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uceyliyahh · 1 day ago

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IMPERFECT FOR YOU

summary: Miyori and Jey were in a relationship for three years until she saw him laid up with another girl that wasn’t her and it broke her heart so she decided block him on everything and focus on her career until she gets a text message from him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 5964

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Miyori

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @li-da-savage @ctinadiva @clubsoft

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @lilucey @usoinked @christinabae

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @prettyfilmz

𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖙𝖊

OMNISCIENT The morning sun streamed through the curtains, accompanied by the cheerful songs of birds, as the clock approached eight. Jey and Miyori lay peacefully in bed, his arms encircling her waist, drawing her snugly against the comforting warmth of his body.

Jey was the first to rise, stirring before Miyori. He rubbed his eyes softly to clear his vision and reached for his phone with care, determined not to disturb her slumber. As he scrolled through the notifications, he noticed messages from Jaida and Jimmy, likely something significant from his brother. He read the texts carefully, absorbing every detail.

Twin📌 sent a message

Twin📌: yo uce you need to get Jaida bro she's fucking crashing out banging on the damn door

He let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes.

iMessage 💬 Jey📌: what?

Twin📌: yeah she came up here early in the damn morning banging on the fucking door of the tour bus me and Trin thought that it was a burglar tryna come in

Jey📌: what did she want?

Twin📌: she was looking for you and crashing out like a fucking maniac Uce

Jey📌: sigh well I'm with Miyori right now at the hotel it's nun much I can do until we leave for the airport today.

Twin📌: you talked to her about coming on tour?

Jey📌: yeah she agreed to it

Twin📌: FINALLY I GET TO SEE MY SIS

Jey📌: here you go dawg did she leave at least?

Twin📌: yeah, but she said she'll be back if she does imma have Trin handle her bc I can’t

Jey📌: aight well we'll be there soon I'll text you

Twin📌: aight then

Upon messaging his brother about Jaida's alarming texts that seemed to threaten both him and Miyori, he felt a surge of discomfort. Displeased by her tone, he swiftly blocked her and set his phone back down on the small dresser.

He settled into the bed, resting his chin on Miyori's shoulder. As she nestled back against him, he instinctively wrapped his arm around her, planting soft, lingering kisses on her neck. The gentle caress stirred her from her slumber, making her shift slightly.

She pressed herself against him as he drew her nearer, the warmth emanating from his body enveloping her. As he showered her with affection, she instinctively turned onto her back, pulling the sheets around her for added comfort.

Jey gazed at her serene form, lost in slumber, as he gently positioned himself between her legs. He wrapped them around his waist, planting soft kisses along her neck and moving toward her face, eliciting a soft groan from her lips. As her eyes slowly opened, she felt his gentle kisses on her neck. She playfully ran her fingers through his mullet, and he looked up at her with a warm smile. He leaned in to plant a tender kiss on her lips, his gaze locked onto her deep chocolate eyes.

"Good morning beautiful." Jey said.

With a warm smile, she cupped his face in her hands, gently stroking his cheeks with her thumb. Leaning in for another kiss, she paused before saying anything.

"Morning, Mr Fatu." Miyori said as Jey chuckled at her.

"Why you gotta be so formal like we ain't together?" Miyori lifted her shoulders in a casual gesture, locking her gaze with his.

They shared a few more tender kisses before it escalated into a passionate make-out session, their tongues playfully battling for control, intertwining in a sensual dance. Miyori's fingers wove through his hair, pulling him closer as her desire intensified.

She playfully nibbled on the edge of his lips, tugging it back before diving back into the kiss, which brought a smirk to his face.

He playfully smacked her backside a few times, eliciting soft whines from her as she gradually moved against him, feeling his arousal pressing against her.

"Ma, we can do this later. we gotta head to airport." Jey murmured between the kiss.

Miyori huffed in frustration, breaking away from the kiss and pouting her lips like a sulky child. While he found her adorable, he wasn't about to give in to her playful antics.

"Un-Un, don't do that. we got to get ready baby girl."

She let out a gentle sigh as she rose from his lap and made her way to the small dresser, eager to see if she had any missed messages or calls. But as she glanced at her phone, her heart skipped a beat; a message from Aaron had appeared, leaving her momentarily frozen in shock.

Last night, as she and Jey were making the headboard thump against the wall, Aaron's text message sent a chill down her spine. Yet, she reassured herself that if she was going on tour with Jey, he wouldn't dare harm her, would he?

She set her down on the small dresser and made her way to the bathroom, where Jey was showering alone, the sound of Miyori entering the room reaching his ears.

Miyori stepped into the shower, the warmth enveloping her as she embraced him, resting her head against his back. It felt soothing and right to be so close.

"You good mamas?" Jey turned his body to face her petite frame as he asked.

She nodded in agreement, her gaze locked onto his deep chocolate eyes. If she were to be truthful with herself, a wave of anxiety washed over her, even after their conversation the previous night. There was an unsettling feeling stirring inside her that she couldn't quite shake off.

She was reluctant to discuss it, yet she knew that keeping it bottled up would only gnaw at her from within.

She averted her gaze from him, shifting to the side to cleanse her body, until he drew her nearer, his rigid arousal pressing against her.

As she lathered her body, she felt his soft kisses brushing against her neck, holding her close to him, ensuring she wouldn’t slip away.

He encircled her throat with his hand and pressed his lips against hers, initiating a slow and tender kiss that took her by surprise for a moment. However, it didn't take long for her to respond and get lost in the moment.

As they fervently kissed in the shower, she gently stroked his face with her free hand.

With a swift motion, she twisted her body to meet his gaze as he lifted her by the thighs, pressing her against the chilly shower wall behind them, eliciting a deep sigh from her at the sensation.

His lips glided along her jawline, descending to her neck as he gently sucked, both of them becoming lost in the moment, captivated by the soft moans that slipped from her lips.

Her fingers wove through his curls, pulling him nearer as she craved more, yet the reality of their tight schedule loomed over her, reminding her that they wouldn't be able to see this through.

"You so lucky we are on a time schedule, if we weren't I would've fuck you in the shower."

"God, you're such a horny specimen." Miyori said while chuckling.

"I'm only this way for you Ma." She gave him an exasperated look while they both continued to shower together.

☞ At last, they arrived at their destination, disembarking from the plane with their bags in tow as they strolled toward the exit. As they walked, a surge of anxiety washed over Miyori, her mind racing with the fear that he might have grown weary of her during their tour.

Lately, that topic has been weighing heavily on her mind, particularly after their recent conversation about it. It continues to trouble her, yet she prefers to wait for him to mention it first, as she feels her energy is not quite right.

As Jey chatted on the phone with his twin brother, arranging for him to pick them up from the airport, Miyori was busy texting Jasmine. Her best friend had been anxious about her ever since the incident involving her and Aaron.

iMessage 💬 Mimi💓: Hey bestie Jazzy💜: hey girly did yall make it? Mimi💓: yeah we just landed in ATL just waiting on Trin and Jon to come pick us up Jazzy💜: I bet Josh couldn't keep his hands off of you huh? 😭 Mimi💓: girl please yk how he is whenever it comes to me Jazzy💜: something wrong bestie? Mimi💓: how did you know? Jazzy💜: you're my best friend ofc but what's on your mind? Mimi💓: what if he gets tired of me Jazzy? Jazzy💜: of what? y'all two being together 24/7? Mimi💓: yeah, like I'm just worried you know and then Jaida around here like a crazy ass ex so I'm not sure Jazzy💜: I understand bestie but you can't let your mind and all of that negativity get to you he didn't work this hard just to play in your face again Mimi Mimi💓: that's true I didn't make him work hard for nun Jazzy💜: EXACTLY keep that nigga in check and feining for you and only you Mimi💓: now I feel better it's nice venting to you about things bestie Jazzy💜: that's what I'm here for girl but go on now before he starts trippin' Mimi💓: I'll text you later bestie luv you ❤️ Jazzy💜: love you more

After messaging Jasmine, she noticed that Jey was still chatting on the phone with her twin brother. To pass the time, she chose to keep herself occupied. While engaged in her activities, a message suddenly appeared on her screen.

She glanced at the name, fully aware it was Aaron behind the menacing messages directed at her. With everything going on in Atlanta, she simply didn’t have the bandwidth to handle his nonsense.

Pumpkin 🧡 sent a message

Pumpkin 🧡: you can't run away from me forever Mimi we were supposed to be together forever maybe if you weren't in your head so much and asking me questions we wouldn't be here

Miyori sighed in exasperation at his message before blocking him, determined to avoid any further communication. She felt secure with Jey—at least, that’s what she believed. As she mindlessly scrolled through her social media, she noticed Jey approaching her, standing right in front of her, prompting her to lift her gaze to meet his.

"What? Is there something on my face?" She questioned him.

"Nah, you just look hella pretty mamas. I can't admire you?" Jey spoke gently while Miyori let out a soft laugh at his expense.

"You can admire me all you want sir." Jey leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on her lips, which prompted her to reciprocate, leading to a flurry of sweet kisses before he finally drew back.

A smile spread across her face as she watched him, aware that his mind was racing with countless thoughts about their tour together. She hoped he wouldn’t grow weary of her constant presence. There was something special about their time apart; it made their reunions feel more intimate, as if each moment together was a cherished gift rather than a routine encounter.

At that moment, a honk echoed from outside, drawing their attention to Jim and Trin, who were parked at the airport entrance, eagerly awaiting their arrival. As soon as they stepped out, Jey and Jim jumped in to assist with their luggage, which was quite manageable. Meanwhile, Miyori took a moment to inform Kelly that she would be stepping away for a bit to handle some personal matters.

"Finally I get to spend time with my girl!" Trinity exclaimed with a smile on her face.

"Yeah, me too girl like goodness. We barely get to see each other." Miyori replied.

"Hell yeah, girl you get to see it all especially all of the places we be going to. you're going to love it."

Miyori grinned at her friend as they spotted the guys arriving in a car, glancing back at them as if they were mere children. In a playful response, both girls stuck out their tongues, prompting the guys to laugh at their antics just as Jimmy started to drive away.

The car journey was enjoyable, filled with good vibes as they jammed to the tunes from Jim and Trin's playlist. Meanwhile, Miyori sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the sun illuminating the sky, making her dark chocolate skin radiate with a heavenly glow, as if she were an angel.

As she sat in the car, surrounded by everyone engrossed in their own activities, she noticed her phone buzzing with a message from Jey.

Joshua🖤 sent a message

Joshua🖤: you good back there mamas?

iMessage 💬 Mimi💓: yeah I'm fine just enjoying the sun being in my face that's all

Joshua🖤: you been quiet ever since we hopped in the car is there something you wanna tell me?

Mimi💓: no? not at the moment until we are on the tour bus

Joshua🖤: so you basically do have something to tell me then😭

Mimi💓: omg yes I do but I rather discuss in private also do we have our own bedroom?

Joshua🖤: you'll see when we get there Ma can't be telling you everything

Mimi💓: ughhh you are no fun Joshy😓

Joshua🖤: ew don't ever call me that again please 😭

Mimi💓: what? Joshy?

Joshua🖤: stop it Mimi

Mimi💓: or what?

Jey glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Miyori, who wore a playful smirk on her lips. She delighted in teasing him, pushing his buttons just to see him get worked up.

Joshua🖤: you so nasty mamas

Mimi💓: I'm only nasty for you tho Papa

Joshua🖤: mhm just wait until we be alone together then you can show me how nasty you is

Mimi💓: I will I'm not backing down

Joshua🖤: yeah, we'll see Ma

Miyori immediately smacked her lips and rolled her eyes at his message. He believed he was superior in being dominant, yet she had him acting like a total fool, just as Jimmy had pointed out, all because of her fierce attitude.

Mimi💓: don't act like I didn't have you acting like a complete fool over me just to win me over having you in a mess don't play with me Joshua

Joshua🖤: don't play with me Miyori there you go talking reckless you ain't gonna be like that until I fuck the shit outta you

Mimi💓: you ain't gonna do shi nigga

Joshua🖤: 🤨 you wanna bet that up?

Mimi💓: mhm I do

Joshua🖤: aight bet don't be runnin from me either

Mimi💓: I won't I promise you that

She was fully aware that she was completely lying about not running away, especially when it came to him. In his presence, all she could do was feel twisted up like a pretzel, and she knew he would surely make her regret what she had said.

Miyori chose to shut her eyes and catch some sleep until they reached the tour bus they were all sharing, as Jim and Trin were scheduled to pick them up from the airport.

☞ MIYORI Trin jolted me awake, announcing that we had finally arrived at the tour bus after what felt like an eternity on the road. As I stepped out of the car, I carefully removed my AirPods from my ears and tucked them into my PodCase.

I was taken aback by the sheer size of the tour bus. As I watched Jim and Jey unloading our luggage, Trin and I stepped inside, where she began to show me around the bus and its surroundings.

She gave me a tour of the bedroom that Jey and I will be sharing, along with her and Jim's room. The entire bus exuded a cozy atmosphere, making me feel as if I had returned home once more.

The bathrooms are tastefully adorned in a soft light grey, complemented by stunning marble tile floors. I found myself captivated, my imagination wandering to playful thoughts about Jey and me.

'This is how they be living? If I would've know about this four years ago me and him would probably still be together as we speak.'

I settled into the room, switching on the TV as I stretched out on the bed, making myself comfortable for what I knew would be a lengthy journey to the next state. As I relaxed, I heard Jey enter the bedroom, dragging our luggage and setting it down beside the closet door, his gaze fixed on me.

He had caught me lounging in one of my favorite positions, one leg stretched out and the other propped up, my head resting on the pillow as I immersed myself in my show, completely oblivious to his presence in the room.

He removed his shirt, revealing his toned physique as he closed the door behind him. Climbing into bed beside me, he enveloped me in his strong arms, drawing me close to his warm body, the heat emanating from his sun-kissed skin.

I could sense his firm arousal pressing against me as he trailed soft, wet kisses along my neck. In that moment, I realized I had crossed a line by speaking so boldly to him in the car, and I was definitely in over my head.

