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weirdsociology · 2 years ago

Text

Distractions (The Mandalorian, E)

Title: Distractions (6.6k)

Series: Part one of Creed, a non-linear series about Din Djarin and his favorite... distraction.

Description: An artifact from the Mandalorian's past leads to trying something new - and remembering the past.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, sex toys, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied violence, spit, a touch of size kink, light manhandling, very mild D/s in all directions because we love a switch in this house, no betas we die like men, canon what canon

Tropes: hurt/comfort, idiots with feelings, angst but it all works out in the end, the helmet stays on

Author's note: I blacked out, I don't know what happened, and frankly I'm embarrassed that the first fanfic I've written in 20 years is kind of fluffy and not significantly more insane. This little offering is canon timeline-agnostic; I just wanted to give our armored dumbass a happy ending. Please don't think this reflects my personality, I am spiritually covered in the blood of my enemies at all times. Also there is one small bit of truth from my personal life in here and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't flashbangs, it was bayonets. This one is for @tarabyte3 who got me excited about what fanfiction can do again.

***

Sometimes, it's hard to sleep in hyperspace. A ship this old doesn't have the automated circadian rhythm programs that dim the lights according to species preference, and all the daylight bulbs are second-hand, their blueness dimmed by repeated use. Darkness is in plentiful supply, but that's only half the equation of an artificial night. You do your best, careful to check the time reads on the navigational display, and adhere to a schedule as much as you can. It helps give structure to long periods of transit, and you know that ten years from now, your body and mind will thank you for being careful to guard their rest.

The Mandalorian, by contrast, doesn't have a diurnal cycle as far as you've been able to tell. His sleep patterns are pure anarchy, having nothing to do with mood or physical need. Sometimes he'll spend a week getting no more rest than a few brief, truncated minutes on the ground after trekking in harsh terrain. Sometimes you'll go looking for him after a quiet stretch in flight and he'll be in the bed he calls his rack, completely dormant for the next fourteen standard hours. You don't know how he does it. He lives like someone who fully expects to die before their body has enough years to register protest - which on the one hand makes you anxious, and on the other you find it hard to blame him for.

Still, despite all your attendance to regularity, there are nights - times - when you can't sleep. Especially when you are headed past the Outer Rim, and the length of travel means nothing to do except read and watch holovideos you've already seen and eat stale food and exercise in cramped, artificial repetition. Nothing new to look at, nothing new to do.

Which is how you end up awake at this hour, dressed in nothing but your bandeau and shorts with goosebumps pebbling your legs as you lean over one of the big crates in the cargo bay. You're digging through the thermoplastic case that holds the Mandalorian's personal possessions, looking for one of the old holonovels you're sure he has stowed, when you find it. A smooth, round black cylinder with a cap on each end. At first, you suspect it's yet another esoteric firearm - but then why isn't it in the weapons locker above?

Curious, you gingerly remove the cap from one end. Life on the ship has taught you to be cautious about any unfamiliar object. You don't know if it's normal Mandalorian living style to have to shove aside a mountain of electronic flashbangs when looking for clean blankets, but it's certainly normal for this one.

What's inside isn't like any weapon you've ever seen. The cylinder is filled with something soft and yielding, silicone or plastisilk you think, and it gives disconcertingly when you brush a thumb over it. There's a small bore in the middle about the diameter of your finger, but the polymer feels like it would stretch. It's textured near where the cap would fit, small ridges inside and a gentle flowering of protuberances around the borehole. Almost like -

You stand up, unsure whether to blush or laugh, and snap the cap back on. You've certainly found something new this time; something that might help break the monotony of space travel if you approach the topic - and Mando - correctly. If you're right there should be something else nearby, something that would make this a little more... usable.

There is. A discreet bottle, neatly wrapped in plain paper.

You take cylinder and bottle and step out in the corridor from the bay, checking the location of your fellow crew. Mando is not in his rack or the lockers, which means he's in the cockpit. The Child is in his usual nest. It's late, and the kid should be asleep for a long while yet. You jam the - the toy, you suppose - and the bottle into one hand and climb your way up the ladder, half appalled at your boldness and half delighted at the thought of making your Mandalorian squirm for once. You're secretly hoping to catch him out, tease him with the evidence of his private sexual habits, a friendly nip around the edges of his Creed.

"Look what I found," you say as you approach the pilot's chair. His head is turned away from you, bent over something in the navcomp, his long legs in front of him as stretched out as they can be in the small space. He hums an acknowledgement and takes a moment to finish entering something before he looks over his shoulder. You offer the cylinder to him flat across your palms, like a knight offering a loyal blade, which you hope is both funny and at least a little charming.

It doesn't work. He's still looking at you. You wave it in front of him instead, resisting the urge to waggle your eyebrows. The helmet drops to consider the cylinder, then you. "I'd forgotten I had that. Where did you find it?"

You stop, hands still outstretched. "Forgot-- your crate in the cargo bay, but... is this what I think it is?"

Mando can't raise his own eyebrows at you, but his chin twitches upward in the way you've learned to interpret is the same thing. "Do you think it's a cock sleeve? Because it is."

"Is that what you call it?"

"I've always been less concerned about what to call it than how to use it," he says. He's fully turned to face you now. The conversation is not going as you imagined. You flush and he gives you an appraising look, taking in your half-undressed state.

"Isn't that... Against your Creed?" How does he do this. How does he always turn the tables. How is it you're the one quailing under the calm scrutiny of his helmet. You'd meant this as a good-natured ribbing, not a come-on, but suddenly you're picturing what you were decidedly not thinking about earlier - Mando, years ago, alone in his rack or fresh from a hunt, with his beskar still on and his arming jacket rucked up, screwing the toy down onto himself with his fist. The thought makes heat pool between your legs. It also makes you a little melancholy. Suddenly you want to fuck him and hold him in equal measure.

"You weren't always here, you know," he says calmly, honest and unembarrassed as he is shockingly honest and unembarrassed about everything to do with sex. He reaches for you, captures your wrists, pulls you further into the cockpit and down into his lap. You thrill as always at his casual possessiveness, his desire to be close. At the breadth of his shoulders under your hands. "The Creed isn't against pleasure, only distraction. Sometimes it's more distracting to make your body suffer than to give it what it wants."

"Like me?" you ask. It's a joke that once would have stung, an echo of your first night together - you are nothing to me but a distraction from my work - but it's an old wound, long since rubbed over by the smooth edges of time and shared affection.

An amused huff through the modulator. "Like you," he agrees, and though the helmet dampers every inflection you now know, where once you only imagined, the statement is fond.

***

You'd been traveling together for months, a reluctant passenger paired with an unhappy custodian. It had been weeks since the first time the tension between you rose to the breaking point, pulling his hands to you like a gravity well. You were now fucking the Mandalorian regularly, enthusiastically, and, at least to you, inadequately. Regardless of how well you took him, how perfectly he fit when he slicked and stretched his way into you, your heart hammered the same rhythm: no room, no room. His attitude toward you had made that abundantly clear. There was no room for you in his life, on his ship, in his Creed. You were his... distraction. That's all.

You mostly ignored it. When you were working or hunting, you barely thought about it. You pushed the thought down and stored it away to keep from slicing yourself on its sharp edges. But there were moments when it pressed forward again, tumbling out of the drawer of your heart in disarray. The Mandalorian was behind you or over you or under you and you were crying out the name you knew him by even as your blood rushed in your ears demanding more. Not more sex, not more of the heavy punch of his hips against you or the feeling of his hands in your hair, but more of him. You wanted him. You wanted everything.

You wanted to know what it kriffing meant when he called you his distraction.

And sometimes, after you had been fucked within an inch of your life and left lying on your bunk or still pressed against the weapons locker, it hurt a breathtaking amount.

You were pretty sure the Mandalorian was not unaware of how he affected you. Beyond that first epithet which became routine, he was not intentionally cruel. Away from the heat that flared between you and his resentment at his own inability to ignore it, he was considerate and distant and respectful. Unfailingly polite. You loathed every moment of it with a growing bitterness that threatened to replace food and sleep. It reminded you of the time you'd run into a recruiter after she’d turned you down for a job. Sorry kid, you had your chance to convince me and you blew it. Except Mando, being Mando, had never given you a chance at all.

