped his jaw and kept his face in front of yours.

Soft moans and gentle groans emanated from your chest. Each individual knuckle of his finger rubbed along your walls and left its own unique feeling. Mando pumped his middle finger into you slowly. After you were used to the feeling, it was as if his finger was the one pulling moans from your throat.

Mando picked up his pace and you began to pant, moans mingling between your loud exhales. Gripping his jaw and his neck, you anchored yourself to him. His large arms were easily holding you against him, and his torso was solid, but the deft finger in your wet pussy made you feel like you were levitating off of him.

“Maker, baby. I knew your pussy would get fucking soaked,” he gritted into your ear.

Wet sounds of his finger pushing in and out of your heat filled the darkness of his bunk. Your legs were spread wide in his lap, allowing Mando room to curve his wrist to push his finger along the tight walls of your sex. His fingertip traveled and searched, like a hunter after a bounty, and it finally found its reward.

Your hips jumped into his hand at the euphoric feeling. Awe swept over you. You thought Mando was going to be attentive, but attentive was too light of a word for his focus. 

Groaning, he remarked, “Mmmm. That’s it, huh? That’s my girl.”

The Mandalorian was obsessed. His obsession led him to hit the pressure point on your soaking walls over and over again. Mando’s chest rumbled when your pussy clenched around his fingers. Resistance against his fingers only spurred his actions further.

The grasps of your hands tightened around his face and neck. Every muscle in your body clenched. Your face was screwed together from pleasure. Not only was your body taught, your moans were too.

“Nnnghh, oh fuck. M-Mando, yes.”

All because of one of Mando’s fingers.

Your grasp on his jaw shifted when he inquired, “You want another finger, mesh’la?”

Without thought, you moaned in response, “Yes! Oh Maker, please Mando!” 

An empty feeling in your pussy almost made its way to your brain, but then you felt the stretch. Two of his fingers made you see stars, and the delicious stretch created by his thick digits went right to your clit.

His chest vibrated against your shoulder as he let out a deep, rumble, “That’s my good girl.”

A whimper escaped from your throat and your hips ground onto his fingers.

“I- mmf, I thought about this so many times,” you admitted.

Mando growled, “Fuck. Yeah? Tell me what else you thought about.”

His fingers picked up their pace, hitting that soft spot on your walls repeatedly. The Mandalorian made you a whimpering mess in his arms. More wetness weeped from your seams, dripping out past his thick fingers.

“I-, oh, fuck, I th-thought about y-your cock,” you confessed another fantasy that plagued your thoughts.

“Mmmm. What about my cock, cyar’ika?”

The sounds of your wet pussy and both of your moans filled the small space of Mando’s bunk. 

Shhlkt. Shhlkt. Shhlkt.

“H-how you’d st-stretch my pussy w-with it,” you managed between whimpers and shaky exhales.

Fingers fucked into your messy hole faster and faster. “Is that what you want, mesh’la? Need me to stretch your pretty pussy out?”

“Yes, yes. Oh-oh fu-fuck, please,” you begged him. The hand on his jaw brought his lips down to meet yours. Mando’s tongue immediately dove between your lips, wrestling with yours in vigor. Rough, scarred skin was grounding in your hands. Each pump of his fingers tightened your muscles, curling your figure into his strong hold.

“You want my cock next, baby? Hm?” He cooed at you, never faltering the rhythm of his fingers.

Your mouth fell away from his when your jaw dropped. “Mh-mmm-mhm. Yes, please!” You squealed in reaction.

His face leaned down to hover in front of yours, “Then cum on my fingers, pretty baby,” he growled to you.

Shhlkt. Shhlkt. Shhlkt.

A few more pumps and your wet walls clamped down on Mando’s thick fingers. Broken gasps left your mouth as your body stiffened in his strong arms. Your legs shook and you left crescent marks on the man’s back.

Despite your body-shaking orgasm, the man continued his motions until you placed a hand over his to push it away. Your limp body slumped into his, the waves of pleasure left a warm sensation glowing in your skin. 

No amount of dreaming could have predicted the feeling of Mando beckoning an orgasm from you like he swore to do it. The situation you were in wasn’t exactly what you dreamt of, but the reality was so much better.

A strong hand grazed your back, leaving a trail of heat from its up and down motions. Another hand pulled you in closer to him, and the warm air from his breath made its presence known on your face.

The tone he used starkly contrasted the growls from earlier, “How was that? Are you feeling okay, cyar’ika?” A deep tone, covered in honey, was laced with a small amount of concern.

“Mando…holy shit,” you said breathily. 

Silently chuckling at the state you were in, the Mandalorian peppered light, slow kisses on top of your head and over your face. You relished in the feeling. His lips mimicked the sentiments of the kisses he placed on your wrist earlier in the night. 

“This means everything to me.” 

The phrase echoed in your mind. Of course Mando let you know before that. He didn’t have to say it, but it showed in his actions. Every cup of caf. Every conversation. Every inquisitive response he would give after you told a story. Every small intention behind each action built up within you, and you guided Mando’s lips to meet yours.

Your lips moved in sync and in slow motion. Ridges and valleys imprinted on your lips and in your memory. If Mando was dedicated to his Creed, you would be dedicated to the set of lips pressing against yours. The set of lips that made you laugh. The lips that reassured you. The lips you looked forward to hearing produce words everyday.

You didn’t even know what they looked like.

And you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. They were his lips. Mando’s lips. That’s all that mattered.

After a long stint of sloppy kisses and crescendoing moans, Mando removed his lips from yours. He was panting and en route to placing the same sloppy kisses onto your neck. His plump lips traveled down, leaving saliva marks in their wake, and then they trailed back up, settling next to your ear.

The thin skin of his lips tickled the shell of your ear as he spoke, “Still want me to fuck you, baby?”

Baby.

He’s said it before, but the word still made you squirm a small amount in his arms. Your teeth imprinted on your lips before you let out a meek, “Yes, please.” If the lights were on, Mando would see your wide eyes and your scrunched together brows. As if you had to beg him for it.

Kisses between the two of you resume as the Mandalorian shifted both of your positions on the mattress. His strong arms still clutched your figure as he slowly leaned downwards, until the pair of you were lying on the bed. Both of your hands reached up and weaved your fingers into the soft waves on his head. Mando’s thick hands traversed the planes of your body, randomly grabbing onto you and giving you a slight squeeze where his hands were.

“Uhhhgg, fu-fuck,” left his chest and escaped from his throat when you gave his hair a small tug. One of his firm, capable hands reached down and encouraged you to spread your legs. In the same motion, he shifted upwards to settle between them. 

Your locked mouths never broke. Mando’s lips remained on yours as if he were tethered to them, like they were the only thing keeping him in this universe. His groin pressed against yours and your hips bucked upwards at the feeling. Your mouth watered, like it was somehow conditioned to, after sensing the large curve of his cock covered by black fabric.

One of your hands reached downwards and palmed his shaft through the clothing. Mando’s hips ground down into yours in response, and he let out a low growl.