I decided not to focus on him this time. I was determined not to surrender my attention so readily as I usually do, allowing him to take charge. This time, I wanted to take the reins myself.

"You gon' keep ignoring me?" He says as he unbuttoned my shorts sliding his hand down inside of my laced panties and began rubbing my pussy.

I rolled my eyes in the back of my head while he was doing that making me bite the bottom of my lips as he used his available hand wrapping it around my throat gaining some control over me.

I managed to gain control over the situation as I slide my hand down his shorts and boxers guiding my hand up and down his shaft causing a hum to escape his pretty lips since he wanted to play so much with this.

His hand tightened around my throat, "Keep playing with me Mimi I won't hesitate to fuck you." His voice was deep and raspy.

I had a smirk appearing on my face as I took his hand out of my shorts pinning him down on the bed which caught him off guard seeing my eyes become dark filled with nothing but lust.

I pulled down his shorts along with his boxers seeing his harden member spring up hitting him in the stomach it was so long, and thick my mouth was watering at the sight of it.

I got on my knees and began moving his shaft up and down seeing pre-cum glistening out from it as he gazed down at me with his lustful eyes.

"I want you to submit to me Papa." I said as I began going down on him.

(MINI SMUT WARNING - MIYORI AND JEY) Miyori was bobbing her head up and down along with her fingers up and down on his shaft swirling her tongue around the head of it hearing his precious moans escaping his lips watching her take control.

He had his hand wrapped around Miyori's hair as she continued to go down on him he was trying his hardest not to thrust his hips inside of her mouth but he couldn't help it: it felt so good.

He watched her take him completely inside of her throat as Miyori had relaxed her throat as much as she could gazing up at him, she began to show his balls some loving sucking on each individual balls while stroking his dick up and down while he threw his head back onto the headboard

"Just like that mamas, oh fuck just like that." He moaned.

Miyori brushed her thumb around the head of his cock making him clench his thighs together while rolling his eyes in the back of his head, she went back to sucking him off causing her to gag but relaxed her throat in the process.

She swallowed him whole and half-gagged enjoying the searing sensation she was experiencing at the moment. She had him twitching and shaking due to her tongue caressing down his shaft.

"Mamasss, ohhh fuck. keep sucking me off just like that baby girl..." his guttural moan escaped his lips feeling her hands rubbing against his chest and throat which caught him off guard for a second because she never like this before.

She moaned against his dick feeling all of her spit drooling down on his shaft making a complete mess on him feeling her tongue gliding down his dick.

As she relaxed her throat she allowed him to put a few more inches down her throat taking all of him as much as she could.

She had a good rhythm going while feeling his dick twitch inside of her mouth as she felt her pussy being soaking wet and throbbing waiting any moment to just pounce on him like a lion.

Her thumb kept brushing up against his sensitive tip leaving him feeling like he was on cloud nine for a moment. "Fuck, ma, fuck." Jey felt like he was losing himself right then and there.

His cock brushed against her throat feeling his balls tightened as she ground onto him, his cock had a slight curve to him banging against her throat but she didn't mind it at all.

All you could hear were sloppy noises coming from her lips as all of her drool was trickling down her face she love the way he sounded and wasn't afraid to show it either.

Miyori wanted to show how dominant she could be without him taking control of the situation she wanted him to be submissive to her and let him give her his body and soul.

His dick twitched again causing Jey to roll his eyes in the back of his head gripping onto the sheets tightly.

She removed her lips from his aching cock, stroking his dick up and down while staring into his eyes innocently smiling at him in the process, "you gonna cum for me papa?" She asked as her tone changed into a soft voice.

He felt a lump in his throat as he swallowed it before speaking.

"Yes, I'm finna nut mamas. let me nut mamas please."

Miyori liked the way he was begging for her and only her she's probably going to be embarrassed about this due to Jimmy and Trin being on the bus.

She continued to stroke his dick up and down watching him lose control as he gripped onto her shoulders tightly.

"Fuckk I'm finna nut baby girl, fuckkk." Jey had pushed down her head as his warm seeds filled her throat up with ease causing her to swallow the savory flavor.

He kept her like this until he was done unloading his warm seeds inside of her throat making sure that she swallowed every single bit of it.

Miyori pulled away from his cock making that popping effect come out as she kissed his dick smiling at him in the process while his breath was shaky chuckling at her.

SMUT OVER.

As I rose from my knees and stepped into the bathroom to wash my face, I noticed that my lips had taken on a purple hue, and a sharp pain lingered at the back of my throat.

I suddenly heard a loud banging on the door from outside, reminiscent of a police raid, which startled me. I could hear Jimmy shouting for one of us to step outside; it sounded urgent, as if he had something significant to share that required our immediate attention.

As Jey continued to recover from the recent events, I took a moment to dry my face after washing it. I then stepped out of the bedroom to see what was going on, leaving Jey alone in our room.

I made my way over to Jimmy and Trin, eager to find out what was going on.

"What's going on?" I inquired while Jimmy gestured toward the door, prompting me to glance outside and spot her standing there with her arms crossed.

Upon realizing my presence among them, it was clear that her anger flared at the sight of me there instead of her, as she erupted into a furious shout.

"what the fuck is she doing here?! Where's Jey!" Jaida shouted.

"Girl, I would advise you to stop fucking yelling and what are you doing here banging on the door like that?"

She smacked her lips at me while rolling her eyes, "I don't have to answer to you bitch actually I should come in there and beat your ass you slut."

I gathered my hair into a bun and removed my charm bracelets and earrings while instructing Jimmy to open the door. Just then, Jey grabbed my arm, pulling me back as I gazed up at him.

He shook his head, treating me like a child attempting to dive into trouble that was best avoided at the moment, while I let out a deep whine.

"Not today mamas, I don't need you whooping her ass she's not worth it let me handle this." Jey said as I nodded my head standing behind him.

As he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before stepping out to take care of Jaida, I found myself merely a spectator, watching the scene unfold before me.

I still harbored doubts about him, a fact he was unaware of since we had already discussed it previously, making it pointless to bring it up again.

Trinity noticed that my energy felt different as she settled beside me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I met her gaze with a smile.

"Girl, I know that look what's wrong?" Trinity said.

"It's nothing Trin I promise." I said avoiding her question.

She shot me that unmistakable parental glare, and I let out a heavy sigh, fully aware that there was no escaping this situation. "girl don't tell me you're overthinking things about this? This would be a great opportunity for you and Jey to speak on what happened."

"It's not even just that, I just feel like he'll get tired of me during all of this you know? Then I'm dealing with Aaron too?" I replied.

"Girl what? I don't think Jey wouldn't get tired of you hell if I'm being honest he didn't stop talking about you when y'all two were apart."

I wished I could trust her words, but deep down, I knew she was likely just saying that because he’s her brother-in-law. All I could do was nod along, feeling nauseated as I watched him and Jaida go at each other, their voices rising in a heated exchange.

I informed Trin and Jon that I was going to return to the bedroom to wrap up my show. They noticed that my energy had been off throughout the entire conversation between Jaida and Jey.

"She good Trin?"

"I don't know her energy seemed a bit off today Jerdy, she's worried about your brother."

"Aye that's something they gotta talk about we don't need no more drama on this tour."

I closed the door softly and settled back into the same position, focusing on my show. Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit off, perhaps because I’m concerned that he might grow weary of everything happening around us.

Should I keep my distance just in case his mood changes? I mean I agreed to this so that I wouldn't have to deal with Aaron's bullshit.

"No, remember what Jasmine said Mimi. Keep that nigga in check and feining over you." I said to myself while my eyes were glued onto the TV.

☞ OMNISCIENT As everyone prepared to depart for the next state after watching Trinity's match tonight, Miyori made her way toward the tour bus. Just then, she spotted two familiar faces peeking out from behind a car parked next to the bus.

As she approached, she realized it was Jey and Jaida deep in conversation once more. Curiosity bubbled within her—what could they possibly be discussing this time? However, not wanting to stir the pot, she decided to walk by, catching a hint of their dialogue before stepping onto the tour bus.

"C'mon Jey, you know you miss me already." Jaida said.

Jey let out a soft laugh, resting his hands on his hips. "Look imma need you to stop showing up and popping up here aight? I don't miss you at all."

"You're saying that now, but will be texting me the next day."

Jey rolled his eyes, then snatched up his backpack and suitcase as he made his way to the tour bus.

"Are you that delusional Jaida?" Jey questioned her.

"Only for you, you know where home is boy." As she climbed into her car and drove off, Jey let out a sigh while boarding the tour bus. He hadn't seen Miyori all day and couldn't help but wonder where she might be.

As he pushed open the bedroom door, he found her sprawled on the bed, absorbed in her phone as she scrolled through social media, seemingly oblivious to his arrival. Something felt amiss; she usually showered him with affection, lavishing him with kisses.

He set his backpack and suitcase beside the closet door, moving in her direction. In an instant, he seized her ankles, pulling her toward the edge of the bed, catching her by surprise as their eyes locked.

Without giving her a chance to object, he lifted her effortlessly, tucking her legs around his waist. He settled her onto his lap, his hands securely encircling her waist.

"I haven't seen you all day where were you at?" Jey asked.

"I was in Trinity's locker room meeting her friends and their husband's." She replied.

"What's wrong Mimi?" She gazed at him with a comforting smile, trying to convey that all was well, but he wasn't convinced. Her behavior had been notably distant ever since his conversation with Jaida earlier that day. "Mimi"

"Yes?"

"Imma ask you again, what's wrong?"

"J-Josh..I-I..."

"I'm not playing Mimi what's up?"

Miyori let out a heavy sigh, realizing that escaping this situation with him was impossible due to his keen perception. "I'm starting to think that I should just head back home for bit." He raised an eyebrow at her when she said that.

"We just got here and you want to go back home why?" Miyori kept her reasons for wanting to return home to herself, even though she was fully aware of them, despite Aaron's wild antics all around her.

She averted her gaze, focusing on anything but him, prompting him to gently lift her chin, compelling her to meet his intense gaze.

"Talk to me Mimi, don't be like that."

She sighed softly, "what's the point of speaking on it if we already discussed it last night? I don't want you to sound like a broken record, I—" Miyori paused for a moment to collect herself before rising from his lap, turning her back to him as she stood up.

"Is there anything I need to know about you two?" Jey had raised an eyebrow at her in confusion of what she meant by that.

Suddenly, it dawned on him that her behavior stemmed from the events of earlier that day and witnessing their conversation once more. Without hesitation, he rose from the bed, enveloping her waist in his arms and resting his neck gently against her shoulders.

"Mamas." He called out to her.

"Just tell me and let me know so I can leave I don't wanna waste my time."

"Mimi there's nothing happening between Jaida and I—I told you we are done."

"Show me your phone." Jey followed instructions, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to her.

Miyori was aware that the password to his phone was her birthday. As she began to browse through his gallery and messages, Jey observed her actions closely. He understood that her intentions weren't rooted in insecurity; rather, she was seeking reassurance and clarity.

That's when she had seen a message from Jaida on his IMessage.

Jaida: you really gonna leave me for her?

"What was this all about?" Miyori asked showing him the message.

"That's when I broke up with her and she kept texting me from different numbers."

"So what was yall talking bout out there before you came in here messing with me?" Her voice carried a firm tone, yet it wasn't disrespectful. Jey found it unappealing, but he grasped the reasoning behind her words. "Mimi, watch that tone of yours."

"I'm not I have the right to know Josh aight? I don't need you playing in my fucking fac—" Jey grasped her throat gently, pressing his lips against hers to silence her.

His tongue danced within her mouth, savoring every inch, before he shifted his lips to her neck, showering her with soft, lingering kisses.

"You tryna keep me in check or what?" He murmured softly.

"Yes, that's what I'm doing. I don't have time to be playing these games with you Joshua." She says

"You know I love you and only you, I meant what I said last night Mimi."

She scoffed while rolling her eyes, "actions speak louder than words papa you didn't answer my question."

"I told her she was delusional and she should stop popping up here."

Miyori heard those words just before stepping onto the tour bus. She let out a deep sigh, attempting to break free from Jey's hold, but he only responded by tightening his arm around her waist and keeping his hand firmly around her throat.

"She doesn't have nothing on you mamas, she isn't like you. She don't be getting me all riled up like this like you do baby girl." With that Jey had placed her hand on his harden member as she gripped it gently with her smalls hands hearing a slight groan escape his lips.

"I feel like you're just saying that." He immediately shook his head.

"Mimi I told you last night I want this to work out again and I wanna do better for us I'm serious."

She gazed into his eyes, searching for honesty in his words. Jey had always been a man of his word, steadfast in his promises, and as Mimi peered deeply into his warm, chocolate-brown eyes, she could sense that truthfulness shining through.

"Show me. Show me how much you love me and only me." Miyori said.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jey lifted her by the thighs, gently laying her back onto the bed. His large hands intertwined with her smaller ones, while he nestled himself between her legs. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and they began to kiss passionately. As Miyori pulled her hands away to tug at his waistband, he swiftly pinned her wrists above her head, locking eyes with her in an intense gaze.

He planted soft, lingering kisses along her jawline, gradually descending to her neck, leaving his mark and eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

"Be patient mamas, daddy gon' take care of you aight?"

Throughout the remainder of the evening, she and Jey lost themselves in each other, their passion igniting as if the world outside ceased to exist. The sounds of their fervent intimacy echoed through the tour bus, drowning out everything else.

Jey had her in backshots with her back bend over down to her stomach giving him more leverage to go deeper and deeper inside of her inner walls.

"Keep taking this dick mamas, this is all yours." Jey grunted.

"All m-mines?" Miyori asked while stumbling on her words due to his intense thrust.

"All fucking yours baby girl, all yours. Jaida doesn't compare to you Ma. Gimme' this fucking pussy girl."

Once more, they found themselves swept away by the excitement when Miyori's phone chimed, casting a flash on the ceiling. Jey quickly snatched it up, unlocking the screen to discover a message from Jasmine, along with a text from an unfamiliar number.