It was worse when you fucked. For weeks, you had resolved over and over to put an end to his careful handling of you. Better an angry rebuttal or cold silence than... whatever this pitiful halfway connection was. Next time he approached you with that weight in his step or crowded you into a corner, too close, you would force his hand. You knew that was the time to do it, when you had his full attention and the bargaining chip of your body. You'd seize his wandering gaze and stare into the helmet: "Why do you call me a distraction?"

You had told yourself this a dozen times. But his practiced fingers were already slipping inside you and all you could do was whine as his modulated voice, sounding not quite human, breathed a word that meant nothing to you in your ear: Mesh'la, mesh'la, mesh'la.

***

You had entreated him to show you how he used it, before you joined his crew. Before, as he drily puts it while running a gloved hand up your thigh and teasing along the waistband of your shorts, he had a far superior array of options. Now you're mostly naked in the dim light, seated between his spread legs, his helmet tipped against the headrest as he leans back. You're watching the arched column of his throat, watching his gloved fingers wrapped around the cylinder and most of all, watching his thick cock disappear into the plush expanse of the toy. He's hard but not fully erect, probably because you refused to touch him until you got to see him touch himself. Not that you needed to threaten - you both know that Din, and it's Din now, in the privacy of the cockpit with both of you partially undressed and warmth radiating from him, will deny you nothing where his body is concerned. Except, of course, his face.

His cock is stirring to full attention, and you suspect it has more to do with your rapt gaze on him than his own ministrations. It's a novelty for you to watch him for once. The way you two fuck, he normally has the better view, pulling back to see your cunt swallow his length and hear you moan in gratitude. He likes to watch you touch yourself while you're speared on him, chasing your own orgasm as you clench. He likes to see your thighs tremble when you ride him, and your face when he makes you come too much. "One more, mesh'la, one more for me, let me see you," he'll croon, as one hand worships your sore clit and the other bats away your arm as you try to bury your face in the crook of your elbow. Din likes to watch anything that shows him how good he makes you feel.

Your Mandalorian might be on to something, you decide. Watching certainly has its appeal. You can hear the soft slide of the toy, see the tension in his forearms and his stomach even through his tunic, his breath through the helmet fast but even. He looks gorgeous like this, a warrior half-undone for your enjoyment. You slide the palms of your hands up his thighs and run them lightly along the bare skin peeking through where he's partially shucked himself of armor and clothing. His breathing alters a little, hitching as your skin makes contact with his.

"How does it feel?" you ask, watching the steady rise and fall of the cylinder. You idly trace a finger up his groin and along the sensitive skin just under his sack. He hisses, and you twitch in response to the noise you know so well, your cunt giving a little spasm as if to remind you of its needs.

After a moment, Din answers your question. "Tight, but not warm. Better than nothing but... Like a ration bar when I have a meal right in front of me," he adds pointedly, and one booted foot slides between your folded knees, leather rubbing along the seam of your sex to make his point clear. "I like that you like looking at me, but we could have bought a mirror instead. I could be fucking you in front of it right now."

Your cheeks warm as you think about it: Din, arching over your back, holding your chin, making you watch your own face as he nudges the head of his cock into you. You don't know how you'd feel staring at yourself like that, but your cunt twitches again, letting you know that more important parts of you fully approve of the concept. The helmet has dropped back down. He's observing your reaction. You file the idea away for later. "I like seeing you like this, though. Did you really never use it after you met me?"

A chuckle. "Oh, I used it. Before... when you were first here. I used it so much I think I did permanent damage."

A little shiver of heat winds up from the base of your spine. This is new information. But he's not done. "Which is why I should be allowed to show you how much I appreciate you, not this plastic junk." He makes a show of slowing down, grinding up into the toy and letting out an exaggerated groan. You know he's still watching you closely, waiting for his cue.

You give him a wicked grin. "Sometimes... it's more distracting to make your body suffer than give it what it wants." Din groans for real in response, but you have other things on your mind. "Back before... when you... were you thinking of me?"

He makes an uninterpretable noise. "Oh no, mesh'la, I wasn't thinking of you. Only of your hips. And your hair. And your tits. And your ass. And your cunt, and if I could get you wet for me, and what that pretty mouth would look like around me, and how you'd sound when I put my cock down your throat."

"... Fuck," you say breathlessly. What started as a flutter has become an aching, empty pulse. "Fuck, Din," and you lean forward, bringing your face almost close enough to nuzzle where he's still sheathed in the toy, breathing in his scent. It has the unintended effect of driving the tip of his boot further into you, a solid mass pushing on the thrumming bundle of nerves between your legs.

When you first started doing this, he said very little to you. You could read nothing in his body except desire and frustration, both of which he extinguished in the furnace of your sex. Later, after Mos Eisley, when anger was no longer the single note of your shared existence, he talked to you constantly. The man of few words outside the ship became the man of many words when he was buried inside you. He told you what he was going to do to you, what he wanted to do to you, how good you felt and what you did to him. He talked like he was trying to construct a gilded cage of words you wouldn't fly away from. You had been dumbfounded by the change, shy and unsure, unable to find a way to reassure him you had already stooped to his lure. Part of you was afraid that if he knew the truth - that you'd have him any way he wanted, silent or talkative or babbling in Tuskan sign - he would stop. He hadn't, but the stream had slowed. More deliberate, less frantic. Somehow even more indecent.

He's being indecent right now, timing the strokes of the toy with his words. "I wanted you every morning and twice at night." Down. "I couldn't think - could barely shoot straight." Back up. "I wanted to bend you over the crates and fuck you until you felt the same." A slow slide back down. "Fill you up with me until you cried, until you knew you were mine, until that sweet cunt wouldn't want anyone else." Up, until just the tip of him is still out of sight. He's losing his even tone, the modulator turning gasps into static. "And then I did fuck you, and it got so much worse. You let me pull you open and put my cock in the hottest, wettest place in the galaxy and-- are you really going to come on my boot instead of letting me fuck you?"

You come to with a little start, pulled aware by the abrupt shift in subject. There's dampness under you, and you realize you've been rocking back and forth on his boot, rubbing the folds of your cunt against the worn leather, and moaning into his lap while he talks. It feels so good to be here, sitting at his feet as he strokes himself for you, hearing the jagged details of your shared past transformed by pleasure. The scruff of the boot against you, the bite of a seam into your tenderest flesh, the smell - steel and old smoke and hot sand - so uniquely Mandalorian it has you panting for him.

"Din," you breathe. "Stop -- stop. I want to feel you."

That's all it takes. The toy is gone in an instant, he's off the pilot's chair and dragging you upright and his half-bare hips are against yours, crowding you into the console. His cock is painfully hard against you, already smeared with precum and the lubricant that makes someone of his size using a toy like that even possible. You realize with dizzy delight that this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you without preamble, pushing his way in, making you feel every inch of his invasion. The pleasurable burn of your cunt adjusting to his girth will be revenge for making him use the toy - a revenge he knows you will enjoy.

More leather, this time at your mouth. The feel of his glove as he curls his fingertips under your chin. "Spit," he commands, and you do.

"Good girl. Now turn around."

***

It was after the first time he'd had you in the cockpit that you'd found the courage to ask. It had already been one of the worst days of your life, what more was there to lose? You were so numb there was no cliff you wouldn't jump off, no risk you wouldn't take. If you asked and the answer was indifference, well, it was just one more pain to add to the litany: your cracked lips, your shredded feet, your bruised ribs, your bloodied hands. And soon, maybe, your broken heart.

Mando had left, as he always did, after you were done, leaving you on the steel floor mostly naked and entirely without the desire to stand on your own. You told yourself that you would simply sleep there, if you had to, rather than getting back up on your cut soles. After all, you'd slept in worse places recently. Though you'd meant it to be fierce the thought sounded pathetic even to you.

The sound of boots climbing up the ladder interrupted your self-pity. Mando had not only come back, he had come back with a box: the medkit he kept in a crate in the cargo bay. He knelt beside you on the floor and started to lift you to him, one hand on your back and one hand under your knees. It was close and familiar in the worst possible way, like the fuck wasn't, and you made a hoarse inhuman noise and tried to kick him. You slammed a broken toe into a beskar vambrace instead and then you screamed for real.

He was patient with you and you hated it with every aftershock of white-hot rage in your body. You struggled even once he managed to get you up in his arms. After a bad moment where you thought you might actually try to bite him, he stopped attempting to haul you down the ladder and dropped both of you into the pilot's chair abruptly instead, pulling his hands away like you'd burned him. "Hey, it's me, just me, the one who's on your side," he'd said, attempting a touch of humor, and strangely it was the buzz of the modulator, so unlike the voices you'd been hearing for the past few days, that had incrementally slowed your galloping heart.