Your fingertips found the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and tugged on it in suggestion. Before you could even ask the question, the Mandalorian sat up, leaving your upper body to feel the cold air of the bunk. 

Shuffling came from in front of you. Then a soft, muted, plop.

The man was back onto you like it pained him to be away. Moans and rumbling exuded from his chest as he kissed you. Firm muscle of his tongue lapped against yours, challenging you to lustful combat. You accepted and the volume of your pleasure joined his. A couple kisses felt like forever, but it was the best eternity that you could be stuck in.

Mando’s body shifted lower to grind his hips against you once more. His thick shaft slid through your folds. A whimper came from your mouth as the head of his cock grazed your clit. Moans from the man only became more gravely, animalistic. The grit of the vibrations could have convinced you that he put the helmet back on–if his mouth wasn’t sealed to yours.

Swollen lips broke the seal from yours and Mando’s head fell into the space between your head and your neck. Heavy breathing flooded the audio in your brain. Rough hands ran up and down your inner thighs, intermittently squeezing the flesh there. 

A chaste kiss met the side of your head, above your ear You could feel the slick on his lips against your ear as he gently demanded, “Tell me what you want.”

Without hesitation you replied in a whining whisper, “Please put your cock in my pussy.”

The side of your head vibrated when he let out a blissful groan into your hair. His broad chest left yours as he sat up and pulled some items from a nearby drawer. Your face heated in anticipation.

Sounds were the only thing available to you to figure out what he retrieved. A crinkling and then a tear echoed through the bunk.

The condom.

Rubber noises made their way to your ears as Mando rolled the condom onto his shaft. Maker, you wish you could see him. Those large hands forming a strong grip. The thick head of his cock leaking before he puts the contraceptive on.

You thought you’d feel him shift back towards you, but then a short pop echoed through the bunk. Like he just opened a bottle of shampoo. 

Silence. 

Then the slick sounds of his large grip stroking his shaft filled the air.

Your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were definitely wet enough, but the consideration for your comfort made liquid seep from your pussy.

The mattress shifted around you as he lowered his torso towards yours. One side dipped much more and the slick head of his cock teased your entrance. A small moan left your throat at the contact.

Mando paused when he was lined up with your wet hole. A wet kiss was placed on your forehead before he asked, voice strained, “Are you ready for me, my cyare?”

“Yes,” breathy and quick, passed through your swollen lips.

Maker. His cock was thick. The feeling of him pushing into you was fucking amazing.

The walls of your pussy wrapped around him. A delightful stretch pricked at your soaking entrance and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Mando was slow and careful as he pressed his wide shaft into you. Movement ceased once his balls laid flat against the flesh of your ass.

You were so lost in the new sensations that Mando’s heavy breaths suddenly made their way into the foreground of your mind. Warm air fanned against your face and his strangled moans vibrated against your chest. Head heavy, his face found its way to the crook of your neck.

“Oh, f-fuckkk. Kriff, cyar’ika, you put my dreams to shame.”

Your arms weaved around his torso and your fingers ran down his back. His face only pressed further into you, and your walls were straining against the thickness of his cock.

“Mmm-Mando. Please. Fuck me, please.”

Another rumble from his chest vibrated against you. His hips shifted backwards, and the thick head of his cock dragged against your walls. The pair of you moaned in unison, amazed by the feel of the other.

His torso rose up and slipped from your hold and you involuntarily whined. A small, gravely chuckle left Mando’s lips, “You want me back down there, baby?”

Your hands reached into the darkness and collided with the man’s chest. Hairs brushed against your fingers as you attempted a grip to pull him back down. Before you could adjust your hands to pull his shoulders down instead, he lowered himself once more and nestled his head in the space above your shoulder.

“I-I-, nngghhh,” you tried to justify your desire, but the ridges of his cock grazed against the warmth of your pussy just right. But then you tried again. “M-makes me f-feel safe,” you let out a whimper.

“Aghhh, fuck baby.” The speed of his thrusts picked up, but his strokes were still long and languid. “Want you to feel safe with me,” he grunted as his breath fanned over your neck.

You always felt safe with him. Without question. In populated cities with shoulder-to-shoulder crowds. Out in the wilderness, the forest canopy darkening the forest floor. At a run down market with nasty glares being sent your way.

“I always have,” you manage to clearly respond.

Another deep groan resonated in your ear drums. A large, calloused hand found your arm and dragged its grip towards your hand. Thick digits intertwined with yours, and the pace of his hips picked up once more.

The hair above his shaft created mind-numbing friction on your clit. Each stroke sent a shockwave of bliss through your body. The bliss made its way back down to your pussy. Wetness dripped out from around his thick cock. Soft, wet sounds filled the space of Mando’s bunk.

“Kriff, cyar’ika. Maker, you’re fucking soaked for me,” he gritted out into your ear. His mouth found yours and weak, distracted kisses were placed on your lips. 

Fingertips dug into the skin on his back. You reeled into his touch. His thick cock still left a tinge of stretching throughout your walls. Each thrust of his hips soothed and invigorated the sensation in your pussy. You thought back to your fantasies and masturbation sessions. Squeezing three fingers into your soaking hole just to get a taste of how he’d feel. Now you have the real thing. And it’s so much better than your fingers buried deep in your cunt.

“What’re you thinking about, mesh’la?” The smooth baritone filled the air around you.

You bit your lip. How the hell did he know you were thinking? Small gasps left your lips, releasing the skin from the hold of your teeth. You knew he wanted you to say it, but your cheeks became hot in embarrassment.

You probably waited too long, because Mando grunted out, “I can tell you what I’ve been thinking, baby,” a soft grumble came from his chest, “been thinking abou- fuck. About how much of a good girl you are for me.”

Mewling left your throat and you tightened your wet pussy around his hard length. Mando growled and quickened his pace in response. A combination of moans and exhales from your chest were punctuated from each of his thrusts. Thick fingers splayed across the underside of your thigh and shifted your hips slightly upwards.

 He found the spot. The same one his fingers came familiar with.

Brows furrowed and eyes scrunched, you moaned out a whiny, “O-oh-oh, Maker. Mando!” 

“Tell me what you’re thinking about, my cyar’ika,” Mando repeated.

“Y-your cock, oh k-kriff, your cock, Mando,” you let out a shaky breath to conclude, “I’ve been thinking about your cock.”

A low hum came from the man, “What about it, mesh’la?”

You let out a keening noise when Mando reached down and grazed your clit with his thumb, drawing circles on your sensitive nub. Strong fingers splayed across your lower stomach as he rested them there. He listened to your moans and shaky breaths and concentrated on a technique. The Mandalorian figured out your body and had it down to a science. Every movement and sound that resonated from your body was a signal to him. Sound waves from you were like signals, and he replied to your every call.

His hips remained flush against yours as he gave your cunt shallow thrusts, repeatedly brushing the firm head of his cock over the most sensitive point deep within you. The combination of stimulations made your pussy clench around his shaft. A guttural moan emanated from Mando in response.