Jazzy💜 sent a message

Jazzy💜: Mimi Aaron is sending me scary messages about harming me if I didn't tell him where you were at I'm scared.

Unknown number sent a message

Unknown number: Sweetheart I didn't find you at your house nor at your job I tired to ask Kelly where you at but she didn't give me a answer not even your own best friend didn't give it to me, don't worry tho imma find you and kill that mutt of yours.

IMPERFECT FOR YOU.

a/n: heyyy im back with another update! I've been resting since i got my tooth pulled out 2 days ago so I really haven't been on here as much lately. Buuut what do yall think will happen next? Will Jey tell Miyori and handle it or will something bad happen?

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below ⬇️

STAY UCEY

#jey uso #black fanfic writer #black writers #black oc #wwelove #black reader #jey x oc black #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #jey uso smut #Spotify

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kaysfanficcorner · 2 days ago

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Out of this World Chapter 11: There's No Other Way

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling Reader/OC

Summary: The Mandalorian and The Earthling travel back to Nevarro to ask Greef Karga for a favor. They soon find that they are not the only visitors to Nevarro this time around.

Author's Note: Welcome back to my little corner of the fanfiction realm! This chapter was another fun one to write. Again, I am drawing from the second season of the show while following the plot I have mapped out, so keep that in mind as I continue to somewhat bastardize the cannon events. As always Din is a sweet soft boy, but in this chapter I played around with a fun side of him for a moment. The relationship between these two is so sweet that my teeth are starting to rot. I hope ya'll are here for it as much as I am!

***** = a break in the scene or a switch between character pov.

Mando'a: Ner - my Burc’ya - friend Cyare - beloved Cyar'ika - darling Dush - bad Jate - good Dala - woman Verd - warrior Vor entye - thank you Yooba solus - you are Ni ganar ori'jate bajurad - I have an excellent teacher (roughly translated)

Warnings: SMUT - 🌶️🌶️🌶️ This chapter is the spiciest yet, rough blowjob, rough sex, slightly dom!Din, bratty earthling, dirty talk; FLUFF - I'm telling you, rotten teeth from this shit; the usual cursing; jealousy; lots of feelings; I guess me changing the show's plot around is a warning?

Minors DNI, Strictly 18+

AO3

*****

Once again Din Djarin finds himself making a trip across the vast galaxy to the planet of Nevarro with you by his side. The strange Earthling woman who somehow managed to collect the bounty he hadn't realized was up for grabs on his heart. It's been a few days since the departure from Tatooine. The Razor Crest and her crew are still several days away from their next destination, and life feels good for the small little makeshift family.

Things are back to normal, while also feeling somewhat foreign at the same time. Din's inner turmoil about the child remains the same, at the forefront of his mind, but things between you and himself feel so incredible. So easy. The trust between the two of you feels more solidified, at least from Din's perspective of the relationship. Though he suspects you've been feeling the same way based on how affectionate you've been towards him. It's similar to how things were before Tatooine, only dialed up to a ten.

He assumes it has something to do with the subject of marriage being brought up, and the good conversation that had spurred between the two of you because of it. It's still wild to him that it's even a conversation that's been had already. When Din really stops to think about it, back on his beloved Razor Crest where he can think clearly, he's glad that the subject was addressed so soon. If you were to wake up tomorrow and tell him you wanted to end things, Din would be heartbroken but he would know that it is your right to do so at any time. That fact had been a possibility in the back of his head so much at the beginning of this, especially when he thought you may still want to return to Earth one day. But to know that you want him enough to consider being his wife in the future, that makes things feel different for him. To Din, since that conversation you've felt more like his wife than anything else he can think to label you.

Maker, what did he do to deserve the devoted love of another person like this? Did saving the kid right every wrong he's ever committed? In all his years Din would have never guessed this for his future. Especially since he'd written off the idea of ever being truly with someone in this way so long ago. Even as a young man who'd perhaps wanted this sort of thing with another at one time, he'd never imagined that it could feel like this. It's so peaceful, in a way that continues to surprise him the longer it lingers within his chest. That peaceful contentment fills Din Djarin's body with a new kind of warmth which sinks all the way down into his once weary bones, making him feel more and more like a new man each day.

Currently dressed in very casual clothing he does not wear very often, he's attempting to feel completely relaxed without the several pounds of beskar that usually adorns his person. Being without his armor used to make him feel the opposite of relaxed, so he's trying his best to maintain a calm mind in spite of his instincts to fidget uncomfortably. Ever since you came into his life he seems to find himself without armor more and more. He's in a plain dark short sleeved tunic, a light pair of dark pants, and nothing else save for the helmet.

Din is seated in front of you while you direct him through the various yoga poses you're attempting to teach him. This isn't the first time you've shown him how to do this Earth exercise, but this is the first time Din is taking the learning of it completely seriously. It was his idea, wanting to share in more of your life with you while discovering a new way to move his body. He figured it would be good for him. He also figured that giving you a chance to be his instructor for once may be a fun change of pace for you, considering how increasingly vigorous his Mandalorian teachings have been over the last few days. After Berav, Din realized you were ready to handle much more than what he was throwing at you before. He's no longer scared to push you too far, trusting that you will tell him when or if you've had enough. And so if you're going to follow his lessons with reverence, it's only natural that he does the same in return.

He's definitely not as flexible as you are, so some of the poses are difficult for him to grasp at first. You're doing a very good job of explaining how his body should feel in each pose, which eventually helps him to improve his form. What doesn't help is the fact that you are completely distracting when you gracefully bend and shape your body with ease. You're wearing those black yoga pants from Earth and your cropped black sweater from Nar Shaddaa, the dark purple under garment covering your breasts revealing itself to him every time you do an upside down v pose you call 'downward facing dog'.

The names of these poses all sound so utterly ridiculous, but he's given up on trying to make any sense of them as he attempts to concentrate on your instructions. For reasons that elude him, focusing feels especially difficult today. Din thinks that he finally understands how you've felt in the past when watching his body move during training would cause you to become so easily distracted. He is completely preoccupied by you. Your body looks so strong to him as it easily flows through the moves. That little peek of your bra and the swell of your breasts were the problem at first, but as you move in various different forward folds with your legs straightened out in front of you, the rest of your body soon joins in on his misplaced focus.

Din's sitting paralleled to your left, his own legs stretched before him as he attempts to fold forward the same way. There is a gap of about three feet between the two of you, and he can't help but marvel at how much shorter your legs are than his. How much daintier your feet are. Din's eyes keep flicking to those small bare feet, the toenails painted that shimmery black varnish from Earth that somehow hasn't run out yet. Fuck, he could really use to kiss the soft soles and work his way slowly up from the toes to the bony ankles to the plump calves, all the way up the thick thighs to the delicious prize that lies between them.

Shit. He's already getting a little hard just thinking about it.

“Hey, Chrome Dome, are you listening to me over there?” You say this with an amused look on your face, which is staring at him from its odd position on the ground. You're folded so completely in half over your one bent leg that your torso is pressed all the way to the floor, and you're clearly at least a pose or two ahead of where Din left off. “You know, if you crane your neck like that too much in these poses you'll hurt yourself.”

Slowly pulling his abdomen in, he rolls his spine to sit back up with the proper form you've strictly instructed him to use when coming out of these folds. Din moves to a comfortable seated position facing you, a loud sigh escaping him with a hiss through his modulator as he shakes his head. “Now I know how it feels to be you, getting distracted during training.”

“I don't do that nearly as often anymore,” you say, moving slowly to reposition yourself to a seated position as well. Your feet are flat on the floor and your knees are drawn in towards you a little, hands also flat on the floor behind your back to prop you up. A haughty little smirk crosses your features as you take on that awful accent you do from time to time when you're being intentionally funny. “Did I,” you say your name, gesturing to yourself, “manage to distract the galaxy's fiercest Mandalorian warrior with my unbelievably desirable body and witty charm? Oh my, is that a big bulge in his pants I see? All because of little old me? I do declare!”

“Mm, it's because of you alright. And I had a mind to give it to you nicely, but now you're just acting like a brat,” Din says, head tilting to the side as he mulls over the impulse he's feeling in his gut. Your little routine was indeed funny to him, but the ache of desire stirring in his core wants to guide this in a very particular direction. “I think I may need to put you in your place for that, ner dush cyar'ika.”

A lustful look crosses your features and Din feels pleased with himself for causing it. That's the look you get when he knows you'll do practically anything for a taste of his cock. Din truly loves it so much, the way you can transform into a hungry little heathen at a moment's notice. He enjoys the lascivious desperation in your eyes when you mewl, begging for him to take you in that whining wanton voice you use only for him in the most private of moments. Suddenly he's ready to make those noises emerge from your delicate throat once again, and it's all he can do not to lunge forward to rip the clothes from your body.

Instead he decides to play a little more, “What's the matter, love? Nothing to say now?”

Shaking your head, you look right into the visor at his hidden eyes. Then your legs part a few inches, exposing your clothed mound to him. Perhaps it's on purpose, but more than likely Din thinks it's involuntary. He can tell your body is already reacting to him and he hasn't even touched you yet. Having this effect on you is so intoxicating.

“Come on,” he begins to crawl forward, “you speak more than anyone I've ever met. There's got to be something you can think of to say. Where's that bratty fucking mouth of yours now, huh?”

Your eyes suddenly glance anxiously to the ceiling, expression shifting as you look at him seriously. “You think the kid will stay asleep upstairs?”

Din's tone easily slips back into the softer one he uses normally, his body softening a little. “I'd say we've got about an hour.”

Nodding, you've suddenly returned to that concupiscent countenance and your own tone finds its way back to the bratty one you'd used a moment ago. “And just how does a big strong Mandalorian put a little Earthling brat in her place anyway? Especially without all of his fancy accouterments?”

Din growls, voice becoming slightly domineering again, “What does that word mean?”

You grin, the look of it completely prideful. “It's from a country on my world called France. It means additional equipment used for a particular activity. So without all your fancy Mando gear, I mean. The handcuffs would be a nice accouterment right about now. Yeah that might just be enough to put me in my place. But I dunno, I am feeling pretty bratty today.”

There it is. That's the thing Din needed to send him over the edge.

*****

Din descends on you so quickly that you're completely taken off guard when he's right in front of you and his swollen cock is suddenly in your face, the engorged tip of it emerging from the soft foreskin. You hadn't even seen him unfasten his pants let alone stand up. His left hand is wrapped around the base, positioning himself right in front of your eyes. You look up at him, the sight of his beskar helmet tilted down to look at you enough to make the heat between your legs become a full fledged fire.

“Up on your knees. I thought of a better use for that mouth,” he says down to you with that commanding tone he uses from time to time, the thumb of his right hand tracing your bottom lip while he cradles your chin as you comply.

Even with the rough rouse he's putting on, the way Din touches your face is so deliberately gentle and loving. It feels so good to trust him this much, to know that he's being this way with you and at the end of the day it all still just stems from a place of deep love and friendship. The two of you may not have been sleeping together for that long, but you've learned enough about what makes him tick to know that this is just a kinky little act. You like rough sex sprinkled in with passionate emotional sex, and so does he. But neither of you have any intention of ever hurting the other physically or emotionally. It's all in good fun, and if it ever were to not feel fun you know he would stop and vice versa.

And right now? This feels fucking fun. With Din you're able to play in a way that you haven't played with anyone, and you know in your heart of hearts that he's the playmate you've always hoped for. The one you can easily see yourself doing kinky shit with for the rest of your weird life.

Parting your lips, you grin as his thumb enters your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue while you suckle the appendage gently. When he removes the thumb and leans forward some, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anticipation.

“You ready to be a good girl for me or are you still feeling like a fucking brat?” Din asks, his voice working you over with how sexy it sounds when he's like this.

“Can't I be both?” You ask not-so-innocently, your tongue snaking out from between your teeth to flick at the precum leaking from him.

Then his free hand finds your hair, longer now by a few months and easier for him to yank at. Imagining him holding on to a ponytail in a similar fashion makes you wish it would grow out that much faster. So yank he does, pulling enough to cause a dull bit of pain but not enough to really hurt you. You gasp at the shock of it, and when your lips part even more he uses the opportunity to guide himself into your open mouth.

Working him with your mouth doesn't even feel possible, not when Din is fucking your face more than he ever has before. Your hands fly to his strong thighs to steady yourself as he holds your head, thrusting his length down your throat as far as it can go without making you gag too harshly. The girth of him doesn't help much either, causing you to have to open as widely as you can to take him all the way in. All the way isn't even the whole thing. There's about an inch and a half between your lips and the base. It feels like a complete mystery as to how the whole thing fits inside you without tearing you open each time.

Gagging and drooling, you take as much of his relentless bucking as you can until he suddenly stops and holds himself down your throat for a good long moment. Tears begin to well in your eyes from the lack of steady air and the slight pain of it, but just as you think you need to beg him to stop he lays off. He's sliding himself slowly out of your mouth, so you're sure to apply a light amount of pressure to aid his pleasure as he exits. The whining groan that escapes him makes you feel so proud.

That hand in your hair yanks again, gently this time. This one is meant to coax you into looking up at him. When your wet eyes meet the visor you feel as if you can hear him grinning from the other side of the beskar before he even speaks.

“How about now, ner cyar'ika? Good girl or brat? I'd choose wisely if I were you.”

A part of you wants to say 'brat' to really test the limits of this new semi-dominant side of Din he's showing you today, but the ache between your legs has become too great to ignore. If he doesn't touch you soon the pressure of it may actually break you. Relief is the only thing motivating you now.

“Good girl,” you breathe, squirming against his touch.

“Good answer,” he replies, pushing you over to bend at the waist. Thank fuck you put the padding down for your knees before yoga.

Propping yourself up on your forearms with your hips lifted, ass facing Din, a sharp feeling electrifies your body when you feel a hand brush the sensitive flesh between your legs. It causes you to shudder and moan, which in turn causes Din to laugh from behind you. He's not mocking you, he's simply just amused. You're pretty sure at this point that Din Djarin would never mock you for anything.