The medkit was in reach and at first he was gentle but even that was too much. You pulled away without leaving the chair, putting distance between you and that damned helmet. All you wanted was to rest, except you were afraid of what you might have time to think about if you did. There was a tense minute as he resumed his work with gauze and tape and bacta spray, but even in your exhausted state you somehow felt him make the decision to stop trying to be tender. He took your cue and bandaged you with impersonal efficiency, like you were a soldier in his regiment or a fellow Mandalorian. It made his touch tolerable, and you were so tired you almost resented him for it.

By the time he was done, you were nearly asleep. You heard the click of the medkit closing and, calmer now, a little more returned to yourself, braced for him to lift you down the ladder. But he surprised you by making no move to get up, resting his hands on his legs, around you but not on you. You could tell he was waiting for something but not what. Maybe it was something from you, but you were all out of give. It was his turn.

Another moment of silence, then momentary confusion as you both spoke at once:

"I have to tell you so--"

"Mandalorian, why are you--"

He stopped. You pressed on. "Why are you always calling me a distraction?" Your tone was flat. You sounded like you could be asking about the price of power cells.

The helmet twisted. This was clearly not the direction he expected your post-coital, post-triage conversation to take. "Because you're distracting."

You thought anger might be the only thing keeping you upright. "Not good enough. What the fuck are we even doing here? Why did you come after me? You told me we were done, that you didn't owe me anything. You could have left me there and pocketed the bounty for yourself. They would have let me go once they convinced themselves I didn't have the information.” A lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “That doesn't sound like I'm just a distraction."

"I said you're distracting, and you are. That's different." You were sure he was being pedantic but your tired brain couldn't keep up with Mando at his most evasive. "You're not just a distraction. I don't make a habit of coming back for-- distractions."

Coming back for was a polite euphemism for the amount of killing Mando had done in the past few hours. None of it mattered to you if he was doing it because of his damned Creed. Maybe none of it mattered at all. Maybe you had kept your mouth shut for nothing. Your chest hurt and you had no idea if it was because of your ribs or because of your heart. You kept going.

"It makes no difference if I'm a distracting fuck or something worth coming back for or a kriffing bantha, Mando. I'm still..." Exhaustion made you blunt. "I'm still against your Creed."

He made a noise that could have been agreement, or negation. "The Creed is not against pleasure. Or companionship. Only... distractions." He sounded like he was reading out of a textbook. You'd heard it all before. You had wrung everything out of him you could about his Creed, because you wanted to find somewhere to fit. That was all he'd ever said.

He surprised you again. "Distraction is a-- it's not easy to describe. It's not as simple as wasting time or effort. Distractions are... things that pull you from your orbit without returning value, like a comet disrupting a planet's path around a sun. Too many and you begin to drift away from the tribe, the Creed, the things that make you a Mandalorian. You lose yourself chasing what streaks past you, already gone."

That little speech was probably the most words you'd ever heard Mando say at once, and there was too much there for you to process in your wasted state. You latched on instead to the thing that seemed most personally insulting, given how you'd been spending your time the past few days. "Maker, Mando, do you think that's all I am, a comet? That you'll turn around one day and I'll be gone? Do you think I did-- what I did– what we did– for fun? Do you think that's all you are to me?"

There, you had said it. Or at least implied it. Your cortisol response gave one last death rattle and suddenly you found you could sit up a little straighter, could feel your pulse in your throat. Your feet ached.

There was a long silence.

Then the Mandalorian sighed, and in that sigh was more defeat than you'd ever heard after a hunt gone wrong. The sound seized you and squeezed your breath as it stuttered in your chest. When he spoke, it was low, tired, and edged with brutal honesty. "No mesh'la. I don't think you're a comet. Not after... today."

And that, somehow, was what did you in: his surrender. The first acknowledgement of what you had endured for him and what you'd done together and what it meant between you. You dropped your face into the filthy duraweave of Mando's shoulder, not caring if you caught the edge of beskar beside it. Something boiled up in you and you weren't sure what it was, only that you snapped your mouth closed hard over a noise like being struck and fisted your hands in his tunic. All the fear you'd put aside came slamming in, the torrential wave presaged by an empty beach. You drove yourself as close as possible to your Mandalorian and shook as though a blaster bolt had found its home in your brain after all.

When you knew where you were again, you found you had shifted - or he had shifted you. You were curled between his legs, your arms still around his neck, your face against where his cheek would be in the cruel parody of a kiss. You froze for a moment, anticipating the helmet to feel hostile against your lips, but it was only Mando, the smooth silver of him that you'd come to know and expect. With sudden resolve you drew back an inch or two, away from the spot where your mouth left a sliver of fog. Your heart beat in your ears, marching steadily onward toward its inexorable conclusion. You had always known what you needed to do for both your sakes', and now you even thought you knew the bargain that could make it bearable.

"Mando," you whispered. "If that's the way it is, I wouldn't... I would never ask you to go against your Creed. I couldn't."

The warrior under you was so still you feared he might not respond at all. Then he blew out another long breath and put his hands around your waist, impossibly solid against you. It was the second time that night he'd reached for you with gentleness and, leaning against him, you could nearly imagine what it would be like to feel safe again. It would have been so easy to sink into shared delusion. But you owed him something more.

"I couldn't," you said again. "You couldn't. We could never-- it would never be right between us. I don't want that." You were certain you were crying by then, silent tears racing down your cheeks. "But please... I'm not ready yet. I'll leave tomorrow. Please, please... just give me tonight."

The hands on your waist spasmed, gripping you so hard that for one deranged instant you thought he might throw you down on the steel and fuck you all over again. He did the opposite and hauled you painfully upright, stood you in the tight space between his knees and the console. You winced when your abused feet took your weight. His own posture and the set of his shoulders told you absolutely nothing. He was still holding you like a lifeline.

"No," he said. After everything you'd done it was absurd that one word could make you want to crumple to the floor again, but you stayed upright, nails digging into the console for support. "I won't give you just tonight. I know you. You walked into that warehouse for me. You were so afraid for me you couldn't be afraid for yourself. You bled-- you killed-- because you hoped it would buy me time. I know you. Now you're offering– this. I refuse. You're not a Mandalorian, but your courage puts ours to shame. Who would I be if I returned your loyalty so little of my own?"

"Mando, what are you saying?" You were so numb with exhaustion that you weren't sure you had it in you to hope. You tried to keep your gaze steady, but you knew your eyes were wet.

"Stay with me," he said quietly. You did crumple then, your knees turned to water, and only his grip still on you kept you standing. "Stay with me, and let me prove my honor to you."

"Yes," you breathed, and that was all he needed. He hauled you to him, pulling you down, until your chest was pressed to him as he ran his gloves frantically over your neck, your shoulder blades, your hips. You rested your forehead against his, against the blood-warm beskar, and waited. You wanted nothing more than the feeling of his hands on you but you were so tired. "Will... will the tribe understand?"

A pause. He slowed, but did not stop, tracing soothing heat across your body. The blank faceplate tipped up to gaze out at the desert night. "Some will. Some won't. It doesn't matter. How I feel about you can't be against the Creed any more than my helmet. You can't turn a thing against itself." His head was still turned away, looking past the canopy to the starless sky outside. "You aren't a distraction from my Creed, mesh'la, and you never have been. You're part of it. You make me a better... a better Mandalorian."

His hesitation did not go unnoticed. You heard what he didn't say: a better man.

***

The problem with having sex in the cockpit is that when you want - no, need - to lay down afterward there isn't quite room for both of you between the chairs. Also, the floor is that textured, anti-slip steel they use for gantries, which pokes uncomfortably into bare flesh. You end up squashed together, half on top of your Mandalorian, letting his still partially-armored back take the worst of your combined weight as you roll on to your side and throw one leg over him, pillowing your head on his pauldron. It's not ideal, but after the three orgasms he pulled out of you with as much dedication as he'd ever chased down a bounty, you don't really have a choice. Going down the ladder in your current state might actually be the thing that kills you.

Din is still breathing hard from his own climax, sought only after he'd made you so sensitive that he'd had to put a callused palm over your mouth to keep you from shrieking and waking the Child. He'd started, as you thought he would, by pulling off your flimsy shorts and shoving the thick head of his cock into you with no preparation other than telling you to bend over the console and stay quiet. You'd cooperated, knowing that the position put his mouth conveniently close to your ear, and were rewarded with that smooth modulated voice telling you he was going to make sure you never made him use a toy again, never want his cock in anything but you. He told you he was going fuck you so thoroughly you'd beg for him to let you come on his cock. He'd started rough, his pace matching the coarseness of his words, and you'd bitten down your whimpers at the stretch.