Your fingertips dug into the broad expanse of his back when you confessed with a whine, “Th-thinking…fuck…you’re so-o bi-ig.”

The thumb rubbing your clit sped up, and Mando’s other hand tightened its grip around yours. You let out a breathy sigh, your cunt only became tighter around him. The Mandalorian’s bunk was filled with the sound of your combined moans, heavy breaths, and light plaps of skin against skin.

Visions of what he looked like fucking you flashed through your mind. His huge shoulders, strong arms, veiny forearms, thick fingers. The delectable tree-thunk thighs accenting his toned waist.

You pictured a man with dark hair, probably brown eyes, with the softest lips your pair have ever met, framed by dark stubble. The man would be focused, brow furrowing in concentration. His eyes rolled back into his head and his jaw fell open when you tightened around him. Just like Mando, he’d growl in response to your wet heat, and bring his jaw back up to tighten it while he focused on you.

His hands. His cock. His voice. His lips. Kriff even the feel of his hair and skin. Each component came together to melt you into a puddle of pleasure. Moans escaped from your throat in higher and higher octaves. Sentences didn’t exist anymore, as you could barely form them.

“Think, oh shit, Ma-Mando. Think I-I’m gonna cum,” your voice sounded desperate as you alerted him.

Harsh breaths blew onto your face from Mando’s focused exertion. Your lip was captured under your teeth for the umpteenth time. Only tight whines left your throat. Pussy squeezing around Mando, your body followed suit. Thighs wrapped around his waist and the embrace of your arms held him close.

The Mandalorian left lazy kisses across your face and muttered endless praises.

“Such a good girl.”

“You’re so perfect, mesh’la.”

“Not going to last long after you, my pretty baby.”

Then his kisses paused from being placed on your face. “Hey,” Mando said to get your attention, “listen to me, cyar’ika.”

You whimpered in acknowledgement, but Mando wasn’t having it, “Have to say yes for me,” he let out between strokes.

“Yes-yes I’m listening,” you quickly blurted. 

Almost lost in your pleasure, you realized you had to actually listen to him. To comprehend and process his words. Not that you weren’t listening to him, but the motions he pressed into you made your mind blur together. Your mind snapped to attention at his words.

Mando spoke in a gentle, yet commanding, tone. The grip sealing your conjoined hands together tightened.

“My name is Din.”

Din.

It was simple and to the point, just like how Mando was. No wasting any time. No frills. No banthashit. Just Din.

Then the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped. Sounds that once poured from your body ceased as your figure curled into his. The pleasure was something you couldn’t have fathomed before this. Every cell in your body ignited in a passion filled radiance.

“Din! Din, oh fuckkkk, Diiiin!”

Your wet heat clamped onto Mando’s thick cock, sending him into a frenzy of growls and grunts. His calloused thumb remained on your clit until the spasms of your orgasm fizzled out. Then you were left empty handed, but your body lifted up slightly off of the mattress. The Mandalorian snaked his arms behind your shoulders, his hands under the pillow cushioning your head.

Sloppy kisses met your mouth. Tongues pushed into mouths to wrestle with their counterparts. It was like Mando wanted to memorize every ridge of your lips and tongue. To add them to his Creed. Worship them forever.

His head dropped next to yours and your ears were filled with breathy grunts.

Plap. Plap. Plap.

Softly bounced around the metal walls of the bunk.

“Wanted this for so long, baby.”

“Always thought about you, fuck, I think about you all the time.”

The intensity of his grunts increased and you could feel his cock swelling inside you. Soft lips brushed against the shell of your ear, hastily whispering out, “Where do you want me?”

Digging your fingers into the waves of his soft hair, you eagerly responded, “In the condom, Din.”

“Fuucckkk,” he groaned.

His cock started to twitch within your warm walls. The speed and depth of his thrusts no longer followed a formula. Your head raised slightly when large fists balled the bedsheets into his hands. One of your hands drifted up and down his back, soothing him through his release. He was shaking with every excess thrust he gave your wet heat.

Then his heavy body slumped against yours. Mando’s breath was still heaving, sending strong winds across your neck. Open mouthed kisses were gently placed onto the skin there. Your fingers massaged his scalp and he let out a satisfied sigh. Silence filled the space of the bunk.

What if he regretted this? Was this just a one time thing?

“Mand-,” he cut you off with both his voice and the motions he put the pair of you through.

Suddenly you were on top of him. Your head found the plush meat of his relaxed pecs and you laid your head on them. A firm grip from Mando came to wrap around you. His strong arms held you against him like someone threatened to take you away. Mando’s fingertips traced languid shapes across your back. The tip of his nose dug into your scalp as he pressed a couple soft kisses in your hair.

“Din. Call me Din, cyar’ika.”

Your cheeks rose in temperature at his insistence. Fighting your nerves, you asked, “Is this a one time thing?”

The Mandalorian stiffened underneath you. Here it goes. You’ll have to crawl off his body and resort to the sleeping pad in the hull.

“No. Mesh’la, of course not,” a low baritone soothed your worries. Your head slumped onto his chest even more. Feeling nervous, yet confident–even though you literally just fucked him–you brought a hand up to feel his face.

His hand resumed its drawings of small shapes on your back. Humming came from beneath you when your hand made contact with his stubble. Your thumb grazed the short hairs and your fingers followed the curve of his jaw.

His lips felt as soft as they did when they were on yours. Your fingertips reached upwards a bit more. Longer hairs tickled at your digits and you let out a small giggle.

“Mmf, what, pretty girl?” His tone was laced with sleep and curiosity.

You smiled at him in the dark, “You have a mustache,” you told him in a whisper, as if he didn’t already know. A smile from him creeped up under your touch.

“Mmm. Yes, I do,” he replied matter-of-factly. 

In a teasing tone, you inquired, “Who’s that for?”

A low chuckle from Din’s chest made your head rumble. The hand on your back ceased its movements. His nose dipped down to find yours, aiding him in lining up his mouth to kiss you. A gentle kiss was placed onto your lips, and you were acutely aware of the hairs that made up his mustache.

He sighed in content and murmured, “At first it was for me. I don’t know. I just liked it,” his shoulders went up and down in a shrug, he continued with a hum, “but you like it. So now it’s for you.”

Your face became hot at his words. Slightly embarrassed, you nestled your face into his chest. The thin hairs there wisped at your face. 

Sleep quickly caught up to you and your whole body relaxed against Din’s. His large frame made for a comfortable bed. Muscles, none of them tense, gave you a plush surface to melt into.

Din’s strong arms wrapped around you. He continued to press soft kisses into your hair. Right before you slipped out of consciousness he whispered to you.

“I meant what I said,” he paused to wait for a response. You didn’t register him speaking until it was too late, but he continued his sentence nonetheless.