“Over the clothes and she's practically ready to cum on the spot,” he says through a hearty, rumbling chuckle. “Remember when you were afraid you'd never get to do that? Aren't you so grateful that I make you cum whenever you want now?”

“Yes, Din. So grateful,” you moan between words, the pressure of his fingertips increasing around your steadily swelling clit.

“Let's see just how grateful she is, then,” he replies.

His hands are at the waist of your yoga pants, tugging the fabric over the swell of your ass and stopping halfway down your thighs. You'd foregone underwear so the maneuver feels swift. When two of his fingers enter your warm and welcoming entrance without warning, a loud gasp fills your lungs.

“That's it, cyar'ika, need to get you ready for me.” Din coos, his voice sounding so lovely. “Mm. Very wet today. Perhaps I was not the only one watching the other with lustful eyes. Were you watching me, cyar'ika? Is all this for me?”

“Of course it's for you. How can you expect me to not feel constantly horny around you?” You ask in a sassy tone, looking back at him a little as you pout. “That's just not fair.”

“Is that complaining I hear?” He smacks your ass with his free hand, another sharp gasp escaping you. “What happened to being a good girl, huh? Ner jate dala?”

“I am a good girl,” you whine, pouting even more. He slaps it again and you yelp.

“I'm not convinced. Still needs to be put in her place, I think,” Din grumbles, positioning his cock at your entrance.

When he slides all the way in and a loud moan escapes your lips at the combined pain and pleasure of it, his hand comes around your head to cover your mouth. His palm stifles your cries until they subside and it suddenly slides to the back of your head, fingers once again gripping the tuft of hair. The hand really begins to yank, a little harder than before, and you're forced to arch your back to relieve a little bit of the ache.

Din's cock is pressing painfully into your cervix and he's leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear. God it's so hard to focus when there are so many different feelings assaulting your nerve endings. The hiss of his modulator causes goose-flesh to pepper the skin of your neck and arms.

“I'm going to make one thing perfectly clear and I need to make sure you're listening. Are you listening, love? I know it's hard when I'm buried inside your perfect tight little cunt like this, but I need you to try for me.”

Barely able to think straight, you really have to force yourself to say the word 'yes' in a gooey voice.

A smack to your ass and he's asking, “Yes, what? Need to make sure you're paying attention.”

“Yes, Din,” you hiss his name, breathing heavily as you try in vain to wiggle around into a more comfortable position. It's an impossible task, the grip he has on your hair and his length fastened deep inside of you keeping you glued in place. “I'm paying attention, I swear. Tell me, Din. Please.”

“Good, cyare. Now hear me when I say this: My cock is the only accouterment you'll ever fucking need. Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of his voice and the nature of the words coming out of his mouth are enough to make you feel close to the edge already, like a few pumps of his cock and finger strokes to your throbbing clit will be all it takes to make you crest over into orgasm.

“Yes, Din, yes! Crystal clear! I understand!”

Without another word he begins fucking you so hard that all you can do is stay in the position he's trapped you in and allow your body to get lost in the ecstasy of it.

*****

A few hours later Din is working out the tight muscles of your hamstrings while you lay on the same mat that was rolled out for the short-lived yoga session. After the training he's been putting you through for the last couple of days and the fucking of your life he just gave you, your body is in desperate need of some deep rest and relaxation.

Din's natural sense of what you need from him is so wild to you sometimes. Without needing the concept of 'after-care' explained to him, your cosmic companion made quick work of ensuring that you felt completely safe and secure once the both of you reached satisfying climaxes. He'd been rougher and more domineering than he's been with you up to this point, and somehow he just understood that you would require some extra soft attention from him in the aftermath of such an encounter.

And so he'd held you and said all of the loving things he could think to say, stroking your hair all the while. After he checked on both the ship and the kid, he made the two of you a cup of tea which you drank sitting back to back. Now he's giving you a massage to soothe the muscles he's been causing you to strain for days on end, all the while recounting stories from his younger days. He told you several days ago that the past has been on his mind, specifically the time he spent learning the Way of the Mandalore from his mentor as a kid. Naturally you've been encouraging him to share whatever memories he feels comfortable sharing.

The kid is awake from his nap at this point, happily hanging out with his two foster parents and his favorite feline friend while some soft music plays in the background from Din's little L0 device. It's instrumental, from one of the many film scores in your music library. Din seems to like those quite a bit, much to your enjoyment. Now that he has his own device it's been interesting to listen to your music from the perspective of it being Din's library as well.

It feels so incredibly good to be here in this moment. In your metal home, floating through outer space with the ones you love so dearly that it hurts sometimes.

Jupiter is chasing the new toy that you and Green Bean made for her during the stay on Tatooine. Improvised with spare junk you'd found in a pile back at Hangar 3-5, it's the equivalent to those fishing rod toys from back on Earth. A metal rod with a strong piece of thin cord attached to one end, and a frilly thing made of coiled wires and scraps of fabric on the other. You've been showing him how to tease her with it over the last few days, slowly running it along the floor to encourage her pounce. Only to quickly jerk the toy away at the last second, driving her mad for a chance to pounce again.

The kid is trying to do it the way you showed him, the movement of it awkward considering how small he is. But he's getting the hang of it, and when he successfully yanks it away at the last second the little cheer of triumph he makes causes Din to chuckle warmly at him from where he sits behind and to your side.

“Great job, kid! You really got her that time,” he says, all the while still rubbing the tender knots of your tight thighs.

You really have to hold back moans of pain when he hits sensitive areas. Even in the midst of feeling like your muscles are being split in two, though, you still manage to throw the kid a genuine smile. “Yeah, buddy! You're doing great with that thing. Just like I taught you.”

Din's hands halt their movements for longer a second, a strained little noise erupting from him. The sound of it alarms you enough to look back at him.

“Are you okay, Din?”

“Yeah, just feeling a lot,” he says, looking down at you with tight shoulders.

That odd sense that you can feel him judging himself comes back to you. It's been happening quite a bit since Tatooine. He'll say something and, depending on the context, it'll come off like he's second guessing himself. It's mildly concerning, but you trust him to come to whatever conclusions he needs to in due time. Until then, you just make sure to remind him, “I'm here for you, ner verd.”

“Likewise, cyare.”

*****

“Ah, my sweet Nevarro. So good to be back.”

Din observes you say this happily to yourself from where he's standing both beside and a little behind you. You're seated in the pilot's seat, hands confidently maneuvering the ship through the planet's atmosphere as you bring her in for a landing in the docking area outside of the city gates. Surprisingly there are a few ships, more than usual, also docked on Nevarro today, but you land far enough away from the rest to give space. You've gotten a lot better at flying the ship, just as you've gotten better at so many things in this new life you've chosen to live by his side.

“Excellent landing, love,” Din praises, watching as you power down all the flight systems correctly before standing to face him.

With a respectful bow of the head you say in Mando'a, “Vor entye, ner burc'ya. I learned from the best. Ni ganar ori'jate bajurad.”

Both impressed and endeared, Din melts a little into his words, “Mm, and don't you forget it.”

You shoot him an attractively playful look, causing Din's heart to flutter a little at the sight of it. “Gather the kid so we can go see our friends and help my grandfather,” you order, tone light.

“Yes, ma'am,” he nods dutifully. Din regards you both seriously and fondly beneath his helmet as he adds, “and might I say, your Mando'a is sounding better and better with each day that passes.”

“I feel like my accent is awful,” you respond bashfully, eyes flicking away from his unseen gaze.

Din reaches forward, a gloved hand gently caressing your cheek as he guides you to look at him again. When your big eyes meet his visor he feels the sudden urge to tell you that he loves you, and so he does. He doesn't wait for you to say it back before continuing on, “The quality of your accent makes no difference to me. I am grateful that you are trying. Speaking Mando'a is not something that I need from you, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Smiling up at him, your voice takes on a soft tone of affection. “It's nice to communicate with you in the language of your people. Plus it feels like it's our private way of communicating. I guess if we do find another Mandalorian it wouldn't be private, but you get what I mean. I've also never made myself learn another language like this. I took a few classes on other Earth dialects when I was younger but I can't really speak much of it now. Feels good to actually take this seriously.”

Din nods in understanding, “When I was first learning to speak Mando'a my accent wasn't good either. As I've told you, it is not my native tongue. But knowing Mando'a and many other dialects is essential for a Mandalorian to navigate the galaxy efficiently.”

“Once I get Mando'a down, we can see about learning others,” you say with a little chuckle. “One thing at a time, please.”

“Of course. By the way, I wanted to ask you something,” Din says with an excited tone that immediately catches your attention. Your eyes seem to light up at him.

“What's that, Chrome Dome?”

“What do you think about renting a room at the Inn again? At least for a night or two? We're running low on funds but I can see how good my credit is with Karga. Perhaps something can be worked out.”

Din adores your little squeal of delight and the brightness of your features as you leap forward to throw your arms around his waist. It knocks him backwards a step and he takes a moment to readjust before hugging you back, arms circling you as you nuzzle lovingly into his chest plate. He chuckles when you let out a long happy sounding sigh and say, “A real bed.”

*****

Upon exiting the Space RV with your cosmic companion and alien foster child in tow, you see that your first true friend in this galaxy is standing at the base of the ramp waiting to receive your party. She looks formidable as ever, arm muscles on display in the short sleeved tunic under her armor. You can't help but feel that she's put extra care into her appearance today, but you also can't put your finger on what exactly seems to be different about her to begin with.

“Hi, Cara,” you say happily, rushing forward to greet your friend with a strong hug.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets in return, embracing you fondly. Then her hands find your biceps, squeezing them with a look of approval on her features. “Whoa there, those feel like they've gotten bigger.”

Shrugging, you beam and jab a thumb in Din's direction beside you where he stands holding the kid. “Mando's training has been really paying off. I'm definitely a lot stronger than I was the last time you saw me, but still nowhere near you Ms. Bad-ass.”

Cara grins, “At this rate you'll look like me in no time.” Then she turns her attention to the Mandalorian companion you've chosen to travel the galaxy with. “Mando,” she nods and he returns it, “I am glad to see that you've kept up with her training. I take it she's improved?”

Din's voice sounds so fond as he speaks of you, causing your heart to swell for him. “You should see her in action,” he says, “Certainly an improvement from our last visit. Are you still enjoying your position as Marshal of Nevarro?”

Cara nods, but squints at Din with a tight-lipped frown. “I am, but cleaning this place up by myself is getting old. Just the other day I had to take care of some ne'er-do-wells hanging around in the caves your old Mando group lived in. Could sure use a deputy if you're looking for a long-term job around here. It's going to be awhile before seedy types take the hint that they are no longer welcome on this planet.”

“I appreciate the offer, but a job is not why we have come,” Din replies, looking at you.

You interject, “We need a favor from Greef, and we have a lot to fill you in on.”

“Then let us see if the busy High Magistrate will grant us an audience,” Cara says somewhat sarcastically, motioning for you and Din to follow.

*****

“Mando!” Greef Karga greets in that booming bass of his as your party enters his new and quite large office. You always liked the way the older man greets your cosmic companion with the same enthusiasm each time. The office is not what you were expecting and not what his office was like the last time you had been on this planet. It's an impressive room, impeccably decorated for someone of high stature to show off said stature a little. The open door to the balcony overlooking the city provides you with a glimpse of a beautiful view, and Nevarro looks so pretty to you in that short moment.

“Greef,” Din says with a respectful nod, moving to shake the man's hand. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise, my friend.” Greef turns his attention to you, smiling kindly. “And you, my dear, are lovely as ever. It seems like life with Mando and the little one here is treating you well after all?”

The kid coos up at the old man from your arms, causing you to smile down at him before sending a knowing glance Din's way. Then you turn your attention back to Karga, returning the warmth of his smile with one of your own. Taking in his appearance, you can tell that this new official position has been good for him. He seems happy, and enthusiastic as ever in his red ceremonial robes and fancy looking adornments. You may not know much about local governments in this galaxy but you understand enough to know that this outfit must come with the job. When you first landed on Nevarro and met Greef Karga, he had told you of his great plans for his beloved planet. You're happy to see that dream come to life for him. The city looked so clean and picturesque as Cara had led you to the new government building, even nicer than it had been during the festival of lights a few months back.

Bowing your head, you say, “I can't thank you enough for encouraging this arrangement, Greef. Life with my boys has indeed been treating me well, but not as well as Magistrate life seems to be treating you. Look at this office, look at that fancy uniform! Well done.”

Looking away almost bashfully, you can tell that Greef adores his new position as what is essentially the city mayor but is trying desperately to remain humble about it. “The people of Nevarro are happy, and that's all I care about. Besides, Marshal Dune gets to have all the fun cleaning this place up from miscreants who haven't gotten the memo that Nevarro is off-limits. I, on the other hand, am drowning in paperwork.”

Cara sends a pointed look Greef's way, crossing her arms over her chest with a tilt of the head. “And my job doesn't have any paperwork? There's more to it than beating up scoundrels.”

“So, what is it I can do for you?” Greef asks, laughing a little at Cara as he speaks to you and Din. “Have the two of you finally decided to settle down here? Nevarro would love to have you.”

You sit the kid down on the gray leather chair at Greef's desk, moving so that the group of adults are all facing each other. “Well we actually came here to ask you for a favor. It pertains to something dear to me.”

“Go on,” he urges you, eyebrows raising with curiosity.

And so both you and Din assist one another in the recounting of everything that lead to your return to the lava planet. You describe the resurgence of your grandfather, much to the shock of both Cara and Greef. Din describes the bounty hunters to Karga and the ex-guild member knows exactly who Din is talking about when Berav's name gets dropped. Then you ask him if there is anything that can be done to make the bounty on your grandfather go away. Greef explains that there is one person who he thinks may be able to help, someone who owes the High Magistrate a favor he has yet to cash in. Hope rises in your chest at that.

“Let me make a few calls and see what I can do,” Greef says with a reassuring hand to your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you say, giving the man a small hug.

“I can't believe your grandfather was here the whole time,” Cara marvels, head shaking.