But Din knew you far too well to let you off so lightly. Fast had turned to slow and deep, caging your hips with one forearm while skillful fingers lightly circled your clit, never giving you quite enough pressure to get you where you ached to go. Then you had begged, and he'd almost given in: pulled out of you abruptly, replacing his cock with three fingers after ripping off his gloves. You'd come so hard Din had groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but even that wasn't what you were hoping for and he knew it. He'd coaxed you to a second orgasm by turning you around and crudely shoving his knee between your legs, making you ride the textured cuisse on his thigh. He'd insisted you work for it, rubbing yourself against him and leaving streaks of arousal on the beskar, and that was less satisfying still. Only after you'd gotten yourself off did he ask you what you wanted, and by then you were so needy, so desperately raw and sex-drunk, that all you could do was whine, "You-- please, Din-- you." The sound of his name seemed to shred whatever last bit of composure he had left, and he'd pressed into you harder than ever as your hand dropped to provide the friction you'd needed. You'd come apart with him buried deep, your cunt gripping him like a vise, and he'd followed not long after, your name on his lips as his cock twitched and softened in you.

The nice thing about steel floors, you decide, is that they're easy to clean. You can feel Din dripping out of you and you're pretty sure you're going to leave a wet spot. You’re also pretty sure that the cylinder rolled under one of the consoles and is still jammed there, but that's a problem for later. You pull yourself even closer to him, enjoying his warmth in the shared quiet, watching the strange false light of hyperspace dance outside the canopy.

You don't notice that Din’s turned his helmet to you until he speaks. “Another 26 hours and then we’re off this boat.” He sounds relaxed, pleased both with your current configuration of tangled limbs and the prospect of no longer being confined to the ship. “Felucia is a jungle world. Plenty of frogs for the womp rat to chase.”

You grin. “Or eat. How long are we staying? Are we dropping in somewhere civilized or staying off the radar? And who are we even after? You didn’t show me the puck yet.”

“Off the radar, and this one’s a solo job.” You start to protest, but he stops you. “Really. The contact says he’s holed up in a cave in the middle of nowhere. We’ll set down in the nearest open spot, then it’s half a day overland to the hideout. No point in you coming, nothing for you and the kid to do but get wet and feed the gnats.”

After space travel, a hike doesn’t sound unpleasant, but you know he’s right. There’s no reason to go to the extra trouble of packing supplies for two more when it’s a straightforward retrieval. At least you and the Child will get to explore your landing site. You can do your work outside in the open air, and if all goes well, Din will only be gone a day or two.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’ll come back, right?” It’s only half a serious question. You trust your Mandalorian. You’ve trusted his competence and drive and ability since the moment you met him, and have learned to trust that his desire to return to you is real. Still, you always ask. It’s a private ritual between you, something soft built over top of hard truths.

You think of the times he’s left you. To work a job or on a hunt or sometimes just for the cold, hard recesses of his mind where you cannot touch him. Once, although you try not to remember it, for a black and shaking depression that terrified you both. Most of all, you think of that night, on Mos Eisley. The crunch of sand under his boots as he turned away. The glimpse of beskar through the door. The feeling of his hands on your battered ribs. His voice, very tired, I don't make a habit of coming back for distractions.

"Of course I’ll come back, mesh'la." You’ll never not thrill to Din’s electronic baritone calling you beautiful. "How could I do anything else? You're part of my Creed."

***

series masterlist

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the most interesting part of mando is how his creed doesn't constrain him specifically but requires him generally #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #this ones owes a lot to a lot of other excellent writers #thank you all for sharing your talents with me #long post #pedro pascal

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

Text

Tripped and fell into VerDi brainrot and, this is the result. Had this in the drafts for awhile now and I was initially going to post another piece before it but, I want to work on posting works in chronological order from when I start them. Honestly, this might be my favourite piece that I've written so far. Enjoy the filth.

Lee Chan x Fem! Reader x Hansol Vernon Chwe, Chan and Reader are in a relationship, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Vernon watches Chan and Reader have sex, praise kink (f. and m. receiving), unprotected piv sex, spanking (f. receiving), creampie, oral sex (m. receiving), Dom! Chan, Switch! Reader, Sub(ish)! Vernon and Chan being an overall menace to both Reader and Vernon.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

When your boyfriend first suggested this, you were more than a little uncertain. Not that you had any issues with Vernon, quite the opposite actually. You two got along incredibly well, much to Chan's relief, and have become relatively good friends in your own right. However, being good friends with your boyfriend's best friend doesn't magically equate to being comfortable with involving him as a third during sex. Vernon is a good looking man, to put it simply. You weren't blind to that. It also didn't help that you found his more shy and reserved personality endearing. Sometimes wondering how he became best friends with your loud ass boyfriend. The two of them feeling like complete opposites at times. Regardless, while you were attracted to him, you did had your reservations about including him in your sex life when your boyfriend brought it up.

"I- what brought this on?" You asked Chan, completely bewildered by this suggestion to let Vernon watch the two of you. Chan's ears are a bright red as he explains what his friend confessed to him one night after one too many drinks, "He thinks you're hot. Always has. He said one night he overheard us fucking in the dance studio and, got off on hearing us. He said after that he's been curious about what watching us would be like." All of this information hits you like a truck. Learning far more about Vernon's sexual interests than you ever expected to in your lifetime. While you can see the appeal for yourself and Vernon, you do wonder what's in it for Chan. "Why do you want to do it?" You finally ask when you remember how to formulate words. Your brain still reeling from all of this. Chan just smirks before answering, "I thought you'd notice by now, I like showing off."

That's how you find yourself thighs spread wide with Chan fucking into while Vernon sits across from you two on a chair, watching. Chan's hands grip your thighs tightly to make sure they stay open. Making sure Vernon can see ever movement of his girthy cock inside of you. His chest is hot and sweaty against your back, his breaths against your shoulder and neck giving rise to goosebumps. A particularly hard thrust from him has you throwing your head back and, moaning long and loud for both men to hear. "Isn't she so pretty?" Chan asks the older man over your shoulder, moving one of his hands to toy with your hardened nipple. "Yeah, so fucking pretty," Vernon responds completely transfixed by the sight of the two of you.

Vernon is yet to do anything other than sit there and watch, in nothing but his boxers. Both men agreeing to let you take the reins in that regard. Honestly, he's just happy you both agreed to let him watch. You're quite literally making one of his wildest fantasies a reality. He wasn't going to get all greedy now. Trying his best to ignore the painful ache of his profusely leaking cock in his boxers, he struggles to choose where to focus his gaze. One part of him desperately wants to watch the way your tight pussy eagerly swallows his best friend's (kind of intimidating) cock. The other part of him wants to watch your tits jump and bounce and jiggle with each of Chan's precise thrusts. The final part of him wants to watch your beautiful face. Eyes lidded in pleasure, lips bruised and swollen from how thoroughly Chan had kissed you and, every little noise you make shooting straight to his cock. Vernon would never tell Chan this because the younger man's ego is enormous enough as it is but, he thinks he finally understands why you're so willing and eager to spread your thighs for him, any and everywhere. Chan is nothing if not thorough at making sure you're fucked out.

He settles on alternating between looking at every part of you but, he finds his eyes wondering to your pussy more than anywhere else. You may be becoming too dazed to notice but, Chan notices and he pounces.

He fucks into you particularly hard, biting back a groan at how you tighten around him and dig your nails into the skin of his arms as he holds onto you firmly. "She's so tight. I can barely move," he tells Vernon, enjoying the way his words wash over his friend. His grip on the arms of the chair he's been sitting for what feels like hours tightening slightly as he swallows thickly. "Chan," you whine out in embarrassment at his words, turning your head in an attempt to hide from Vernon's scorching gaze. Chan won't be having any of it, however. The hand that had been toying with your nipple moves to cup your jaw, turning you back to face his best friend, whispering in your ear, "There's no need to be shy, baby. Look at how hard Vernon is from watching us. From watching you."