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Supply Run - Review (part four) (Coming soon)

[mymindcreatedthis]

Don’t Tease

Ona Batlle x Reader

Word count: 3,094

Summery: The girls play against Germany and win. Ona makes Reader a promise, later on they go to the club and get shots and Ona rewards Reader with a grinding Dance in the Dance floor. They get so turned on they both can’t take it anymore. They pay and call it a night, they head back to Ona’s hotel room. Ona rewards Reader with a private lap dance.

Warning: Smut, Teasing, Grinding, Lapdance, hair pulling, Unprotected sex, Creampies, Blow job, throat pie, daddy kink, Dirty talk, Squirting, leg trapping. Positions: Missionary, Doggy, Riding.

*Y/n's pov*

It was game day, we were playing against Germany. We were up 4-2, I get the ball and dribble it up field. I see Ona was open, I pass the ball to her.

She dribbles the ball up field. She stands off with the goalie, she slams her foot into the ball. The ball soars past the goalies and goes into the back of the net. 5-2.

Ona runs over to me she jumps in my arms. I laugh and catch her, she kisses my cheek.

"Yes Y/n. Thank you for the amazing pass. Get me two more of those and we're going to the club. I'm buying you drinks and giving you a lap dance." Ona says.

I groan and bite my lip. "Ona stop teasing." I pout.

Ona giggles. "Like I said two more of those and this ass is yours."

Ona jumps out of my arms and goes back to her spot leaving me flustered and turned on. We continue the game, I get the ball again and dribble it upfield.

While I'm running a Germany player runs at me from the side and knocks me down. We both take a nasty fall.

I groan in pain as I hit the ground. "Ahh Fuck!" I groan in pain.

Alexia and Ona immediately run over to me.

"Shit are you okay Y/n? That was a nasty hit and nasty fall." Alexia says.

"Y-Yeah I'm okay. Can you guys help me up?" I ask.

They nod and help me up. Along with the Germany player, we go back to our spots and continue to the game.

Alexia gets the ball and passes it to me. I get the ball and dribble it up field, I see Alexia wide open again I pass the ball to her. Alexia gets the ball, she slams her foot into the ball.

The ball soars past the keeper and finds the back of the net. Alexia runs over to me, we do our celebration dance.

We continue the game after a full 90 minutes the game ends with us winning 6-3.

We leave the stadium and go back to the hotel. Me and Alexia go back to our room. Alexia grabs her clothes and goes into the bathroom. She closes the door behind her and locks it.

I mess around in my phone as she showers. After 10 minutes Alexia finishes up in the shower and comes back into the room.

"Bathroom is all yours." She says.

I nod, I grab new clothes and go into the bathroom. I turn the shower on and strip my clothes and get in the shower. I start washing my hair and body and then rinse off cleaning the soap out of my hair and off my hair.

I finish up, I turn off the shower and step out and dry off. I get dressed, I brush my teeth and hair. Once I'm done I come back into the room.

Once Alexia and I are ready we leave the room and meets the girls in the lobby. I spot Ona, I smile and make my way over to her.

We walk out together and make our way to the club.

"I still owe you those drinks and a lap dance." Ona smiles.

I blush a bit and nod. "Can't wait."

we get to the club and go in. We order drinks and find somewhere a bit more private. Ona comes back over to me with shots, me and her do our first round of shots for the night.

The music turns on, the girls get up and make their way to the dance floor. Ona and I join them and dance together. Eminem 'Shake that' comes on.

Ona turns her back to me, she sticks her ass out against my crotch and starts to grind against my dick as the music plays. Ona smirks at me when she feels my bulge against her ass.

"Fuck baby you really know how to work your hips." I say.

She giggles. "Yeah I can tell you're enjoying it." She teases.

I blush darkly in embarrassment. "S-Shut up."

She giggles and presses her ass against my dick more. I moan as she does this, Ona giggles and continues to grind against me.

We dance together for another 6 songs then after a while we leave the club. We head back to the hotel, we get back to the hotel and go in.

Ona tells me to wait here so she can talk to Alexia real quick.

I nod, I watch her walk away and talk to Alexia. I don't know what is said but Alexia looks over at me and smirks. She hands Ona her key card.

I hear Ona say thank you and come back to me. Ona grabs my hand and we go to the elevator.

"Where are we going love?" I ask.

"We're going back to my room. Alexia is going back to yours and Alex's for the night." Ona says.

The elevator opens. We get in the elevator, Ona presses the button to our floor and the doors close. Ona turns to me, and smiles she leans in. I smirk and lean in, our lips touch. I deepen the kiss, our lips move in sync.

The doors open as the kiss starts to get heated. We break the kiss and walk to her room.

"You still owe me a lap dance love." I say.

"Yea I know. We are heading back to mine for more privacy." Ona says.

I giggle and nod. Ona unlocks the door and opens it. We go into her room, she closes the door behind us and locks it.

As soon as the door closes Ona pins me against the door and kisses me deeply. I'm shocked at first but kiss back.

Ona rubs my bulge over my pants. I moan in the kiss as she does this, Ona smiles in the kiss. She breaks the kiss, she pulls me away from the door and pushes me backwards onto the bed.

"Take off your shirt, bra and pants baby." Ona Sexily demands.

I smirk and sit up, I take off my shirt and bra. I stand up and unbutton my jeans and take them off.

I sit back down on the end of the bed. Ona walks over to me. She turns her back to me, she sits on my lap and slowly grinds against my dick over my boxers.

I moan as Ona continues to grind against my dick over my boxers

*Ona’s pov*

I bite my lip and continue to grind against Y/n's dick. Fuck I can feel her bulge and she feels huge. I continue to grind against her feeling myself getting soaking wet.

Y/m moans quietly. She places her hands on my hips, as I continue to give her a lap dance.

"Fuck your ass feels good grinding against my dick." Y/n moans.

I giggle and grind a bit faster and harder. I moan as I feel her boner rub against my folds.

"Ahh fuck I can feel your tip rubbing against my folds." I moan.

Y/n moans and squeezes my ass. I moan and continue to fend against her dick. I moan as she squeezes my ass a bit.

"Fuck I can't take it anymore. Y/n, baby take off your boxers." I moan.

Y/n slides her boxers down her legs and kicks them off to the side. My eyes widen as I see her massive dick spring out once it's freed from its confinement.

"Shit baby. You're huge." I say.

She blushes darkly as I say this. "T-Thanks."

I moan as I feel her tip rubbing against my folds as I continue to grind against her dick. Y/n moans as I continue to grind against her dick.

"Shit baby, your soaking wet my dick is throbbing." Y/n says.

"Mm I'm soaking wet cause your dick is rubbing against my folds." I moan.

"Mm feels so good." Y/n moans.

*Y/n's pov*

I moan as Ona continues to grind against my dick. She was soaking wet, I moan as she goes to town on my dick.

While she is grinding, her soaking folds rub against my dick. All of a sudden my dick slips and accidentally goes deep inside her.

Ona gasps and moans. "Fuck I wasn't expecting that."

"Shit, I'm sorry baby it slipped." I moan.

Ona takes a moment to adjust to my size. "Keep it in baby, you deserve this, relax and enjoy."