“Neither can I,” you say with a curt laugh.

Din walks over to the kid, who has been using his ability to spin Greef's office chair for the last minute and a half straight. He stops the chair and the kid begins to wobble uneasily. “That's enough, buddy,” Din lightly commands in a parental tone. Then he turns his attention to the adults again, specifically Greef. “We wanted to stay at the inn tonight but things are getting tight without any bounties. What's my credit like around here?”

“I will arrange for the three of you to have a room, on the office of the Magistrate's tab. Stay for a few nights if it suits you to do so,” Karga offers with a nod. “But if you're in need of credits to further your journey along, Marshal Dune and I have a proposition of our own to present you with and we'd be willing to pay.”

“I'm listening,” Din says expectantly.

Cara takes a step forward, looking directly at Din. “I think that there's someone you ought to meet before we explain. We've had some very interesting visitors these last few days, visitors I think you specifically will want to speak with, Mando.”

*****

Carasynthia Dune leads the group back out to the docking bay outside of town, much to the surprise of the Mandalorian. Din's not sure what or whom to expect. Cara had acted oddly when she mentioned strangers that Din 'ought to meet', and he's felt suspicious about whatever this is since she brought it up.

Upon entering the docking bay, Din notices the other ships scattered around the Razor Crest more than he had bothered to before. Among various ships of all shapes and sizes, he notices a formidable Gauntlet starfighter in the crowd. That one catches his attention. It's not a model often seen these days, the rotating wings of it standing up like the wings of some great bird.

Of course, this is the ship that Cara happens to be leading them to. With you holding the kid as you walk beside him, he reaches out to brush your arm a little.

You look over to him with a puzzled expression, most likely surprised by his outward display of affection in such a public place. “Everything okay, Chrome Dome?”

“Thinking about sleeping in a real bed tonight,” Din confirms, smiling warmly. “Hopefully whatever this is won't take long.”

“Hopefully. As soon as my body hits that mattress I'm going to sleep for ten hours straight. At least.” You reply with a dreamy sigh, looking down to the child with a warm grin of your own. “And I know you will try to wake me up but it'll be no use. I'll just be too comfortable.”

Din laughs, “Ah, but if I tempt you with those sweet breakfast cakes from the restaurant I think you'll rise quite easily. I may even pick them up while you're sleeping just to make it that much easier.”

“I can't believe you would use my love of Nevarro pancakes against me. That's cruel, Mando. Truly cruel.” As you say this, you shove at his shoulder with your free hand before placing it to your heart, making a hurt facial expression.

Din's hearty chuckles are followed by a shake of the head as they near the ship.

“We're here,” Cara says, looking back to the two of you with a smirk.

When Din looks up and sees three Mandalorians walking towards him, his heart nearly stops beating from the shock of it. All three are in similar blue and gray colors but have armor that is unique to each wearer. Two of them appear to be female, one of which appears to be the leader.

He vaguely hears your voice somewhere to his right saying, “Cara, what is going on here?”

“Marshal Dune. High Magistrate Karga.” The apparent leader greets Din's two friends with a respectful nod. “And who do we have here?” She turns to address Din, “Greetings, brother. It is good to see beskar this far out on the rim.”

“You are truly Mandalorians?” Din asks skeptically, and the way you look at him lets him know that the surprise must be evident in his voice.

“In his defense the last couple of people we met in beskar weren't really Mandos,” you interject, looking at Din as if to say that you're trying to be helpful.

“We are as Mandalorian as they come,” the leader says, just as she proceeds to remove her helmet. The other two remove theirs as well, revealing three unique faces to him.

“You show your faces,” Din practically snarls, “you are not Mandalorian. Where did you get that armor?”

The leader, a woman with red hair pulled back in a headband, lets out a great sigh as her face drops into a frown of disappointment. With the helmet cradled under her right arm, the leader's eyes narrow at Din as she coolly states, “This armor has been in my family for three generations.”

The male of her group, a plain looking man with dark hair looks at Din with disgust as he says, “He's one of them!”

The second female of the group, a younger woman with darker skin and braided hair glares at him as she curses, “Dank farrik!”

“I am so confused,” you mutter angrily beside Din, sending sharp glares of your own back at them as you place half of yourself in front of him protectively. He does not move to stop you, feeling both surprised and moved by how fiercely you are ready to defend him. “What do you mean 'he's one of them?' Just who the hell are you?”

The redheaded woman gives you a look up and down with a raised eyebrow, saying fiercely, “I am Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. I was born on Mandalore and fought in the purge. I am the last of my line.” Bo-Katan turns her attention swiftly on Din, “You were raised by a cult of religious zealots. Your people broke away from mainstream Mandalorian society and their goal was to re-establish the ancient way.”

Din feels heat rise to his face, and angry blush finding him as his temper also rises. Mainstream Mandalorian society? Religious zealots? What lies are these strangers trying to poison him with?

“There is only one Way. The Way of the Mandalore.” Din says curtly, motioning to you that it is time to leave before spinning on his heel to walk away from the offending impostors.

Cara and Greef look at each other with worried expressions for a moment before Greef reaches out to stop Din from passing by with a hand to his right pauldron, his palm resting over the mudhorn skull. The look he fixes Din with is grave. “Mando, you stubborn bastard. Can you at least hear us out on the matter we need help with? Having all your skills combined is just the kind of manpower I need to get rid of the last Empire base here on Nevarro. I know you care about this planet just as much as I do, Mando. I want my planet to be free of old oppressors and unsavory scoundrels once and for all, dammit. Give me that and I will not only doubly ensure the safety of her grandfather but I will once again offer you permanent residency and citizenship here on Nevarro if you ever wish to stay here.”

Din takes in the seriousness of Greef Karga's expression and realizes that this must be more dire than anyone was letting on. “There's an Empire base still active here on Nevarro? How long have you known about this?”

Cara steps forward to interject, “The base seemed abandoned for a while, but lately I've been picking up on unusual activity out that way. Unusual activity for an unpopulated area with high lava tides being any activity that is,” she adds a little sarcastically.

Din turns back sharply to face the group of 'Mandalorians' again, looking at Bo-Katan as he addresses them. “And what do you get out of this? It does not seem to me that you're simply here to assist from a sense of creed.”

Bo-Katan replies in that same serious tone she'd used before. “There are two reasons that the base is precious to me. The Empire's remnants are in possession of weapons bought and sold with the plunders of Mandalore. We are on a quest across the outer rim to collect these weapons and ships to aid us in the retaking of our homeworld. I intend to unite our people again and for a new Mand'alor to take the throne.”

Din openly and loudly scoffs, shaking his head, “The planet is cursed. Everyone who goes there dies. If you were truly born there you should know that better than anyone.”

The look on Bo-Katan's face becomes icy as she replies, “I do know that better than anyone. But do not believe everything you hear. Our enemies want us separated because they know that Mandalorians are stronger together.”

“What is the second reason?” You ask from Din's side, eyeing the woman with a look Din cannot place.

Bo-Katan eyes you back and continues, “I have been hunting an Empire officer named Moff Gideon. He has something that belongs to me. I intend to kill him and take it back.”

Din feels himself turn white, gasping at the sound of the name. “Gideon is alive?! Gideon is here?!”

Bo-Katan shakes her head, “No, he is not here on Nevarro. But I believe the next clue as to his whereabouts lies within the walls of that base.”

Din feels your hand on his forearm, pulling him to reality a little bit with your voice as well. “Mando, do you think that Gideon guy knows that the kid is alive?”

“I do not know, but we need to find out.” Din says, patting the kid on the head protectively from where he is perched in your arms. “Don't worry, buddy. We're gonna protect you.”

Bo-Katan's female crew member looks at the child with a raised brow. “What would Moff Gideon want with a small child?”

Din replies cryptically and evenly, not trusting of these strangers. “He was hunting the kid last year, and that's all that matters.”

Just as Din says this, someone from town comes running towards the group across the docking bay, shouting for Marshal Dune and Magistrate Karga to come quickly.

*****

You're so taken aback by everything that just happened with Din and the other Mandos that nothing really registers for you until people are shouting and once again weapons are being drawn all around you. Looking around to finally take in your surroundings, you see that you're in front of the school you once worked at and a group of rough looking aliens seem to be causing trouble. One with a bunch of spikes all over his face and what sounds, to only you obviously, like an off-brand British accent seems to be the one causing the most trouble. The alien threatens Greef and demands to be served an alcoholic beverage, which is when Din intervenes looking sexy as ever as he takes charge of the situation. You swear that the sun is shining just on him for a second as he addresses the group of galactic troublemakers, the glint on his silver beskar both blinding and beautiful at the same time.

It's actually laughable how quickly this fight is over with Din Djarin, Cara Dune, and a group of rogue Mandalorian warriors up against a handful of dopey pirates. You stand there holding the kid in one arm and a blaster in your opposite hand, but a need to fire it never comes.

Just as it had been with Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett, Din and the Mandalorian woman Bo-Katan seem to be more civil after fighting alongside each other in battle, albeit a very small one. The other two seem to openly not care for Din, but Bo seems to mean what she says about thinking that Mandalorians are stronger together. Though she does not agree with Din's religious beliefs when it comes to wearing the helmet at one's discretion, she is not being as disrespectful about it as the other two are.

That is the most wild revelation of all. The possibility that there could be two ways of Mandalorian life and that Din was both not privy to, and doesn't believe in the one that would allow you to see his face. Nothing about this changes how you feel about him or his helmet, and you hope to convey that to him later if he needs reassurance. But the fact remains that this changes things, and you wonder how Din is feeling about this under all that beskar of his.

Right now he sits across from you at the restaurant where you've sat across from one another many times at this point. The child is in your arms, wiggling around as he waits for his food to come. Normally you'd be talking to the kid more but right now you're listening to the plan to take down this Empire base. There's a blue alien at the table whom you met once when you lived on Nevarro for that first month or so after the incident which brought you here. The only thing you know about him is that he's Karga's bookkeeper. He's at one end seat while the dude Mandalorian, Axe his name is, sits at the other. Cara sits next to you with Greef Karga on your other side. Across the table from you, Bo-Katan and her associate Koska Reeves are seated on either side of your cosmic companion.

You can't even figure out how the seating arrangements ended up this way, they just did. Suddenly everyone was just sitting. Looking at the sight before your eyes of two Mandalorian women seated to the left and right of your Mandalorian makes you feel insanely jealous for a moment. Luckily, for Din's sake, he looks so utterly miserable and you do not need to see his face to know that it's true. You know he's not enjoying a single moment of having to listen to Bo explain how she is basically royalty while Cara looks at her like a wolf with hearts for eyes from your side of the table. This entire social interaction is wildly uncomfortable and you cannot wait to get out of there.

Once the food comes, Bo-Katan is suddenly asking Din if he would like to join her crew after the siege is over, stating again that she believes Mandalorians are stronger together. She says that perhaps Children of the Watch and mainstream Mandalorians can find a way to unite for the sake of their kind's survival. You can't help but notice how when she says this, the other two in her crew seem to make small faces of disapproval.

For a second your heart skips a beat, stomach lurching a little as you consider a possibility that Din could and has every right to say yes to such a proposal. It causes that jealousy to rise in you again, fierce and electric as you stare the woman down with an intense look from across the table. The kid coos in your lap, slurping up his food, and Din looks over at the two of you.

Din looks back at Bo with a shake of the head. “I cannot join this quest to take Mandalore. I am on a quest of my own, to bring this child to the Jedi.”

“What do you know of the Jedi?” She asks, eyeing him skeptically.

“Nothing, I was hoping you might help me by creed. If there is anything you know that could assist me in locating one,” Din replies honestly.

“Live through tomorrow and I will give you what information I have,” she bargains confidently.

Sitting there stewing, you can't help but think that you don't really care for Bo-Katan and you would very much like for her to leave your Mandalorian alone.

Eventually the meal is over and the plan is set. At first light the group will gather and make quick work of taking down the base. They will retrieve the Mandalorian weaponry, then overload the lava core to melt the place down and destroy it. Din and Bo-Katan will look for any evidence as to Moff Gideon's location and whatever knowledge he may have of the kid. The kid isn't to go anywhere near the base for fear of alerting anyone as to his living status, and therefore it's decided that you will stay behind with him. This only adds to your frustration with these new Mandos being here.

As everyone leaves to go their separate ways for the night, you are not surprised to see that Bo and Cara take off to speak in private, heading in the direction of Cara's house. As much as the Mandalorian royal annoys you, you are glad to see that Cara seems to have found someone that she likes. Definitely explains her appearance today, hair and make up done up more than usual.

None of that changes the fact that Bo and Koska made you incredibly jealous this evening, and that in turn is leaving you feeling irritable with your beloved when you don't really mean to be. He's trying to make conversation with you as you head towards the inn and you know that you don't sound like yourself as you respond to him, the answers you're giving coming out curtly.

*****

Din has no idea why you’re suddenly in a horrible, snippy mood with him. It takes him aback a little, considering how loving and kind you had been with him on the ship earlier this morning or when you'd so quickly defended his honor to Bo-Katan. He’s not interested in letting this simmer for a long time, waiting patiently for you to explain yourself as he would have done several months ago. No, the level of trust and communication between you has increased so much recently that he no longer feels trepidation about approaching you.

And so he plans to do just that as soon as the room at the inn is sorted out and the three of you are safely tucked away inside. Not the same room as last time, but nearly identical in every way. The plan is to rest for the night and execute the mission the following morning at first light. It's late enough that the kid has fallen asleep in your arms, but not late enough for the two of you to go to sleep yet. He's certainly not going to feel relaxed enough to even try until whatever this is gets resolved. So, if he can at all help it, he’s not going to spend the entire evening in the comfortable hotel room he's been looking forward to all day feeling wildly on edge because of your sudden change in mood.

You're already making quick work of tucking the child in the dark orange comforter, placed in the very center to sleep between the Din and yourself just as things had been last time. He'd been so worried that the two of you were going to suffocate the tiny kid that first night, but when he'd woken in the morning the child had been sleeping safely in the adults' embrace. Din recalls how that morning had felt, waking up facing the two of you. The sunlight softly lighting your peaceful face, the child tucked under yours and Din's touching hands.