You shyly let your eyes wander to Vernon and are immediately struck with how delectable he looks. His brown locks sticking to his sweaty forehead, face flushed an adorable shade of pink and his cock straining against his boxers with a noticeable wet spot. The sight of him causing you clench around Chan's cock and moan out far louder than you intended to. "Y-you look so pretty, Ver-Vernon," you stutter out, taking great pleasure in watching his blush darken and spread down to his neck. "She means it. I almost came from how hard she clenched around me just now," Chan adds over your shoulder, moving his hand from your jaw to your clit.

"Th-Thanks," comes Vernon's bashful response, his cock throbbing from the praise. He watches intently as Chan makes quick work of your clit, still fucking you incessantly while encouraging you to cum on his cock. Cum while Vernon watches.

"Don't you want to show Vernon how much of a good girl you are? How beautiful you look when you cum?" Chan asks loud enough for both of you to hear clear as day, his fingers and his cock not giving you much of a choice. You hold Vernon's gaze as you cum. Insides tightening around Chan like a vice while your juices gush down his cock and his balls onto your shared bed, mouth open as you cry out for both men to hear.

Vernon has never cum untouched but, he thinks he just might from watching how hard you cum. You're arching and squirming so attractively, all your sounds of pleasure making his boxers even more of a sticky mess. Chan was right, you do look beautiful when you cum. Speaking of the younger man, this is probably the first time he isn't running his mouth all night. His own moans mixing with yours from how hard you try and milk him for his cum but, he resists. He still has other ideas in mind for how he wants this evening to go. Steeling his resolve to not fill you with his cum, he does keep you steady against his chest as you ride out your climax. Slowing his thrusts down as to not completely overwhelm you and, cooing encouragements and praise at you for how well you did, how pretty you looked and how good you were for him.

"Are you okay? Do you want to take a break?" Chan asks you softly, hands now rubbing your thighs soothingly. Once you finally start to regain the ability to formulate words you respond, "No, I don't want to stop. I have an idea actually. I want you to fuck me while I suck off Vernon." It's a desire of yours that's been building as you've watched Vernon squirm in that chair while Chan makes you take him. You want to touch Vernon, to taste him. You'd even be okay with letting him fuck you too but, you know Chan probably wouldn't be comfortable with that. Atleast for now. "That's if you're both okay with that," you add hurriedly, giving both men ample opportunity to back out. They seem to have a silent conversation with one another for a moment. Communicating through eye contact and nothing else. You try not to squirm too much on Chan's lap, his cock still very much rock hard inside of you while the two of them communicate. Finally, Chan's hands gravitate to your hips and he kisses the side of your head before say, "I'm down and something tells me Vernon is too. How do you want us, baby?"

That's how you find yourself with your face in Vernon's lap while Chan gradually fucks into you from behind. His hands holding your hips while he thrusts into you slowly. Giving you time to adjust to the new angle and focus on Vernon with minimal distractions. Vernon watches you in a mixture of fascination and shyness, your face centimetres from his still covered cock. You slowly reach for his boxers, giving him the chance to stop you if he wants to. He doesn't. You watch through half-lidded eyes how his lengthy cock smacks against his stomach, smearing pre-cum on his skin. Chan's grip on your hips tightens for a moment when you clench around him at the sight of Vernon's cock, picking up the pace behind you gradually. "Is it o-okay if I touch you now?" You ask him, hand hovering just above his cock that is flushed a rather angry looking red. "Yeah," he breathes out and, it takes everything in him not to cum on the spot when you finally do touch him. Wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly to become accustomed to the weight of him.

Vernon is a little embarrassed at the noise he makes when you experimentally lick him, his taste a little salty but, otherwise not unpleasant. "You can touch me too, okay?" You tell him softly with a smile before easing your mouth onto his cock, feeling him pulse violently against your tongue for a few beats. Vernon's shaky hands find themselves in your hair, being careful not to tug too hard as you begin to well and truly suck him off. "You can be more rough. Not only can she take it, she loves it. Isn't that right, princess?" Chan asks you, giving your ass a harsh slap to prove his point. Your answering moan with a mouthful of Vernon's cock and attempts at nodding make Chan smirk before he focuses his attention back on making sure you're fucked thoroughly. Watching the way your pussy takes ever bit of his cock and your ass kisses his abs with ever thrust have him steadily heading towards his orgasm. Vernon isn't fairing much better. Even while partially distracted by Chan, you still try your utmost to make sure the older man is enjoying himself. Taking him as far as you can, swallowing around him and deliberately slowly easing off of him until his tip rests against your tongue once more. He thinks he might just lose his mind with how much of a tease you're being. "I- please" he begs hoarsely, grip tightening on your hair as you ease down onto his cock once again. At his plea, you meet his wild eyes, stilling your mouth momentarily while you stare at him with a glint of amusement. He knows what you want him to do and Vernon has never been too proud of a man to beg for what he wants. "Please. Please l-let me cum. Please," he whines, trying his best to stay still and behave for you.

Chan groans from behind you at how you clench around him at Vernon's words, fucking into your faster. His grip on your hip and ass bruising now. You wouldn't be surprised to find indents of his fingers on your skin when he was finished with you. Deciding to treat Vernon with a little kindness since he asked so nicely, you continue your ministrations on him. This time not slowing down or taking it easy on him in the slightest. Your bedroom filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, you gagging on Vernon's cock and the moans of pleasure from the two men.

To the surprise of everyone, Chan is the first to cum. You know before he informs you based on the way his cock pulses incessantly inside of you and he keeps you still against his hips that he's going to cum. His cum is warm and familiar inside of you and, the vibrations from your moans at being being filled up by your lovely boyfriend quickly send Vernon over the edge as well. You do appreciate his attempts in trying to warn you but, you were more than happy to swallow his cum. You try your best to swallow all of it but, there's just too much of it so bits of it dribble past your lips and down your chin. You lap at him softly until he moans from the oversensitivity so, eventually you stop and give him some time to catch his breath. Vernon watches you scoop up all his cum that made it past your lips with your fingers and push them into your mouth until they're licked completely clean.

God, you're so hot.

Chan gently eases out of you. Both of you shuddering at the feeling and, he takes a moment to admire the view of his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. Honestly, you don't think you've felt this full of cum and well-fucked in your life. Which is really saying something because your boyfriend is an extremely thorough man when it comes to sex. Even on the verge of blacking out, you're so glad you decided to say yes to this idea.

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catgirlforeskin · 2 years ago

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"Oh no! We have already called out every wrongdoing any trans woman on this website actually did in her entire life! What shall we do now? Quickly, manufacture some discourse about kinks that like 1/10 of people have so that we can start new crusade against degeneracy!"

I wonder what will they do once they run out of accusations this time. What reason will be the next one? Listening to violent music maybe?

(Part of my mutual circle is engaging in this so I am still not over it. And OPs are always tme people accusing specifically trans women, either by names or in a "the fact that they are trans women doesn't mean that we need to turn blind eye on their bigotry" way, because of course they equate cnc or whatever with bigotry. Also, why is incest play even on this list?)

Yeah it’s ridiculous. The funniest part is I don’t even have any kinks, I’m mostly ace (though I generally don’t use the label or talk about it)

buuuut because I’ve said “hey you shouldn’t harass strangers about their private sex lives, especially when this has a long history of being used to harass queer people, and trans women more specifically” these people go “oh clearly the only reason she’d care about this is because she’s some kind of sick pervert”

#asks

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quinloki · 2 years ago

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ABC HeadCanon - Eustass Kid

NSFW Alphabet!