Ona slowly slides up and down on my dick. I moan and place my hands on her hips, as she picks up the pace and goes a bit faster.

"Mmm shit." I moan.

"Shit you're really deep in there baby." She moans.

"Sorry like I said it slipped." I moan.

"Shhh baby. Relax and let me do the work." Ona moans.

Ona turns towards me. She leans in and kisses me deeply as she slides up and down on my dick. I moan in the kiss.

Ona rests her head against mine as she continue to ride me. I moan, I could feel myself getting close. I was already close to cumming, since she was grinding against my dick. My tip was rubbing against her folds before so I'm about to bust at any moment.

"Ahh fuck, Ona. I should probably pull out I'm close." I moan.

"Cum inside me." Ona moans.

"Are you sure?" I question.

"Yes I'm sure. Give me your cum." She says seductively.

I nod and moan loudly as she picks up the pace and goes faster and a bit harder. She moans loudly as she continues to ride my dick.

"Mm so fucking good. Your dick deep inside me stretching me out." Ona moans.

"Yeah baby? You like that? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out?" I tease.

"Mm yes daddy. I love your dick deep inside me stretching me out." She moans.

Ona moans and wraps her arms around me as she rides my dick faster and slams her ass down on my dick. I moan as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming.

"Fuck I'm really close." I moan.

"Mmm me to, give me your cum." Ona moans.

She goes faster slamming her ass down on my dick more and more.

Creampie #1:

I moan and bust my load deep inside her. Ona gaps and moans as I unload my seed in her. She moans and cums all over my dick.

Cum oozes out of her as I pull out of her. Cum drips down the bed and onto the floor. I flip us around and lay Ona on the bed.

I kiss and suck on her inner thighs. Ona moans as I do this. I smirk, I lick her folds and begin eating her out.

Ona moans and runs her fingers through my hair as I continue to eat her out and finger her faster.

"Fuck....fuck....I'm gonna squirt!" Ona moans.

I continue to finger her faster and faster as I slip in another finger. Ona moans loudly in pleasure and squirts like crazy. Some of it goes on my face and chin.

I stop fingering her I stick my tongue in her pussy and lick her core. Her legs shake and buckle in pleasure as I lick her clit and roll my tongue on her clit adding different pressures.

Ona moans and plays with my hair. "Shit just like that. Ugh fuck, I'm close."

Hearing this makes me dive into her pussy even more and continue to eat her out. She becomes a moaning mess as I continue to eat her out.

"I'm cumming.... I'm cumming." Ona moans.

Her juices and cum coat my face and chin. I help her ride out her high once she comes down from her high I lick and clean up her sticky mess. I come back up to her and kiss her deeply.

"You taste amazing." I say.

She giggles in the kiss. "Mmm before you fuck me more, can I suck your dick? I want that cum in my mouth." Ona says seductively.

I smile and nod, I lay on the bed. She lays between my legs, she wraps her hand around my dick and slowly strokes my dick.

I moan as she does this. She lick her palm and continues to stroke my dick. I moan as she strokes my dick a bit faster.

I moan, once I'm hard Ona takes my dick in her mouth. Ona slowly bobs her head, she chokes and gags a bit as the tip of my dick hits the back of her throat.

"F-Fuck." I moan in pleasure.

Ona bobs her head a bit faster. I moan and hold her hair up as she continues to give me head and sucks the soul out of my dick.

"S-Shit baby just like that." I moan in pleasure.

Ona hums against my dick and sucks my dick faster and faster than before. I moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer to cumming.

"Ona, baby I'm close." I moan.

After 10 more minutes of an amazing blow job, I feel my balls tighten.

Throat pie:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in her mouth. Ona chokes and gags a bit as I cum in her mouth. Ona swallows my load. She sucks me dry getting the rest of my cum and walls my cum.

My dick falls from her mouth. I moan and pant laying there trying to catch my breath. Ona Giggles.

"You taste good too." She says.

I smirk and flip us over. I pin her to the bed. Ona giggles and kisses me.

"Mmm take me in Missonary." Ona says.

I rub my dick through her folds, and slide my dick back inside her pussy. We both moan, Ona wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me closer causing my dick to go deeper inside her.

"Mmm get deep inside me baby. I need that cum ." Ona says.

I smirk, I rest my head against hers as I slowly thrust in and out of her. Ona moans as I do this, Ona looks deep into my eyes as I continue to fuck her a bit faster.

"Ugh faster daddy." Ona moans.

I go faster pounding her pussy faster and harder than before. Ona moans, her eyes roll to the back of her head as I continue to fuck her brains out.

"Shit baby, you feel so good clenched around me." I moan in pleasure.

"You feel so good inside me stretching me out." Ona moans.

I pick up the pace and go faster and harder. My balls slapping against her skin as our moans fill the room.

I go faster and faster. "Ahh I'm gonna squirt." Ona moans.

She squirts all over my abs, dick and all over my thighs and all over the sheets. I moan and continue to fuck her pussy fast and hard, I moan as I feel myself getting close to cumming.

"Ugh I'm close." I moan.

"Me too, keep going. Give me your load." Ona Moans.

I kiss and suck on her neck as I fuck her as fast and as hard as I can. I moan loudly and moan in pleasure as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming.

"I'm really close." I moan.

"Me too." Ona moans.

I feel that all too familiar feelings in my balls.

Creampie #2:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Ona moans and cums all over dick. We both moan as I continue to shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her and paint her walls white.

I help her ride out her high, once we both come down from our highs I slowly pull out of her. Cum pours out of her pussy, cum glazes her folds, cum oozes out of her pussy and into the sheets.

"Shit, there's so much cum." Ona moans.

I giggle and kiss her. We lay there catching our breath. Once Ona has her breath back she gets up and moves to the middle of the bed.

"Drain your balls in me." Ona says, she gets on her knees and shakes her ass a bit.

I smirk, I get up and move behind her. I slide my dick back inside her cum filled pussy. We both moan as Ona slides her ass back against my dick.

"Mmm fuck me more daddy." Ona Moans.

I place my hands on on her hip, I grab her hair. I wrap her hair around my hand and pull her hair as I slide back and forth. Ona moans, I pick up the pace and go faster.

My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. I moan and continue to pound her pussy from behind.

"Fuck.....Fuck....Fuck.....Fuck." Ona Squeaks out with each thrust.

I giggle. "You're so cute baby." I say as I continue to fuck her.

She moans and slams her ass back against me as I continue to pound her pussy faster and harder. We both moan, my legs shake and buckle in pleasure as I continue to fuck her ass.

"Mmm you have amazing grip babe. I don't think I can last long." I moan.

Ona giggles and continues to slide back and forth on my dick slamming her ass against me. I moan and let her do the work.

"Relax baby let me do the work." She moans as she picks up the pace and goes a bit faster.

I moan as I feel myself getting close to cumming already. Fuck Ona is amazing in bed.

I moan and throw my head back and close my eyes enjoying myself. I moans and enjoy Ona sliding back and forth on my dick. I moan as I feel myself getting close to cumming.