Din uses that memory to steady himself as you kiss the child's forehead and stand back up. He notices right away that you're not facing him on purpose. Coming from a place of love, he softly asks you, “Cyar’ika?”

“Yes?” You respond, tone slightly bitter. You still will not look over at him, which Din knows by now to be a sign of just how upset you really are.

“Can I ask why you seem to be angry with me all of the sudden?”

You let out a long sigh, eyes shutting tightly. “I’m not angry with you.”

“But your demeanor towards me suggests otherwise,” Din counters.

With fingertips to your temples, you begin to rub small circles into the flesh there as you finally look at Din again. He's relieved to see that your features have softened a little as you speak. “I feel insecure, which makes me angry. So I guess I’m projecting that a little bit. But you haven’t done anything wrong, darling. I'm sorry for worrying you. I feel silly for even feeling this bad in the first place.”

“Do you know when it started?” He asks.

You sigh again, “When we met two very attractive female Mandalorians today and they kicked that pirate's ass.”

Din’s taken aback by that, completely unaware that the Bo-Katan and Koska had been the cause of this. He can’t help it, a little smile creeps up his lips under the beskar and his voice takes on a joyful tone, eyebrows rising. “Cyar’ika... are you... jealous?”

Covering your face with your hands, a groan erupts from your throat. “Ugh this is so embarrassing. Yes, you got me. I am jealous. I’m never going to be as bad-ass as those women. Seeing Bo-Katan stand there and talk to you with all of her muscles and beskar was driving me fucking crazy, Din.”

“Love, I have no idea where this is coming from but please trust me when I tell you that I felt nothing when I looked at those women other than confusion and a little bit of disdain. They are not true Mandalorians to me.”

“But they are from Mandalore, Din. She's the fucking Mandalorian princess, for fucks sake!”

“So because I grew up on one of its moons and not the planet itself my claim to the creed doesn’t mean as much? And just so you are aware, her bloodline means absolutely nothing to me. It may mean something in her culture, but in my culture foundlings are our future. We do not bow to kings or queens simply based on biological lineage.” He knows he sounds defensive but he also knows he can’t help it.

You give a shake of the head, frowning. “You misunderstand me. What I’m saying is that they were raised in your culture from birth, even if they take their helmets off and you don’t consider them to be legitimately Mandalorian in the way that you are. What if there are truly two ways of Mandalorian life? Even without walking The Way like you do, they know how to do everything I’ve been trying so hard to learn like the backs of their hands. How can I compete with that?”

“When did this become a competition to win my favor?” Din asks seriously, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shrug, groaning a little with frustration. “I don’t know, I guess I’m the only one making it one.”

Din looks at you squarely in spite of the fact that you cannot see his expression. “You've already won my favor a dozen times over. Those women didn’t look twice at me, but more significantly, I did not look twice at them. I think it is clear that you and I are together, even to strangers.”

Sighing, your shoulders relax a little. But Din knows you're still on edge as you speak, “I know, I know. Like I said, I feel embarrassed for even getting this worked up. I think Bo-Katan did look twice at Cara though.”

Din nods, “I saw that. Seems like a good fit for someone like Dune.”

“Cara likes her too, I could tell,” you agree.

Din says your name, tone dropping to a patient one. “You’ve changed the subject because this makes you uncomfortable, I can see it in your face. But I do not want to end this discussion without saying this: You are more than enough for me. I don’t think I could ever look at another person the way that I look at you. Yooba solus ner cyare.”

“You better remember that when those girls are using their jetpacks and acting all cool tomorrow.” You say, an uncomfortable, forced smile trying to find its way up your lips. Din can tell you're still feeling self conscious from the way you sound.

He moves forward, reaching his gloved hand out to cup your cheek. Once again he finds himself longing for his facial expression to be seen, the shame of that notion feeling odd considering the day's events. These new Mandalorians and their blasphemous lifestyle have him vexed for more reasons than just the fact that they flaunt their faces. But even still, a very teeny tiny part of him feels envious of Bo-Katan and her crew at this moment. Din has no interest in showing his face to the general population whatsoever, but dank farrik he wishes he could show it to you and the kid at times like this.

Din steadies himself, remembering that he's been able to communicate with you so well up to this point without his face playing a role in that. He reminds himself of how easy you are to talk to as he leans in to press his helmeted forehead to yours.

“I promise you that your face is the only one I want to see when I wake in the morning, and your voice is the last thing I want to hear when I fall asleep each night,” he says earnestly. “I love you very dearly.”

A little noise escapes your throat, and the way your eyes soften tells Din everything he needs to know. You're no longer concerned with jealousy as your arms come to wrap around his neck and he feels your body melt into his. “You really know how to charm a girl, Djarin,” you say in that voice you tend to use when the two of you are feeling particularly sentimental.

“To charm implies to manipulate and deceive, so I'm not entirely sure I understand.” Din says with confusion.

Laughing a little you lift up from the Mandalorian kiss to look at him more in the visor, in the eyes. “Its just another Earth phrase. I assure you in this context it's positive and intended to be romantic. I love you too, Chrome Dome.”

“Earth must be such a strange place,” Din muses jokingly.

“Concordia must be even stranger for the likes of you to come from it,” you say this just as teasingly, poking your tongue out at him.

“Hey now,” Din pretends to warn, “remember what happened the last time you were a brat to me.”

Pressing your body even closer to his, you smirk up at him knowingly. “I hope I never forget.”

*****

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bowelfly · 1 year ago

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menaces you

#i did not forsee that my artistic output in 2023 would so rapidly and overwhelmingly devolve into dumb little mspaint style line doodles of:#A) googly-eyed bugs #and #B) redwall ass shrew and mole monks #but here we are and at least i'm drawing something #bflyart #scribbles #mole #monk #critter monks #monastic menagerie

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greyedian · 2 months ago

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I'm still chasing the high of these bg3 sketches I drew like... summer/fall last year. They're pretty much the only drawings from last year I legitimately like and had fun doing.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #shadowheart #sure let's put these in the tags why not #do i even have a tag for my art? i haven't posted art in years I don't remember ajkdngf #basically everything I draw nowadays is messy low effort stuff like this. Like... I can't post that stuff lmao #but I don't have the energy/willpower to make anything polished anymore so here we are #posting these mostly for myself bc my brain keeps thinking: 'boo you didn't draw anything last year'. But that isn't true!! Look!!#like they're nothing special but at least I drew something!#anyway I'm just rambling now. art is hard etc etc don't mind me

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icewindandboringhorror · 11 months ago

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sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

#I think maybe productivity tips help less if the reason you're unproductive is partially like.. physcial health and other extenral things #out of your control. rather than just like having trouble paying attention or spending too much time on tiktok or whatever #all the strategic to do lists in the world are not going to somehow prevent me from waking up with a debilitating migraine or whatever #or having external stressors or lacking resources and connections or other Productivity Essentials etc.#especially many tips involve stuff like 'cut off from social media' since thats the modern day time waster for so many poeple #and it's like.. lol.. i can hardly even maintain a blog even thuogh i actively WANT TO DO SO. 'shut off your smart phone!' already #done babey i fucking hate smart phones i shall never use an app unless i am forced to. 'delete tiktok' yep. already covered. tiktok and #all of those thinsg are my enemies. 'save money by cancelling some of your services' cool. already ahead of you.#who the fuck is out here paying for like 10 different subscription services. pirated videos uploaded to google drive and youtube to mp3 #my beloved. etc. etc. and so on. 'socialize less' .........LOL.. if only you knew.. mr.writer of the article. i can barely muster #talking to friends more than once a month and even less if I'm actively sick (often occurence) etc. etc. ... hewoo #I think maybe instead of generic productivity tips I need more like.. how to refocus and be productive anyway even if you have a headache #or are nauseous or etc. Not that those are always things to ignore. and of course you should let your body rest and etc. But plenty of peop #e have mild physical symptoms and just work through them. Ithink something about the way my body/mind is SOO hyper attuned to all #sensory information just makes it like... constantly 'GRR well I cant focus on WRITING right now because my lef #t ear feels weird and my socks are too itchy and my back has a strange pressure and I'm vaguely warm and my eye feels some ssort of #way it doesnt normally feel and I'm hyperaware of my breathing and also nauseous for no reason' and like half of those things I #think '''normal''' people wouldnt even notice or at least would be able to just live through. but for me it's like.. nealry impossible to i #gnore and soooo distracting always. like 'wahh.. nooo we can't draw or get anything done.. my legs feel slightly heavy or something!!'#like............. ok......... who cares. thats not even a PAIN sensation it's just something weird. but it's just like.. NO. constant #mental alerts about the 'heaviness' of your legs be upon ye. Though Imean like.. yes.. 70% of the time I am in genuine pain #or having some sort of actual ailment with trackable physical symptoms. but sometimes it's just like... we could totally be working right #now and ignoring this silly thing but my brain is fixated on it for no reason uncontrollably. etc. etc. I guess it's the same way that like #most people can go to a grocery store without the whole experience being so overwhelming and so much stuff going on at once #that they have to rest afterwards but like.. in my own HOME doing NOTHING i feel like I should be able to not get overwhelmed lol. ANYWAY #Rolling my bastard little rock up a dumbass hill and so on and so forth

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manasurge · 1 year ago

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Just the WIPs/sketches of Mourynn's Greatsword(s) progress before I start lineart and colouring. I just wanted to show how she cultivated her Greatsword from a seedling/bloom as it grew to a dagger->sword->greatsword, and then how she Reforms it with broken Caladbolg later down the line, using her parasitic vines and magic to graft them together. I figured that after doing that poll deciding which weapon she should us (which ended in a tie lmao), I thought it would work even better if it reflected her own life as she and the Scion were both grafted together as they were both broken and weak (and this is the same method she uses on her "minions"), and it's sort of bittersweet to as she loves her GS (I'll give it a name later) and seeing it get completely mangled will hurt a lot (it's her baby), and seeing as how Caladbolg was also broken, it works thematically for her to put it together (using her own unique magic). I'll probably wind up repeating what I said here in the finished drawings lsjfldk. I just wanted to provide some context. (Also for reference, this is for my Gw2 OC for non GW2 goers. I often see Gw2 stuff mislabeled as DnD when they're not specified) Also under the cut here is what her Greatsword is based on:

It's based on the Pink Quill Flower! It's funny bc it was absolutely not what I was expecting to find when I was looking for "plants/flowers shaped like blades". I mean, look at it!!!! Also I just put a compilation of my refs together into one image to make it easier for me lmao

#wipgallery #gw2 #gw2 oc #sylvari oc #also just posting this as a WiP bc I haven't posted something i a while so there we go #I just need to do her ''in the dream'' look (nakey) and her sapling look (first outfit)#then I can start drawing more lore related stuff. I just needed her early stage weapons here as well so I'm basically still doing reference #at least for a while longer since I still need a lot more (But at least it's finite)#at least after a couple more I can do actual character stuff before I go back to making more references lsjkf

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herrmit · 11 months ago

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not to start shit but. tell me you didn't understand princess jellyfish without telling me you didn't understand princess jellyfish

#idk idk something about the lines we draw to divide women being ultimately useless as they degrade both sides #something something bridging gaps between people with different interests #something something literal actual sisterhood and solidarity between women #i'm never one to defend tiktok i'm not even on there and it surprises me that princess jellyfish is being brought up #but like. what is this supposed to mean. to 'tiktokify' something #girlboss narrative what hello? what? you're throwing words at me and i don't know what they mean #but it's hilarious that this post comes off as something the sisterhood would have posted before all their character development #because this is a story about empowerment not through appearance- but that inner change is what beauty is made of #the development tsumiki and the other members of the sisterhood get is not that now they dress well #but that their often self-imposed isolation is not an antidote to os being ostracized in high school and having social anxiety #and that they've dehumanized other women in the process of defending themselves #and it's not that they have to change who they are of their interests but that they full accept themselves and can therefore #be comfort with who they are #and better navigate the world. and form friendships . and human connection and FUCK #like what are you talking about #sorry i know no one here follows me for princess jellyfish takes but that's what we're gonna get today #i think when you have a fandom / readership as small as pj (in the west at least) every bad take hits that much harder lmao #anyway. kuranosuke princess rights. we are all princesses. etc etc #princess jellyfish #kuragehime #screeds #screeds fR FR #txt #i didn't want to tag this person or show their name bc it ain't personal i just want to address takes like these .#“girl's girls are toxic” “not like other girls are toxic” what if we were all princesses idk. what if we loved each other

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hobsyllwin · 1 year ago

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how I look working really really hard on a drawing based on a piece of media no one following me is familiar with knowing when I post it it's gonna flop like nothing ever has before even though it fucks like hell

#please tell me there are people here who like wings of fire #it's not even a popular character I just wanted to draw dragon and decided I'd take the first suggestion from reddit #and I ended up with an arc 2 guy #not that I don't like him or anything but he is probably one of the least popular ones that got a pov #so basically I'm making something insaneo that will get like 10 notes and then die. ggs boys we die like men #and then after that I start work on the Hoxxesbound trailer for the coming SAHcon showcase. yippee!!

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bacchuschucklefuck · 9 months ago

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would you like to elaborate on any gender analysis or headcanons for the bad kids?