18+ only

-:- Table of Consent -:-

NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

He's never been exhausted after sex. You'd probably have to use toys on him to wear him out without also wearing yourself out, but because of that he's got plenty of energy to take care of you both. He gets you and himself cleaned up, being really warm and gentle in the shower or bath. He's really easy to rile back up, and he'll only give you one chance to let him know if you're legitimately too tired – it's a surprisingly sweet mix of cocky and gentle.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Kid likes his right hand – in AUs where he has both flesh hands he'll say he likes his tongue. For you it depends on where you are in the relationship. He'll say you have a nice ass at the start, admit you've got really beautiful eyes when he's admitting that he's caught feelings for you, and after that he'll admit that it's that one space he found on accident the other night that made you make that sound, and now that's his favorite part of you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He just wants to cover you in it or fill you up with it. He swears that you sound different when you orgasm right after he fills you up, but you think he's just being a bastard about teasing you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I... cannot imagine Kid having a dirty secret he wouldn't be willing to share. Which then wouldn't make it a secret. The trick would be figuring out if everything he's admitted to is legit, or if some of it is just him being a cheeky bastard.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Kid growing up on the streets mean he's got experience. His mouth probably got him into an intimate situation more than once because he wouldn't back down. He doesn't equate sex with love, but when he loves someone he tends to let them set the pace so he doesn't run them off by coming on too hard too fast.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any way where he can see your face. Whether via mirror or whatever, just being able to watch your face as he messes you up with pleasure is a real ego boost for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's probably had a couple moments where things went goofy unintentionally, but giggles would be turned back into moans real quick.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Kid keeps himself trimmed and clean. He wants the focus to stay on yours and his pleasure, and not get derailed by errant hairs or anything else. If you like things hairier though, he'll let himself go feral. He won't shave or wax though, he doesn't like what it does to his skin.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's an action over words kind of guy, and that means he'll do a lot of little gestures and shrug them off if you point them out. Like bringing you a drink when you were just thinking you were getting kind of thirsty, or splitting his fries without you asking, or skipping a song because the last time it came on he saw you made a face.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He certainly does, but he almost never mentions it to you. He doesn't want to accidentally guilt you into sex if you aren't up for it. He's a big boy, he can take care of himself when he needs to – and if you're up for it after he's already taken care of himself? Well, there was gonna be foreplay anyway, so he'll recover.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I've said before, and I'll say again – Kid's kinks have kinks. He's got you comfortable with safe words for months before he does anything to even get you to say one of them. No matter what you ask for or want to try he's always up for doing it at least once.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He's not much of an exhibitionist – only because he doesn't want anyone else to see you looking and sounding like that – but he'll let you think he is one, if teasing you about it will turn you on more. Aside from that, he's up for any place and time, though one of his favorite places is the workshop.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He's up for a good romp without prompt 99% of the time, but when you come to him and ask for it, there's a sweet chill that runs up his spine and he's struggling to restrain himself for the first few minutes, so he doesn't accidentally hurt you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Choking – it's not that he's exactly against it, but he's worried about getting caught up in it or doing it wrong. He'll steal your breath and make you dizzy in other ways, but unless he makes a prosthetic specifically optimized for it, he'll shy away.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kid takes pride in his oral skills. You make the mistake of doubting him at one point and he goes down on you for so long you were begging him to stop. He does like receiving as well, but you get the impression he'd rather give than get – not that he'd turn it down, but he rarely prompts you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His default is fairly rough, but he has the skills to run the whole gamut. You riled him up one time for an entire day and by the time he finally snapped he was rough and unforgiving. It was still hot as hell, but he was grumbling for a couple days afterward because you were too sore and needed to heal up. He'd rather do it every day than have to hold back, so you don't push him that much too often.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Despite his personality, Kid doesn't care for quickies. He's not a fan of rush jobs in any sense of the word. The quickest he cares to go is somewhere around the 20 minute mark, and if things wrap up that fast there's going to be a round two or three afterward. (Good meals take time >.> )

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Eustass is open to a lot of things, and is certainly a "try something once more if you like it" kind of guy. The only thing he prefers to avoid is anything that you'll have to spend a day or two recovering from. Certain things can be worked around, however, and you'll get to see his softer side if you're only dealing with rope burns the next day.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Eustass is a machine. He loves machines, he builds machines, he's part machine, and even his flesh parts seem to be machine too. You aren't sure what it would take to wear him out, but after a while you're convinced the answer is a harem.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Eustass doesn't just own toys, he builds his own. He seems to make more the longer you two are together, and he's scary good at tailoring them. He does have toys for himself, but he generally uses them to calm himself down when he needs it and you're either not available or there's not enough time and he needs to focus.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eustass loves to tease. He generally uses it to rile you up and then make you a mess afterward, but he'll certainly tease you to tears with edging if you've, um, "earned" it. He'll bring toys into it, everything from feathers to a custom built sybian.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He likes to talk dirty, but aside from the commentary he doesn't make much noise. You can hear him grunt and hiss from time to time when something hits particularly well, but usually he's enjoying the sounds he's making you make, and he doesn't want to miss those.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He enjoys being pegged. He walked you through the whole process and you have to admit you were a little drunk with power making him cum that way. He fucked you for so long afterward you could barely move the next day, so it's not something you do often.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

I don't see there being much of anything going on under Kid's clothes. If it's an AU where there aren't any devil fruits, then he probably has some interesting piercings, but if he has his DF he's completely unpierced. He'd be too eternally embarrassed if he yanked a piercing outta himself because of a surge or awakening.

ETA: I have learned this is referencing one's size/shape and look – Eustass is big. Thick and definitely pushing the upper limits of "is that going to fit!?"

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's got a healthy sex drive, but once he got attached to you it's gone up. He does his best to restrain himself so you aren't put off/exhausted/bothered by it, but if you vacation with him and there's nothing solid planned, then you can expect to have rounds and rounds of sex for days straight before he's slowing down.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't fall asleep after. He's usually wide awake after you're both done, and sometimes he'll even go work in the shop for a while because he's too energized. If you're not teetering on the edges of passing out he'll bring you with him to keep you nearby, but he'll also stay in bed and snuggle you until you fall asleep before he'll go burn off his excess energy on his own.

When you wake up, here's right there by you, so you're not sure how often he goes to the workshop.

#abc head canons #one piece #Quin's Head Canons #eustass kid #eustass captain kid

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anjanahalo · 5 months ago

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As a thing to say this Pride Month, part of accepting I was aroace was asking myself if I really wanted to get some sort of romantic partner. The answer was...not really? I like my own company. I don't feel any big urge to have "One True Love" in my life. Social contact was serviced well through close friends. Sex and Romance didn't need involvement. Maybe I'll die a single spinster, but spinning yarn was an occupation that could earn a woman enough money to live on her own. Thus the equation of spinster to older single woman. She is strong, independant, anddon'tneednoman. Wanting a man is cool, but I don't even really want one of that. There are aspects of kink culture I enjoy, but I most enjoy the things that don't really involve intercourse. I also enjoy whump writing, but that's because it's another form of intimacy that doesn't deal with sex. Hell, I realized I don't like most Top 40 songs because most of them are about being in love or someone asking to get back with someone after cheating on them. The former I find boring because I can't relate (and I can listen to a song about being a tree and relate), and the latter has me hoping the singer purposefully cast themselves as the bad guy in their own song. Anyway, my big move when I embraced my sexuality is to stop looking for a romantic partner on apps. They didn't work well for me anyway. "Swipe Right if you like them!" it says. How do I know I like them? I can tell if they're conventionally attractive, sure, but a picture and a short curated bio don't tell me enough to even consider them. Deleting those apps and thinking "I don't need or want a romantic partner" made me feel free. Thank goodness my parents aren't pushing me to marry or have kids, and my brother's successfully continued the genetic family line so I don't have to. Happy Pride Month from a relaxed Asexual, a proud Aromantic, and, bonus points, and pondering egg cracking its shell.

#happy pride month #aromantic #asexual #Do I have “intimate urges”?#yeah #but why bother with a whole relationship and foreign bodily fluids and the chance of disease or pregnancy when you can care for yourself?#It's like involving an entire weird ritual to get someone to scratch an itchy arm #For Aromantic I just don't get romance. I enjoy it #but it has to be part of a larger story. Someone getting gooey over someone else #and the major obstacle is these people won't talk to each other #that's dull. Just fuckin' say something to Wilson #House!!

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wetcatspellcaster · 6 months ago

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Hi. So sorry if this is weird but.

Can I just say I’m so proud of you for going out of your comfort zone and writing an explicit sex scene?? An amazing sex scene I might add. So character driven. So packed with Meaning. So hot. It’s what they deserve. Also Rosalie’s use of a pet name did not go unnoticed and was even more touching than I thought it would be. This all feels like a part of a very satisfying resolution of all the Horrors they’ve been through.

Again so sorry if this is weird. And thank you 🖤

oh, it's not weird, anon! it feels a bit strange to receive a handshake for writing sex on the sex-writing website, when other people are doing it so much better than me, but it's not weird to send this to me... it's nice!

so, thank you! I was very nervous and sort-of out of my comfort zone lmao, but not for the reasons you think! while i definitely have Irrational Feelings about the flaws in my own writing and lack of smut being one of them, and also opinions on how my writing style doesn't really fit super well with that mode the way others' does, I mostly just felt nervous bc... it was sex, but it's not smut. I say at the beginning of the chapter, it's not smut! if it was smut, I'd have changed the rating to E! If it was smut, the orgasms would be better! I know that much, at least!!