"Mmm I'm close babe." I moan in pleasure.

"Ugh me too." Ona moans.

I feel my balls tighten.

Creampie #3:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Ona moans and cums all over my dick. We both moan in pleasure as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her and paint her walls white.

Once we both come down from our highs, I pull out of her. Thick cum oozes out of her and drips down her thighs and onto the bed.

I lean down and kiss her ass. I place my hand on her ass and squeeze it a bit.

"Fuck that was amazing." Ona moans out.

We lay down next to each other panting and trying to catch our breath.

"Haha that was a great lap dance." I say.

Ona giggles and kisses me and cuddles me. I kiss her lovingly and deeply, I smile. I kiss her head and hold her close to me and we fall asleep.

[boobear061]

Best Friends Husband Part 1

Summary: Y/n has sex with her best friends husband

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut

WC: 3,493

Warning: daddy kink, kissing, oral ( m&f receiving ), blow job, fingering, clit spanking, spanking, nipple play, hair pulling, choking, grinding, sex toy

**

~ Jungkook's POV ~

I just arrived at home from work, the house is so quiet without my wife, she's at a business trip and won't be back in four days.

When I got to our room, I grabbed some clothes, walked to the bathroom, played some music and took a shower. Once I'm done, I put on my boxers, decided to send a photo to my wife, I grabbed my phone, stand in front of the mirror, took a picture of myself and sent it.

My eyes widened when I saw who I sent it to.. my wife's best friend Y/n.

" No, no, no. " I tried canceling it but it already sent.

" Fuck! "

I quickly sent her a messsge:

Me: Shit, that was an accident. I'm so sorry!

She left the message on read... I need a drink...

I ran my fingers through my hair, let out a sigh, walked out of the bathroom to the kitchen, poured myself some whiskey and drank it.

~ Y/n's POV ~

I am here in my room watching a movie, I heard my phone recieved a notification, I grabbed it from the nightstand, saw a message from my best friend's husband Jungkook, I opened the message and my eyes widened at what I saw.

There's a photo of him, shirtless with boxers on, it looked like he just took a shower due to water droplets on his chest and his hair is a little wet.

I blushed, felt myself got turned on, I gotta admit, he's attractive, I would be lying if I said that I don't fantasize about him..

A naughty thought came to mind, I set my phone down on the bed, got off, stripped myself leaving my red lace set, laid back down on the bed, grabbed my phone, took a picture of myself, made sure that my lace panties are in display before sending it to Jungkook.

~ Jungkook's POV ~

My phone received a notification, I grabbed it from the table, it's a message from Y/n, when I went to the messages my eyes widened at what I saw, Y/n with red lace set..

I gotta admit, she does look so sexy in that.. that body..

I gulped, drank my whiskey, almost choked when she sent me a video..

She exposed her boobs, cupped her right one, squeezed it, pulled on her nipple, bring her hand down to her clothed pussy and rubbed her clit.

Oh fuck..

Y/n moved her panties to aside, insert two fingers inside her pussy, began to finger fuck herself and what got me was her moaning my name..

I couldn't help myself but to cup my hardness with my hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, the video ended, and she sent me a message:

Y/n: Like what you see? 😉

I gulped, thought about what I would do to her when she's.. no.. stop.. she's your wife's best friend..

I left the message on read, locked my phone, set it on the table, got up and walked to the bathroom to rinse my face, I looked at myself in the mirror, my dick twitched, I gripped onto the counter and closed my eyes.

I can't get her out of my head..

I heard my phone recieved a notification, I dried my face, walked over to the dining table, grabbed my phone and saw that she sent me a video.

She licked the dildo, gave it a blowjob which made my dick twitched, she moved the dildo away from her mouth, slowly bring it down to her chest, put it in between her boobs, and gave the dildo a little titty fuck.

The video ended, it turned me on so much, she sent me another video, she is fucking herself with the dildo, I gulped, she moaned my name, I bring my hand down to my hard on, gave it a gentle squeeze and she sent me a message:

Y/n: Don't be shy baby. I don't bite. 😉

~ Y/n's POV ~

I waited for him to respond and he texted back:

Jungkook: Y/n?

Me: Yes?

Jungkook: Never mind..

Me: Jungkook?

Jungkook: Promise me one thing.. Don't tell Areum.

Me: I won't tell her if you don't. It can be our little secret.

Out of the sudden Jungkook facetimed me, my heart raced, I accepted the call, all I saw was the ceiling with galaxy LED lights going around the room.

Me: Jungkook?

He moved his phone, his face came to the screen, he's shirtless, he ran his fingers through his hair and said:

Jungkook: Finger yourself for me.

I flipped the camera, bring my hand down, insert two fingers inside my pussy, began to finger fuck myself, I let out a moan, the wetness of my pussy echoed the room, and I spread my legs wider.

Jungkook took a sip out of his whiskey, set the cup down on the nightstand, flipped the camera, lowered the phone so that I can see the outline of his dick through his Calvin Klein boxers, he cupped his hard on with his hand, and gave it a squeeze.

Jungkook: Look how hard you got me. * Moaned * Fuck, just by hearing how wet your pussy is making me want to fuck you..

He squeezed his hard on again, let out a low moan, flipped the camera, he looked at me and said:

Jungkook: Let me see your boobs baby.

I flipped the camera to selfie mode, showed him my boobs, he licked his bottom lip, played with his lip piercing, and said:

Jungkook: Good girl, now play with your boobs for me.

I pulled my fingers out of my pussy, cupped my boob, gave it a squeeze, he has lust in his eyes and said:

Jungkook: Look how hard those nipples are..

I blushed, looked the other way, he chuckled and said:

Jungkook: Don't tell me you're all shy now? You were sending me videos of you pleasuring yourself and moaning my name. Now, do me a favor?

Me: What is it?

Jungkook: Call me Daddy.

Me: Daddy?

He played with his lip piercing, nod his head and said:

Jungkook: Yes, call me Daddy.

Me: Daddy..

Jungkook: * Flipped the camera and cupped his hardness * Yes, say it again for me.

Me: Daddy.

Jungkook took his dick out of his boxers, wrapped his hand around, stroked himself slowly and said:

Jungkook: Get the dildo for me baby.

I grabbed the dildo, bring it to my lips, licked the shaft to the head, wrapped my lips around the head of the dildo and gave it a blow job, Jungkook stroked his dick faster, I moved the dildo away from my mouth, bring it down and move the dildo up and down my clit.

I insert the dildo inside my pussy, fucked myself with it, Jungkook stroked himself faster, he let out a moan and said " Yes, that's a good girl. Keep going. "

" Fuck, Daddy. " I moaned.

" Your moans are so fucking hot Y/n. "

I insert the dildo deeper, fucked myself faster, Jungkook moaned my name, I leaned my head back, the wetness of my pussy echoed the room and he said " Fuck.. "

A few minutes later, we both cummed and he said:

Jungkook: Let me see your face.