I love th way this is worded. what if I wouldn't like to where would we be

#not art #I am Not puttin u on the spot anon u probs mean well! and we all talk that way in certain directions. this is more abt me bowing out lol #like. idk dont got a lot to add here! like I believe in transfem fig and a world of beautiful genders in the future for gorgug but #ngl I am. severely limited in how I experience gender. on account of not really having one #like thinking-a-character-changing-gender-would-mean-nothing-about-them level of limited #I did that post on riz and gorgug pretty specifically from the cultural angle bc That is something I have experience with #and most of it really was just like. reading the vibes from canon details #some stuff jumps out to me pretty clearly sometimes! and thats kinda it #and like. a lot of Gender Readings will necessarily return to elaborate on the setting and how it works specifically there for me #gender is a construct means gender necessarily depends on where and when it's perceived and enforced etc #and that I'm not putting in a post lol. at the very least if I talk abt that Im doing a comic #as well it will always interact with the world around it in important ways that are so mundane and small a tumblr post would be #a subpar container for it #so I guess my answer really kinda is ''I wouldn't like to'' lmao. genuinely. black box computing #when I got something to say abt it I will! and until then I will simply chill n do other thangs #thats all thank u for ur time. I resume drawing now. sayonara

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starflungwaddledee · 1 year ago

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i need to stop drawing things that i cannot share and won't be able to post for weeks or months because they are huge spoilers... but will i??? 😭😭😭

#i am not immune to the instant validation of posting something that i think is Banger so that other folks might tell me that-#they also think it's Banger. but alas. ALAS. god.#if only my brain weren't so stuck in the Spoiler Dense Rut right now. well at least i know it'll be good once we get there #there are things i SHOULD draw that i CAN post that people have ASKED FOR #but instead i'm just out here like ___ _____ ___ ___ ________ _____ uselessly

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scuddle-bubble101 · 6 months ago

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Puuuuud!!! I missed you guys

(Sorry I haven’t interacted much ^_^;)

Oh hey Lumina-BHRYBGRHVRUVNRUVNRHJNVIJRNHBGHFHVGNFV

#serif talks #we missed you toos! (mostly me)#been mostly just taking it easy if I am honest #its been a tough recovery road but were making headway on it.#the feeling to not be able to feel like you can do something that you have ALWAYS done for the near part of most of your life?#It was jarring- nearly brought me down to my knees #I love what I do- It is the very passion that has got me through so much pain. but for a few good weeks- I didn't want to draw #I had no energy for it- I would think constantly and just- the drive wasn't there #the love of it wasn't there #started to spiral into hating my art-style again- but I'm kind a back?? for the most part #I may still not post much- Haven't been completely ready to #but I'm here if you'll have us :]#sorry this got long- Hope your week was at least better than mine!!

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demaparbat-hp · 4 months ago

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Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

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elliewithcellie · 7 months ago

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Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader

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yuukirita · 5 months ago

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Here we have the BOARD ALLMIGHTY! Which regroups all of the delicious AUs you may encounter on this blog C:

Some of them have fics in the works by me. Some don't. The ones above do. Those bellow don't

Some of these aren't original- none of them are actually. But at least you have a guide to look to when I post something and you wonder 'what is this about?'

It's mostly cute stuff- and kind of headcanons. Theres a few people that have started their own versions of these AUs inspired by my art/headcanons... And that kind of things is encouraged! Create away! (just pin me if it is inspired by me- I wanna see all of it)

There are other variations of Bee you might see on this blog- But they aren't really AUs- at least not like the ones on this post. It could be art for a fic i'm writing or fanart of someone Else's AU like the examples bellow.

Fic art for "A Bee See Dee" and "A Bee's Last Sound" on AO3

Bee's design varies according to the story he's in- If it's not from an au then it'll be in the tags! I try to tag the fic name if I want to draw a lot of art for it.

Oh and- example of art from someone else's Au. The Bodyguard!B-127 Au from @whalemleck that I LOVE. (someday I'll write something with it...)

Of course I don't draw JUST B-127. You'll find a lot more other Cybertronians here. And my art style changes depending on the days... But I hope this post will Help some of you keep up with the AUs :D I'll update this post when needed.

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iniquitousyearning · 5 months ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 18th. mattheo — hate fucking / enemies.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: “at least her favourite form of foreplay isn’t an argument…” “or being a bitch her kink..”

warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon(meh), ex bf/gf trope, toxic behaviour, mutual manipulation, these two are chaotic as fuck, mentions of blood, gagging, degradation, rough sex PIV, hate fucking, spitting, spanking, uhhh i think that covers it. this one is a ride. can you tell this is my fav trope?

"I'm so fucking sick of you.”

"Get well soon, princess."

"Get fucked, Riddle."

Three sentences, three venomous insults that cut the room in half—heavy enough in their intensity to make you want to tear through dungeon walls, splintering stone and mortar with bare hands if it means sparing yourself another second in this blasted room, with him.

Detention at midnight—on a Friday, no fucking less—is unheard of. But leave it to your dickhead ex to make the impossible a reality. His fault, of course. Like always.

Snape had turned a blind eye for months. It was only a matter of time before something had to give. An hour unsupervised was as good as you'll get.

Sulking defeat, you sink back in your chair, rough wood digging into your spine as you eye Mattheo with a glare that could rival a bullet. He looks like hell, and it's infuriating how even in that state he manages to look so nonchalant, so maddeningly unbothered—like even exhaustion makes a home on him and he's comfortable with it. Bags under his eyes, scar cutting across the bridge of his nose, those dark curls falling messily over his forehead, white dress shirt wrinkled and open at the collar.

You roll your eyes, a gesture that feels like your only act of rebellion left.

And he notices. Of course he does.

"You haven't changed a bit," he spits, and you know it's an insult. You scowl as he swipes the blood off his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. "Always a bitch to me over something."

Bitch. The name strikes you, but you won't let him see it, won't let him know that it lands. You've bled too many times at his feet for him to draw blood again tonight.

"Am I not allowed to be pissed off that you dragged us into detention? We should be at the party, Mattheo. We should be anywhere but here." You hear the frustration rising in your voice, like it's boiling up from somewhere deep, somewhere you can't quite reach. It's hard not to let it slip, especially when he looks at you like that. "This is so fucking typical of you. You mess up, and somehow I'm the one who pays for it."

For a moment, there's silence, and it almost feels like a victory until you realize he's only biding his time, waiting to strike back.

"You really want to get back there? To that party?" He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You long for the chair to break from under him. "After what your new man was caught doing with Lovegood?"

You snort before you can stop yourself, the sound slipping out like a reflex. You hadn't expected that. And quite frankly, it's amusing—no, downright hilarious—that he's clearly been keeping tabs on you and "new man", and now here he is, trying to play it off like he doesn't care. Like it's nothing.

"I'll spare you the insults this once," you mutter, fingers loosening the tie around your neck with a tug. "Because, clearly, you're ignorant to the truth, even if you think you know every goddamn thing." You pause, ripping out your earrings. "He's not my man, so I don't give a shit what he does with who. He ended it last week. Good fuck, sure—but other than that..."

You trail off, making a mocking noise with your lips, a derisive puff of air, as if you could blow away the memory of him as easily as dust off an old book. A Ravenclaw. Brilliant in all the wrong ways—sharp mind, yes, but utterly thrill-less, like he saw you as just another page to flip through, a textbook he was annotating.

It is what it is.

A moment passes and then Mattheo grins—slow at first, but spreading across his face like fire, destructive in its consummation. It unsettles you. He looks more intrigued than he's been in months.

"A good fuck, huh?"

"That's what I said," you reply, clipped, your tone offering no room for him to crawl inside.

"And why didn't it work out? Too good for you?" He says, twisting the knife just because he can. "Too clean, maybe?"

Your eyes scan the room, searching for something within reach to throw at him, anything to break this unbearable tension. Insufferable. Every inch of him, insufferable.

You find nothing, so you throw words instead. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

He nods, as if that's the truest thing either of you have said all night. Of course he knows.

You barely suppress a dry laugh at his idiocy. "Like I told you—he ended it. If you're so fucking interested in why it didn't work out, then why don't you go ask him?"

There's a pause—he's chewing the inside of his cheek as he stares at you. You imagine chewing his head off as you stare at him.

"I'm sure you gave that bookworm the ride of his life," he says, voice half-dry, half-sarcastic, as if he's already bored of the conversation. As if he knew all of this information already. "Everyone knew that was temporary. Your first rebound, congrats."

And just like that, your blood is boiling. He knows how to needle you, how to get under your skin with the slightest flick of his stupid fucking tongue. Your eyes trace the cold stone of the dungeon walls, desperately trying to find something—anything—to distract yourself.

But it's no use. Mattheo's an asshole. He's always been an asshole. That's why you left. All the two of you did was fight and fuck, a chaotic spiral that was as thrilling as it was destructive. Now, he's easily your enemy—dragging you into his messes, never letting you get too far without ruining your life somehow.

And yet—

If you said you didn't miss the sex sometimes, that'd be a lie. Or at least a half-truth. The kind that slips out when you've had one too many glasses of firewhiskey, the kind you'd regret in the morning.

"What about you, dickhead?" You cut through the silence, ignoring his obvious attempt to rile you up. "That Hufflepuff you were seeing—why'd I see her all over Theo tonight?"

He answers far too fast. "They're friends."

You snort, disbelieving. "Right."

You rise to your feet, crossing the room to the bookcase as if it's the most natural thing in the world. The books feel safer somehow, less volatile.

"You're bored of her, aren't you?" You don't care to look at him. You can imagine the way his jaw tenses at the question.

The silence is telling. He doesn't answer right away. You know him well enough to understand what that means. Then, finally, he speaks, a half-answer that doesn't really answer the fucking question at all.

"At least her favourite form of foreplay isn't a fucking argument." He stands, slow, pushing his hair back from his forehead with one battered hand. You glance at him, pulse quickening. "Or being a bitch her kink."

"Does she even have kinks?" It slips out, a knife thrown without aiming. "Sounds like you're bored, Matty."

You watch as he blinks, his eyes darken. That nickname—you know you don't have the right to say it anymore, and that's exactly why you do. It's an insult wrapped in familiarity, and it hits its mark by the way his shoulders tense, jaw tight.

He steps toward you, one calculated step, and you feel it—that chaotic pull, the gravity that's always drawn you both in, no matter how far you try to stay away. A smile pulls at your lips, a cruel thing.

"How cute." He tilts his head just enough to inspect you, eyes dragging over you like he's searching for something to confirm what he already suspects. "Looks like you're jealous."

Your hand grips the bookshelf, eyes locked on him over your shoulder. Jealous? There's not a soul on this planet who could make you jealous. She may be the hero of this story, the girl that gets the guy, might even be everything you're not—

"Looks like you're learning the hard way," you're inspecting him now, too. Every piece of him you once touched. "When it comes too easy it's never gonna' hit as hard, babe."

Another pause from him—something dancing in his eyes. Anger? Maybe. Or something more, something twisted that you don't care to name. You've already lit the match, and now you're just watching him burn.

"You're so clever, huh? So full of advice," he sneers, ripping off his tie and chucking it on a desk. "Go on then, tell me more about how I feel, professor. Since you know everything about me."

You can't help the smirk that curls on your lips. Oh, he's pissed. And that means you're winning.

"What? You don't like hearing the truth? Too much for your delicate ego?" You take a step toward him, savouring every second of this. He hurt you, over and over, the scars from those days still fresh, still bleeding beneath your skin. This has been a long time coming. "You think I care about your new girl, Matty? The one you let your boys fawn over in the common room?...she kissed Theo tonight." You pause, letting that linger. "You think you're doing something, but I see right through you. You don't give a fuck about her. If you did, no one would dare touch her like that. So don't sit here, accusing me of jealousy, like I'm the one hung up on you. You're projecting. And it's pathetic."

He doesn't waste a goddamn beat—his laugh is bitter, sickeningly so—and he advances again, his shadow moving behind him, the space between you now barely there.

"That's amazing, truly. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a goddamn oracle. All-knowing, all-seeing." His voice is infuriating. The look on his face more-so. "What's your verdict then, my lord? You think this is all an act? That everything I'm doing is just to spite you?"

Your heart races, breath catching in your throat as he steps closer. This is a dance you both know too well, the kind where neither of you win.

"I know how you operate." Your chest heaves, anger rising with every breath. "It's all a game to you, Matt. A sick, twisted game to keep yourself entertained."

"That's rich, coming from someone who played it just as well." He takes another step forward. You could reach out and touch him now he's that close. His grin grows. "Too bad your Ravenclaw figured it out before you could sink your teeth in too deep. Next time you see him, make sure to tell him I said you're welcome."

Your brows pinch—the blood in your veins screeching to a halt, backing up like New York traffic at a standstill. You feel it, hot and furious, rushing toward a place it can't go, clogged behind the wall of rage building up inside you—

"You're welcome?" You spit, a sharp snarl caught between clenched teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He's watching you, his eyes darting over your shoulder, fingers brushing over his lips like he's trying to dull that familiar smirk, that cruel little game he's always played.

Your stomach sinks, drops to your feet.

"Mattheo—" you snap, cutting him off just as he opens his mouth, before he can throw another snide word. "Spare me the cryptic bullshit for once in your life—“

His eyebrows lift at that, but there's a nod, a hint of something deeper in it. You taste the smugness in the air between you, can almost feel it slithering through his silence.

"Looks like you don't know everything after all. Isn't that ironic?" He straightens up, letting the moment breathe before his face hardens into something almost serious. "Your rebound came to me in the courtyard about two weeks ago. Had some questions about you."

"What?" Your nerves are vibrating, every cell in your body on edge. Your blood is so clogged, you swear you're seeing red. "What questions?"

"The usual sort of normal stuff. Your birthday. Your favorite colour. Childhood traumas. Our downfall. You know."

The casualty in the way he says it makes you sick, bile rising in your throat, a bitter burn at the back of your mouth. It's all starting to come together now. This stupid motherfucker—

"You're lying." The words feel weak, frail. He wouldn't—no, he couldn't. "You're fucking lying."

"Am I?" His fingers brush your cheek, but your skin's gone numb, your blood too frozen to feel anything but the cold burn of your fury. "Or, is the truth just…too much for your delicate ego to handle?"

Oh, fuck off—

Your wand is in your hand before you even realize you've grabbed it, instinct, pure reflex. There's barely a second of rational thought before you're casting, the spell hitting him square in the chest, sending him flying back into the chair he once sat in. His eyes flash, anger igniting there, and he scrambles for his wand—but you're faster.

"Expelliarmus."

One word and you're across the room before you even know you've moved, chest tight as you slam the tip of your wand against his throat. There's a cut on his lip, blood trickling down his chin for a second time tonight, but that stupid fucking smirk is still there, showcasing rubies for teeth and carved into his face like it belongs.