I've answered your ask first bc you called it a sex scene, and that's exactly what it was intended as! It was a scene I decided I wanted to include lmao. I could've faded to black at any moment - in the first draft, it faded after Rosalie admitted to what she was into: it was designed to be a parallel when the Ascendent tries to cater to a praise kink in Chapter 7 and she immediately shoots it down, because she knows it's got nothing to do with making her feel good and everything to do with shaming her and putting her into a script.

but alongside writing this fic, I have had a lot of thoughts about the decision Larian made to fade to black in the Spawn!Ending and not in Ascendent. I completely get their logic, and I even like it as an artistic decision, but it does mean there's this weird equation between 'sexy -> evil', when in fact... you are allowed to desire your partner, and your vampire boyfriend. the more I thought about it, the more I realised that there is this weird dynamic in Pieces where Rosalie often represses the hell out of herself and then the plot makes that into a good decision. And basically... no. that's not right! She's incredibly lonely, and unhappy, and she's also not allowed to admit what she likes or what she wants or what she's into bc it's not a safe place in which to do that. That's all that's going on there! once the situation is right, she's allowed to want things!

So in the end I decided fade to black wasn't the right call. The things that happen in Chapter 26 all reference back to when Rosalie was consensually with the Ascendent, and anything that was non-consensual is quickly changed. Then the Second Chance got me, and it became awkward. I thought of all the ways an Ascendent smut scene would probably be incredibly fucking hot and near perfect but also feel um... not to pun... soulless, and so what ended up happening is that we got something that isn't well-choreographed and has these moments where both of them are haunted by what has come before, but it's selling point is that it feels genuine.

maybe I'll write actual smut one day, but this was honestly just a scene I felt the plot needed! and i'm really happy you enjoyed it and that it felt character driven and that you found it sexy. I found it sexy. it is what they deserve.

#asks #anons #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth #this was one of those moments where you can tell the fic is named after 'Unknown' and not 'Eat Your Young' tbh

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mrs--edge · 2 years ago

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Hi Mrs Edge,

I'm the woman who wrote you a few days ago about my husband and I and our chastity journey after he cheated (call me "Kate").

I just want to be clear (since I'm not sure I did so well the first time) that locking him wasn't done as a punishment and we did it after sorting through the cheating issue and attending couples counseling.

After all that we both felt like we were in a good place, that maybe our marriage was even stronger for the counseling. But I told him I had this lingering fear that it could happen again. Because the way it went down was sort of a spontaneous thing. That's when he brought up chastity. He said that it was something that turned him on anyway and then I wouldn't have to worry anymore. Again I thought it was weird at first but now I've come to really enjoy the lifestyle.

For me though it was important to do this as much as possible without the "kink" factor, I try to treat it as normal that he does not have access to his cock. I don't bring it up ever and I don't touch him except for cleaning,

To him maybe this IS part of the kink, I think it makes him extra crazy that his cock has become a non-factor. But also it means that during sex he is totally focused on me, because his cock is entirely out of the equation.

Wow, again! 🤣

First, thank you for clarifying. Also, I'm so happy that you and your husband are able to work through this and stay together. I honestly hope this all works out for you both.

As another woman who really is not interested in all the kinky stuff, I love how you've managed to take something weird like this and turn it into your own thing. I think I understand the appeal for you in treating his penis like it doesn't even exist, and being so casual in your turning down his requests for relief. This is one of those "be careful what you wish for" fantasies so many men in this community seem to have taken to the extreme!

My husband sometimes has similar fantasies about my being "nonchalant" or "dispassionate" or "matter of fact" about his denial. Which is a good thing because in many ways that's exactly how it is for me. His being locked is "just how things are now" and that's how I think about it. Or don't think about it. You know what I mean 😅.

For me, the real turn on is knowing that I have the power and control, and how his denial makes him focus on me and my pleasure, even when we're not in bed.

You have obviously found a way to make this work for you and I sincerely hope that you can use this to reach a place of even deeper intimacy and love with your husband. I'm sure you value your privacy but if you want to chat more about this, please feel free to DM me. ❤️ 🔐

#chastity question #foxing #locked therapy

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irkimatsu · 2 months ago

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Hi Irk!! I saw your earlier posts about feeling crummy over seeing certain hot takes in the fandom about Husk and how his relationship with sex in the series will be depicted—I hope you're doing okay now. Frankly, the idea that Husk has to abstain from sex on Angel's behalf is odd to me, especially as someone who's also dealing with sexual trauma. Survivors can reclaim their sexuality! Plus, from what we've seen from the show—Husk seems like the type of guy who would be willing to take things slow and work through unpacking heavy baggage together. And hey, if he could do that for Angel, I'd say he would extend that same love and tenderness to you! I do very much relate to feeling bonkers over my attachments with fictional characters though. I get insecure at times because I feel like I could never be Angel's type due to being multigendered and genderfluid </3

Oh and for the fic ask—I think it was the one where Husk pours whiskey on reader's breasts that I read first from you that I really liked. That one was sooo good holy fuck.

- ⭐ blue-dream-boye

Thank you so much for the message! <3 A big part of my worry is the feeling that I have no right to speak on sexual trauma at all. My history with sexual trauma, if it can even be called that, is mild - never directly victimized, just exposed to tons of shit I was way too young for, with a heaping scoop of Catholic hypocrisy on top. I'm almost positive all that shaped my sexuality into whatever the hell it is now, but whether it's trauma and whether I have any rights to speak on such things, God only knows.

(This isn't even my first fandom where I had to figure this out - last fandom I was in had a suicidal porn star character shipped with a main character. She was just a one-off, but she's immensely popular, I love her and wanted to write more about her but never felt like I could get it right... lingering anxiety from that, maybe?)

I absolutely do feel like Husk can take good care of Angel, taking things slow with sex and making sure he's comfortable. But I also don't want to strip kink from the equation, you know? I still want Angel to enjoy kink with an observant dom who listens to his signs, spoken or otherwise. I really don't like playing into "bad people have icky kinks, good people who are really in love have missionary with the lights off." But then the sex-negative bug gets in my brain and I feel like a weirdo for thinking that being able to safely communicate stuff like kinks is important. I want Husk to have kinks! I don't want his personal growth to require him to give them up! Of course he wouldn't engage in anything Angel doesn't want, but don't make the fact of Husk wanting it inherently be some sort of moral failing!

Angel's attraction... that's another thing I always tread lightly around, since I'm not at all a gay man. Still, regardless of his canon gender and sexuality, labels can always be fluid, and quite frankly I'm also of the opinion that a fan changing a character's sexuality does not take away from representation because the canon material is still right there. Making him straight for homophobic reasons would of course be nasty, but having him experiment with his attractions for the sake of shipping? Go nuts! But as someone who tries to go nuts but gets caught up in "yes, but would he really", I do get the difficulty...

Aside from all the weird anxiety nonsense, thank you so much for the comment on the fic! <3 That whiskey fic was tons of fun to write, still one of my favorites, and I'd love to write that kink again sometime! I love the idea of Husk enjoying exploring every inch of his partner with his tongue...

#irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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nakasumi-sims · 7 months ago

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✩ Can you do the Miscellaneous section from the Ultimate Relationship list for Hikaru & Toshio? Thanks 😊 (or the whole list if you want! I just didn’t want to overwhelm you)

Ah I see you've chosen the characters from my main project of the last 12 years. The original brain rot that is Shuriken Souls. In that case, imma have to go with the whole list 🤣 I would've gone in game to take a sims pic but since I wanna make them better I'm just gonna go with their actual artwork and maybe some sim pics sprinkled in.

Hikaru & Toshio

🌟 Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

Toshio

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

Hikaru

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

Toshio

Who trashes the house?

Neither of them because they're above that. Plus Hikaru owns way too many priceless artifacts and valuables that he's over protective of so...

Do either of them get physical?

Hikaru might if his demonic side comes out, but he usually has it under control unless he's plastered.

How often do they argue/disagree?

Very rarely, but when it actually happens, it can be quite big. At the start of Shuriken Souls (not the prequel/Freshman Year), they're taking a break due to a fight.

Who is the first to apologise?

Depends on what the fight was about, but neither of them are going to be first if they believe they're in the right.

🌟 Sex:

Who is on top? Who is on the bottom?

They're switches

Who has the strangest desires?