I flipped the camera, we looked at each other and he said:

Jungkook: Lick that dildo clean for me baby.

I took the dildo out of my pussy, bring it to my mouth, licked the shaft to the head, sucked on it, he bite his bottom lip and he said:

Jungkook: I'm on my way.

I moved the dildo away from my mouth, before I can say anything he hanged up.

He's coming... here?..

I got out of bed, walked to the bathroom to clean myself a bit, put on a red silk robe, fixed my hair, and walked over to the kitchen to get myself some water.

I walked back to my room, sat down on the bed, drank my water and wait for him to come.

**

I heard a motorcycle pulled up in the drive way, I got off the bed, walked over to the front door, looked through the window, saw Jungkook took off his helmet, put it on the handle, and ran his fingers through his hair.

I gulped, he got off the motorcycle, fixed his leather jacket, walked over to the front door and rang the doorbell, I gulped again, backed away from the window, stand in front of the front door and opened it.

Jungkook looked at me up and down, his eyes locked with mine and said " Hey. "

I smiled and said " Hi, come in. "

I moved to the side, he walked inside the house, I closed the door behind him, with a blink of an eye, he pinned me against the wall, wrapped his hand around my neck and whispered in my ear " You better not touched yourself while I was on my way here. You didn't, right? "

" No. "

He moved away, looked into my eyes, leaned in, kissed my lips, I kissed him back, he unwrapped his hand away from my neck, cupped my boobs with his hands and gave them a squeeze, I moaned against the kiss, he undo my robe and pulled on my nipples.

I moaned against the kiss again, he pulled away, leave wet kisses up and down my neck, pulled on my nipples again, he kissed his way down to my chest, licked and sucked on my left nipple, pulled away, looked at me, leaned in and kissed my lips.

I kissed him back, deepened the kiss, bring my hands to his chest, our tongues fought for dominance, I pulled away from the kiss, grabbed his hand and said " Let's go to my room. "

He nod his head, I walked to my room with him behind me, when we got to my room, he stand in front of me, cupped my face with his hands, leaned in and kissed my lips.

I kissed him back, he lift me up, I wrapped my legs around his torso, wrapped my arms around his neck, he walked over to my bed, gently laid me down, hovered me, I bring my hands to his back, he pulled away from the kiss, leave wet kisses up and down my neck.

He cupped my boobs with his hands, squeezed them, leave wet kisses down to my chest, licked and sucked on my left nipple, I bring my hand to the back of his head, his mouth left my boob with a pop and did the same attention to my right nipple.

He bring his hand down to my stomach to in between my legs, he rubbed my clit, I let out a low moan, gently pulled on his hair and said " Oh fuck, Daddy. That feels so good. "

Jungkook’s mouth left my boob with a pop, kissed his way down to my stomach and got in between my legs, kissed my inner thighs without losing eye contact, moved his thumb away from my clit, spit on it, licked and sucked on my clit.

I moaned his name, he bring two fingers to my mouth, I licked and sucked on them, our eyes didn't leave each other, he moved his fingers away from my mouth, slowly insert them inside my pussy and began to finger fuck me.

" Oh fuck, Daddy. " I moaned.

Jungkook moved his head side to side, opened his mouth, flicked his tongue on my clit, I pulled on his hair again, he sucked on my clit, fingered my pussy deeper and faster, I cupped my boobs with my hands and squeezed them. 

I leaned my head back, moaned out his name, he insert more of his fingers in my pussy, let out a moan against my clit, I grind against his fingers, the wetness of my pussy echoed the room, he grabbed my legs, wrapped them around his shoulders and fingered me faster.

" Oh fuck! Yes, keep going Daddy. That feels so fucking good. " I moaned out loud.

A few minutes later, I cummed against his fingers, he unwrapped my legs away from his shoulders, moved his mouth away from my clit, kissed my left inner thigh while taking his fingers away from my pussy, he moved his lips away, hovered me and said " Taste yourself for me baby. "

He bring his fingers to my mouth, I licked and sucked on them, he played with his lip piercing, nod his head and said " That's a good girl. Taste yourself for Daddy. "

I let out a moan against his fingers, he moved them away from my mouth, leaned in, kissed my lips, I kissed him back, our tongues fought for dominance, I bring my hand down to his stomach, he pulled away, looked at me and got off the bed.

Jungkook took off his hoodie, threw it across the room, I blushed when I saw his abs, he smirked at me and said " Like what you see? "

I looked down, he took off his pants, palmed his hard on, and said to me " Lay down on your back with the back of your head facing me. "

I did what he said, he took his dick out, stroked himself a little and said " Open your mouth. "

I opened my mouth, he insert his dick in my mouth, thrust his hips,   I choked on his dick, he let out a moan, wrapped his hand around my neck with his left hand and with his right hand he squeezed my boob.

" Oh fuck. " He moaned.

Jungkook pulled on my nipple which made me moan against his dick, he choked me a little and said " Finger yourself for me. "

I bring my hand down, insert two fingers inside my pussy and began to finger myself, Jungkook fucked my throat faster, moaned my name and he said " Yes, take all of it baby. * Moaned * You like that, huh? The feeling of my dick down your throat? "

I moaned against his dick, fingered myself faster, he rubbed my clit and said " Your mouth feels so fucking good. "

A few minutes later, we both cummed, he pulled out of my mouth, I swallowed his cum, pulled my fingers out of my pussy, sat up, he grabbed my wrist, bring my fingers to his mouth, he licked and sucked on them, I looked at him, and our eyes locked.

Jungkook moved my fingers away from his mouth, leaned in, kissed my lips, I kissed him back, he deepened the kiss, our tongues fought for dominance, hovered me, pulled away from the kiss and leave wet kisses on my neck to my chest.

He licked and sucked on my nipples, I ran my fingers through his hair, he moved away, looked at me and said " Are you on the- "

I nod my head and said " Yes, I'm on the pill. "

Jungkook nod his head, leaned in, kissed my lips, I kissed him back, he cupped my boobs with his hands, squeezed them and pulled on my nipples, he pulled away from the kiss, rubbed my clit, slowly insert his dick in my pussy and thrust his hips.

Jungkook ran his tongue against his lip piercing, bite his bottom lip, rest his hands on my hips, my boobs bounced up and down with every thrust he made, our skins slapped against each other echoing the room, and he said " Fuck, you're so tight. "

" Daddy. " I moaned.

" Yes, baby. Moan my name for me. " He gently slapped my clit which made me jump a little.

" Fuck, Daddy! "

He slapped my clit again, wrapped his hand around my neck, choked me, the headboard banged on the wall, the room echoed with our moans, he lightly slapped my face and said " You naughty little slut, fucking your best friend's husband. * Moaned * Having your best friends husband's dick deep inside your pussy. "

He fucked me deeper, I let out a loud moan, he gently slapped my face again, choked me a little harder, I spread my legs wider, arched my back, and he said " If you can't breathe, just tap my hand, okay? "

" Yes, Daddy. "

I bring my hand down, rubbed my clit, he leaned in, kissed my lips, I kissed him back, we both moaned against the kiss, he unwrapped his hand away from my throat, I wrapped my legs around his torso and he fucked me harder.