"Tell me what you did." Your voice cracks, but not from fear—it's fury, burgling through you, burning hot enough to make your whole body shake. You half want to cut him open just to bury your rage inside him, let him feel it. "If what you're saying is true, he ended things just days later. Tell me what the fuck you said to him."

Mattheo’s leaning back, hands raised in mock surrender, eyes glinting with the same smug amusement that's always haunted him. He's daring you, taunting you. He knows you never cared about that guy, not really.

You both know it. He was boring, easy.

This—this is something else.

His tongue swipes at the blood on his lip. "He didn't tell you—"

"Don't." Your wand digs deeper into his skin, cutting off whatever he was about to say. The pressure makes his breath hitch, but not enough. Not nearly enough. "I said tell me."

"Merlin—okay—I told him nothing, nothing really," his voice makes your grip tighten on your wand. He stares at you for a long, hard minute before he adds; "except that he should show me some fucking gratitude."

Your jaw slips, confusion rushing in like a flood. But before you can even question him—

"I told him he should be thanking me." Another pause. "When he's fucking you."

He laps at the blood seeping from the cut on his lip for the second time in only a minute and you barely notice the movement—the words hit you like a brick, but it's deeper than that, something visceral that crawls under your skin and settles in your bones. It's sharp, raw, cutting through the wall of rage so fast it leaves you breathless. You don't know how to explain it, this feeling that twists through you, something far too complicated to be named.

And then, you become aware of everything at once.

His legs, spread wide on either side of yours, the space between you so small, your chest just close enough to his face that his breath feels like it's fogging your skin. You're towering over him, wand pressed hard into his throat, your heart hammering in your chest like you're ready to ruin him—but his eyes, the way he looks up at you, says he'd let you.

"I may have even added that although you're with him, you'll always think of me. Both you and him know it’s true.“ That stupid smirk is gone, replaced with something you've never quite seen before. He pauses, before he continues. "You miss it. Us." Another pause. There’s something victorious in his tone, something that's almost breaking you. "And no matter how many times you try to forget, you never do, do you?"

Salazar save you—you should hex him. You should fucking hex him. Every nerve in your body is screaming for it, begging for it, but you can't. You can't fucking move. Your wand is still pressed to his skin, but it feels like you're the one pinned down.

"Shut up," you finally manage, but your voice is meek, thin, nothing like the fury you want to feel. "You...you're being—"

"I'll shut up," his hand finds your wrist, pressing your wand tip against his neck with more force—enough to make himself wince. "If you make me."

You blink, stunned, and you can feel your anger slipping, slipping faster than you can catch it. You don't know what's happening to you—it’s just him—his sick twisted insanity that disarms you. Time and time again. An endless fucking cycle.

"I could ruin you," you whisper, but it sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself than him. You press the wand deeper, just enough to draw a grunt from him, but the look on his face—he's not afraid. No, he's enjoying it. "I have more reasons than most to leave you here bloodied for Snape to find in the morning."

You say the words but the conviction is gone, swept away in the flood of heat between you—the dizzying proximity, the way his lips curl, almost smiling but not quite—

"What are you so afraid of?" He whispers, and there's something fragile in his voice now. "That you might actually want this?"

"I don't want this." You force the words out immediately, hoping they will make it real. Hoping they'll stop this spiral. "I regret ever wanting this."

He’s silent for a moment as he lowers his hands, dark eyes falling to trace your lips—

"I know you hate me, the feelings mutual...but I know. I know I'll always be your favourite regret," those chocolate curls shift, his head tilts closer, too close. Not close enough. "You're still my weapon of choosing."

Merlin. Merlin bloody forgive you—

"…to hurt yourself with?” It's half a question, but you already know the answer.

He nods, and that does it.

Your lips are on his, fast and hard and bruising—and the reaction is immediate, visceral. All that backed-up blood—all that rage frozen in your veins rushes forward in a single, scorching wave. It crashes low, between your thighs, a heat so sharp it aches. The shame comes with it. So does the disgust. A sick knot of self-hatred pulsing through you as you taste his blood on your tongue while his hands are under your skirt, grabbing you like he owns you, pulling you into him. It's only a moment before your wand clatters to the ground, and your hands are tangled in his hair, yanking hard, hard enough to hurt.

You want it to hurt. God, you want it to hurt.

He growls at the sting on his scalp—and then, everything flips.

His fingers tug at something, and you realize it's his own wand, the one you tucked into the back of your skirt—and before you can even think, he's got it, casting a spell that sends you flying back onto the desk behind you. You groan—the world spins, but you don't even have a second to gather yourself before he's advancing toward you, casting another spell on his tie.

Within seconds it's slithering across your lips and tying itself around your head, gagging you.

He steps between your legs, parts them with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times before—rough hands gliding up your thighs, eyes wild. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, through your slit, and you try to hold on to any shred of control, but it's gone. You can feel it. The way you forget everything except the way he leans down, breath hot in your ear.

"Look how fucking wet you are," he spits through a sneering grin. "You're goddamn shameless, aren't you?"

You roll your eyes, but your thoughts scatter the moment his fingers shove inside you, curling hard—so hard you gasp into the tie, your back arching violently off the desk.

"He ever get you this wet?" His voice is like gravel, each word grinding into your bones. "Nod your head if he did."

Your body reacts before your mind does, arching against him, but you don't move your head. As much as it hurts your pride to give him that win. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull—hard enough to make him grunt, hard enough to hurt.

His hand comes down hard on your thigh in response, a sharp smack that stings, a warning. You squeal, and his fingers start pumping faster, deeper.

He huffs. "That's what I thought."

His fingers make quick work of you, relentless, and his thumb presses to your clit, rolling circles in a rhythm that has your blood on fire, shame licking at the edges of your vision, but it only makes you burn hotter. This is all wrong. Everything about this is wrong, something you'll regret with every fiber of your being tomorrow, but right now, it's an ache you need.

It's the wound you keep reopening, the pain you crave because it's the only thing that ever feels real.

"Fuck, you're close, aren't you?" He sounds almost shocked, like he can't believe how easily your body betrays you, but you feel it too, the disbelief crashing through you as fast as the pleasure does. Too fast. Far too fast. "Did he ever make you cum? Huh? When's the last time you fucking came?"

You can't answer, just groan, yanking at his hair again. His response is immediate, another stinging slap to your inner thigh, sharp enough to make fluid prick your eyes. Your orgasm is right there, teetering on the edge, ready to tip over—but then he slows his pace, dragging it out, torturing you.

You whine. A pitiful, desperate sound you hate yourself for.

"Look at me." His voice cuts through the haze, and begrudgingly, you do. "He didn't make you cum, did he?"

Your face burns, not from his breath or his fingers or even the astronomical amount of shame you feel—but from the truth of it. You shake your head.

"How long?" His voice shatters the air between you. "A week?"

You shake your head again, biting into the fabric of his tie as his fingers curl deeper inside you.

"Two weeks?"

Another shake. He curses under his breath.

"You poor little thing." His words are venom, but the second they spill from his lips, he pumps his fingers into you again, massaging at your walls, and your vision goes white. "Can't even cum without me."

You would've slapped him if you could, would've torn him apart, but the orgasm hits you like a freight train, ripping through you with violent force. You clench around his digits, thighs trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure, convulsing, moaning into the tie as he watches you like he's won.

"So fucking easy." He withdraws his fingers, and immediately, his hands go to his belt. "We'll make up for lost time."

Everything about this feels like a rerun. The same scene playing out on loop, again and again—a cycle of self-destruction you know too well, like running headfirst into a burning building, certain you can handle the smoke only to choke on it.

He's taking off his belt, ready to fuck you stupid, and by morning you'll be back to the same familiar hatred, tearing each other apart in new, inventive ways. Your hands move sluggishly to rip the tie from your mouth, but you're slow, too slow, still dizzy from the release that blindsided you, one that you haven't felt in so long—the fabric barely grazes your fingers before Mattheo catches your wrists, yanking them back, dragging you to your feet in one rough motion.

The spin disorients you—arms pinned behind your back, his cock sliding between your thighs.

"You've done enough talking today," he hisses at your ear as he drags along your slit. "You want this, don't you?"

Your mind screams for you to shake your head, to end this here and now. You know he'd stop—he's an asshole, but not that kind of an asshole. You know it. You almost do it, almost say the word that would shatter this madness. But then he drags his tip against your clit and you moan before you can stop yourself.

Your head nods with a wanton moan, and it's so full of shame your eyes sting with tears.

"Yeah, I know, baby." He's taunting you, every syllable smug, condescending. "This pussy missed me so much, huh?" His hand tightens on your wrists until your skin burns, the other hand finding its way around your thigh, pulling you closer to him. "Fuckin' lost without me. S'all it's good for, isn't it? Taking my cock."

You groan, shaking your head in defiance, but even that feels like a lie. You hate him. You want him. You hate yourself for wanting him.

"No?" His fingers inch toward your clit, ghosting over it—you squeal, hips jerking for more. "Maybe we should call this off then?"

You blink once and his fingers are gone—wrenching a whine out of you, pathetic as you push your ass back against him, shame burning through you as you shake your head. Fuck him. Curse him. But you need him inside you, need him to fill the aching void that gnaws at you.

"That's my slut," he growls, and before you can process the words, he's inside you—one long, brutal thrust that spears you open, the stretch burning deep. The sting mixes with shock of his fingers returning to your clit, rubbing circles that make your knees buckle. "You know you're the only girl I've fucked raw? This pussy will always be mine."

He's fucking insane. Completely insane. And the worst part is, you're just as insane for wanting him. For needing him. You can't fight it. You don't even want to. Not now. Not when his voice drips like poison and he's tearing you apart in the only way you understand.

"Mmmf—" you groan into the tie and he's matching you, his teeth grazing your shoulder, marking you in ways that will last for days.

"I hope it hurts," he grumbles against your skin, his breath ragged. He's lying, you can feel it in the way his fingers are moving, coaxing you to cum, even as he pretends to wish you pain. "I hope it fucking stings."

Your hands ball into fists, trapped in his grip, and you imagine clawing at his back until you draw blood, sinking your nails in until he feels every ounce of your anger.

"I want you to feel it—fuck—I want you to remember this," he pants, his voice barely more than a growl as your climax crashes toward you, unstoppable now. "Remember how weak I make you. How much of a slut you are for me."

Another harsh thrust and then, you're there—falling into the void—pleasure is so strong it bleeds out of you, forcing your cunt to clamp tight around him, legs trembling, barely able to support you through it. Mattheo’s curses slip through clenched teeth, but this only fuels him—his rhythm picks up, brutal, hips slamming against your ass with a pace that borders on unhinged.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck." The words are barely audible, grunted against the shell of your ear. You're whining, still twitching with aftershocks, but he doesn't care. His hands are on your hips now, fingers digging deep as he thrusts you forward, slamming you over the desk. The wood bites into your palms as you try to brace yourself, but his anger is palpable, drilling into you— "you wanna bitch at me now?"

The moan you release is automatic, instinctual. You can't stop it. Can't control it. His fingers curl around your throat, shifting the tie down to shove two into your mouth.

"Hhhhh—" you're trying to form words around his fingers, but it's impossible. The garbled sound is pathetic, but he knows exactly what you're trying to say.

"You hate me. I know." It’s smug, punctuated by a sharp smack to your ass, the sting of it making you yelp. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping the spit across your cheek before he grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn, to meet his eyes. "Open your mouth."

There's no time to process the demand. His eyes are molten, crazed, filled with something raw and uncontainable. His next thrust is punishing, slamming into your cervix, making you sob—your mouth parting just enough—

He leans in close, and then he spits into your mouth.

"Swallow it." His fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing the order into your bones. "Be a good girl for once."

You choke out a laugh, even as you're panting, even as he's splitting you stupid.

"Never." The word barely leaves your lips before you’re spitting back at him—your entwined saliva landing across his chin and lips.

For a second, you expect the worst—you brace yourself for the retaliation—the slap, the insult, the way he'll tighten his grip and take back control. But to your surprise, instead of anger, there's a grin—wide and feral, big and crazed enough to reach his eyes.

You smile back. His cock twitches inside you.

"Fuck me," he mutters, then crashes his mouth to yours.

You taste the salt and bitterness of mingled spit, a mess of his and yours, and it pulls a moan from somewhere deep inside you. He devours it, greedy, his hips growing erratic, sloppy as his high nears.

His hand drops to your clit, fingers pressing with a precision that obliterates every last shred of sanity—and it takes only moments before the pressure builds again, fast and furious. Your third orgasm rips you apart, your body clenching tight, muscles seizing as you're lost in it. You're not sure where you end and he begins—your breath congealing with his, your moans swallowed in the space between you.

His release follows right after, crashing over him as he buries himself deep, spilling into you with a groan that reverberates through your bones. You hate the way it feels. You hate the way he fills you. But you also can't deny the twisted satisfaction of it—the way you sought this punishment, needed it. The shame consumes you, but it's comforting in its familiarity.

He pulls out, and the silence between you is easy, broken only by your ragged breathing. The room feels impossibly small now, your body still thrumming with the aftermath, but the moment is over. You both start to move—piecing yourselves back together, pulling clothes into place, avoiding the weight of what just happened.

You don't understand how it came to this, how it always does, but you're not surprised. Not anymore.

After a long, silent moment, he looks at you. “I don’t regret what I did.”

You know he doesn’t.

“I know.”

He blinks. “I won’t apologize for it.”

You know he won’t.

“I know.”

He nods, now, a smirk on his lips as he watches you fix your skirt. You note the hair sticking to his forehead, how he’s still catching his breath even though he’s pretending he isn’t.

“You aren’t mad.” An observation.

“I’m not.” You reply. You know you should be, but the relief you felt when that Ravenclaw ended things tells you everything you need to know. “Just, never do it again.”

He nods again. “Sure.”

You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean that—but, at least now, as you glance over at him, there's a small comfort in knowing you no longer want to kill him.

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