He pulled away from the kiss, looked at me and said " Fuck, Y/n. "

" Daddy, oh fuck! " I moaned out loud.

" Yes, baby. Fuck.. keep moaning my name. "

I bring my hands to his back, moved them up and down, he kissed my neck, sucked on the skin leaving a hickey, I moaned, he moved away from my neck, looked at me with lust in his eyes, he lightly slapped my face.

**

We both cummed, he pulled out, rubbed my clit, gave it a little spank and said " Go on all fours for me. "

I go on all fours, he squeezed my ass, gave it a spank hard, I let out a squeal, he rubbed it, insert his dick in my pussy from behind me, thrust his hips, I fist the bed sheets, he grabbed a fist fold of my hair, pulled on it, I closed my eyes and moaned.

His phone rang, he let out a sigh and said " That's Areum. Hold on. "

He let go of my hair, pulled out his dick, got off the bed to get his phone and heard him said " Hey Jagiya. "

Jungkook got on the bed, squeezed my ass and whispered in my ear " Do me a favor baby, don't make a sound. We don't want my wife to hear you, now do we? "

I shook my head, he kissed my cheek, set his phone on the bed, he has it on speaker but on mute, he insert his dick inside my pussy from behind, thrust his hips, and whispered to me " Hold them in for me okay? You can be as loud as you want when the call ends okay? "

" Okay, Daddy. " I whispered back.

Jungkook unmute the call, talking calmly to his wife as he's fucking me, I hold in my moans, he wrapped his hand around my neck, choked me, fucked me deeper, I grabbed my pillow and bury my face.

**

" Alright Jagiya. I love you too. Bye. "

The call ended, we both moaned each other's names, he fucked me rougher, our skins slapped faster echoing the room, he spanked my ass, wrapped his hand around my neck and choked me.

He whispered sweet nothings in my ear, sucked on my earlobe, kissed my cheek, I looked at him, he kissed my lips, I kissed him back, we both moaned against the kiss, he pulled away, leaned back, and spanked my ass.

**

We both cummed, he pulled out of me, I straddled his lap, cupped his face with my hands, leaned in, kissed his lips, he kissed me back, he deepened the kiss, I bring my hands to his chest, insert his dick in my pussy, rode him up and down.

I pulled away from the kiss, he leaned his head back, let out a moan and said " Oh fuck! "

I grind my hips, he cupped my boobs with his hands, squeezed and pulled on my nipples, he licked and sucked on them, bring his hands down to my ass and spanked it. I let out a moan, he moved his mouth away from my boob, I rode him faster, and leave wet kisses up and down his neck.

" Fuck, keep going baby. You're doing so good. " Jungkook moaned.

I moved my mouth away from his neck, we looked at each other, my boobs bounced with every move I made, I leaned back a bit, he bring his hand down and rubbed my clit.

" Oh fuck, Daddy! " I moaned out loud.

" Fuck, Y/n." Jungkook moaned.

A few minutes later, we both cummed, I got off him, laid next to him, he cupped my face, leaned in and kissed my lips, I kissed him back, he pulled away, looked at me and said " That was so good. "

I nod my head and said " Yeah, it was. "

We got off the bed, took a shower, walked out of the bathroom, I looked at him and said " You can spend the night? It's really late. "

He nod his head and said " Alright. "

" I think I have some of my ex boyfriends clothes, follow me. "

We walked to my closet, we changed, walked to my bed, changed the bed sheets, he laid down on my bed, I looked at him and said " You're sleeping in my bed? "

He nod his head and said " Yeah, your bed is comfy. * Pat next to him * Come to bed. "

I laid down next to him, we talked for a bit and fell asleep.

I just had sex with my best friend's husband..

[z0mbi3g1rl]

you should totally make a Leon Kennedy x reader fic where she’s like a VS angel and she just finished a show and he’s being all touchy with implied smut 🙏😼

Getting freaky.

LEON X VS MODEL READER

Warnings-implied smut at the end, mostly leon adoring his partner

READER IS IMPLIED TO BE FEMALE

Not proof read, I was tired

Today you had just walked for a victoria Secret show circa 2004. Things had just wrapped up, and though you had a blast, you wanted to go to the hotel to see your man.

Now exiting the building where the show had taken place, you got in your car (up to you if you drive or are driven). The scenery around you was gorgeous. You felt so grateful to have seen the sights around you and be the person you are today. Above all else, you were happy to have made your boyfriend proud.

He loved bragging to his buddies. He took you out with him as often as he could, and when he first introduced you to his friends like Chris,Jill,Claire, etc, he talked about your career. "This is my girlfriend Y/N. She's a model can you believe it!" They sometimes just HAD to let him tall about you, not matter how much it annoyed them. Don't get me wrong, they loved you. You were a good girlfriend to leon and good friends to them, but God damn did he talk about you a a lot.

Anyway, finally you were back at the hotel. It was DEFINITELY a nice one, but nice was definitely an understatement. It was maybe about 10pm, the lobby was busy with tourists so you carefully made it to your way to the elevator to make up to your floor. With your head down, you walked to your room and opened the door to find leon asleep on the bed. Poor guy, he looked exhausted, and he wasn't the one having costume changes all day.

You got some clothes from your suitcase and hoped into the shower, just to rinse off. You must have accidentally woken up leon because by the time you came out from the bathroom he was sitting up watching TV.

"Hey babe"

He said softly his voice sounding exhausted.

"Hey leon, I'm sorry if I woke you"

You said, putting your dirty laundry up and laying next to him in bed. He gently pulled you closer to him. He loved loved LOVED having you in his strong arms. You were just like a heated teddy bear to him.

"No, no its okay. I'm glad you woke me up, I was missing my girl"

He said, looking down at you with a small grin. Good fucking God was he trying to make you go crazy?? You looked at him with a soft smile admiring him

"Someone seems a bit needy tonight"

You teased in a gentle manner.

"I missed you. Could you blame me for being needy? Plus, you looked so good up there."

Your heart fluttered at his compliment. He was so so sweet to you, better than any other man you had been with.

"Well I guess I could give in , but it wouldn't be as fun as teasing you"

You murmured in his ear while wiggling from his arms to straddle his lap. He was shirtless in pj pants. What a sight for sore eyes. There couldn't have been a better man than him.

"Tease me and I swear sweetheart you'll regret it"

Leon softly whispered. Despite his warning, you started to slowly tease him, grinding against his lap, arousing him.

"You know I don't like to listen"

You teased slightly, picking up the pace. You could tell he wanted to just take you off his lap and POUND you into the bed.

"Jesus H Christ"

He groaned. After a bit of letting you get your way, bam, he took you off his lap and put you on the bed, kissing you on the neck and chest as he did it. With you're consent he took off your top and bottoms, leaving you in whatever was under them.

You know up the rest, babes😚