Probably Toshio because he actually likes getting whipped with Hikaru's chain whip. There's definitely a non sexual desire for punishment for loving Hikaru which is also part of it, but he'd keep that to himself.

Any kinks?

Both of them are sadistic, but as above and really just with Hikaru, Toshio can be masochistic.

Specific kinks...uhhh Hikaru likes banging in front of mirrors (if it's convenient enough) so he can show off how good he's making you feel and can get the best views of you. Just a little conceited. The only thing I can really think of for both of them is they both just love loving on each other since Hikaru is more used to occasional sex with humans he doesn't give a crap about and Toshio hasn't been with anyone since his ex wife 15 years prior.

Who’s dominant in bed?

Depends on their moods, but usually Hikaru

Is head ever in the equation?

Absolutely. They be wining, dining, 69ing

If so, who is better at performing it?

Hikaru, but that's just because he has more experience being over 2,000 yrs old

Ever had sex in public?

Sorta? Public place, but it was private due to it being after hours. Their first time was in Toshio’s classroom and they did get caught in the morning. It's known as the Lab Incident (and yes it is available to read if asked because it is nsfw, but I've been told it'sa good read)

Who moans the most?

Toshio

Who leaves the most marks?

Hikaru

Who screams the loudest?

Toshio

Who is the more experienced of the two?

Hikaru

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

Both but more 'make love'

Rough or soft?

Usually softer but they have their more wild nights

How long do they usually last?

They can go for hours

Is protection used?

Toshio insists even though Hikaru

Does it ever get boring?

Nah

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

Classroom after hours

🌟 Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children?

Toshio has a son, Michio, from a previous marriage. He's 16 yrs old. Hikaru has no kids and doesn't want any

If so, how many children do your muses want/have?

Just one (Michio) but Hikaru never plans on doing any sort of parenting with him or actually being a stepdad if they get married. Toshio is content with just one and doesn't expect or want Hikaru to do any parenting. Toshio hasn't done much parenting in awhile and finds Michio to be self sufficient. Michio and Toshio have lived separately since Michio left for a mission and didn't return for 2 years. Hikaru didn't even know about Michio until he, Kaori, and Ryo rescued Michio and Sumiko from under a giant boulder.

Who is the favorite parent?

Toshio

Who is the authoritative parent?

Toshio

Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school?

Toshio, but only for special circumstances and it wouldn't be a real day off

Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around?

Neither

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children?

Toshio used to, but either he doesn't show up now or he only shows up to judge his son's progress

Who goes to parent teacher interviews?

Toshio

Who changes the diapers?

Toshio (single dad life)

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?

Toshio

Who spends the most time with the children?

Toshio

Who packs their lunch boxes?

Toshio. Well he hasn't for a long time, but he used to

Who gives their children ‘the talk’?

Toshio

Who cleans up after the kids?

Toshio

Who worries the most?

Toshio used to worry but not anymore

Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?

Toshio

🌟 Affection:

Who likes to cuddle?

Toshio is definitely more of the cuddler. Hikaru still has some trouble getting used to it since he's not used to being intimate with someone he's in love with.

Who is the little spoon?

They take turns

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

Hikaru

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?

Toshio

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

Hikaru usually gets uncomfortable after a couple hours but he pushes through it to get more used to the feelings even though he does have the desire to hold onto Toshio. Toshio could either be cuddled by Hikaru or hold him for hours even if it gets uncomfortable

Who gives the most kisses?

Hikaru

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

Slow dancing

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?

In Hikaru's living room because the couch is really comfy and the atmosphere all over is very nice. But rarely do they get to cuddle there because of Ryo and Kaori also living there. It's just best for Toshio not to be over when Ryo is home cause they despise each other and it'll cause problems

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other?

Hikaru

How often do they get time to themselves?

Quite rarely due to Toshio being a professor with classes in multiple subjects and supervising a club and Hikaru having to deal with Ryo's shenanigans on top of attending classes at the Academy, going on missions, and having to travel for work. They usually make time when they can at night when Toshio shows up drunk or they make plans to go get drunk.

🌟 Sleeping:

Who snores?

Neither. Toshio did used to snore when he was younger, but he had to train himself to stop for reasons

If both do, who snores the loudest?

Neither

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

They share the bed when they can, but normally sleep separately since they don't live together and live in different districts within Tamashi Tera.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

They cozy up at the start, but Hikaru will separate from him after a couple hours, but then Toshio will end up migrating back to cuddle

Who talks in their sleep?

Neither

What do they wear to bed?

They both wear pajama sets though Hikaru's are a lot nicer fabrics

Are either of your muses insomniacs?

No they both sleep well. Very rarely, but Hikaru can get insomnia when his memories bother him. It's great for his job, but terrible for being able to recall everything vividly. He's gotten over most of it though

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

Nope

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

Mostly side by side unless Toshio is getting cuddly

Who wakes up with bed hair?

Toshio. Hikaru is too perfect and having silk pillowcases helps

Who wakes up first?

Toshio

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

They'd rather order in than cook, but if someone was prepping it, it would be Toshio because Hikaru is used to Ryo doing the cooking. Not that he's bad at it or anything

What is their favourite sleeping position?

Toshio likes when Hikaru lays on his chest so he can hold him close. Hikaru prefers spooning or lying on his side holding hands with a little hand caressing until he falls asleep

Who hogs the sheets?

Hikaru

Do they set an alarm each night?

Yes because Toshio has work and Hikaru has work/school

Can a television be found in their bedroom?

Hikaru has one in a separate sitting area of his room. Toshio doesn't have a tv in his room

Who has nightmares?

Hikaru

Who has ridiculous dreams?

They both do, but Hikaru's are ridiculous in the sense of wacky things that have happened in the past. Toshio’s got normally wacky dreams when he has them

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

Neither

Who makes the bed?

They both make their beds

What time is bed time?

Depends what they're doing. If it's a normal night, around 11pm-12am. If they've been out, then around 4am

Any routines/rituals before bed?

Hikaru has a shower and useless skincare routine. He doesn't need it as a demon, but he just likes it. Toshio has a drink, prays, but keeps it to himself

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

Hikaru because he has to deal with Ryo

🌟 Work:

Who is the busiest?

I would say Toshio is, but only by a slight margin. Hikaru is usually just about as busy.

Who rakes in the highest income?

Hikaru by a looooooong shot

Are any of your muses unemployed?

They're both employed

Who takes the most sick days?

Toshio just because he can actually get sick since he's human. He does have a good immune system from being a father and working at the Academy though so it is rare he uses a sick day for actually being sick. He'll usually use them for other reasons.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?

Toshio

Who sucks up to their boss?

Neither of them are suck ups per se, but they'll be manipulative in their jobs if needed to get something done. Usually Hikaru has to do it more in his line of work

What are their jobs?

Toshio is a professor at Southern Temple Academy in Tamashi Tera. He has classes in most of the sciences, maths, computer science, combat, and is the advisor of the sewing club (the club was forced on him cause no one would take it)

Hikaru is a historian and works with and as a museum curator in many museums across the world. He's also an archeologist, but the reality of that is that he's just "finding" things he's hidden around the world over his centuries of travels and digs them up/finds them again once they're of value depending on the time period. Most of the antiquities he's recovered, stay in his own private collection which he keeps in multiple floors of his building and then he loans the artifacts out. He also gives talks on them and writes history books. At the same time, he attends Southern Temple Academy as a student even though he really doesn't need to, but he does it for Kaori and it has some benefits even if it's dangerous as a demon.

Who stresses the most?

They're equally stressed and bond over how much Ryo stresses them out

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

They both love their jobs. The only thing Toshio hates about his job in recent years is dealing with Ryo because, like Hikaru, he doesn't need to be there so he puts in zero effort (except combat for fun) and is a nuisance.

Are your muses financially stable?

Yes

🌟 Home:

Who does the washing?

They both do their own washing

Who takes out the trash?

They both do their own

Who does the ironing?

They both do their own. Hikaru does typically goes for dry cleaning though for most of his clothes

Who does the cooking?

Neither

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

They're both competent enough not to burn the house down, but I'd say Hikaru just because Ryo might prank him or something

Who is messier?

Toshio, but he's barely messy

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?

Neither

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

Toshio

Who forgets to flush the toilet?

Toshio

Who is the prankster around the house?

Neither, but if Toshio is over at Hikaru's and Ryo is bothering them then he might pull a prank as revenge

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

Toshio. Neither of them actually own a car though. They both can drive, but Hikaru hasn't driven in decades and Toshio doesn't really need a car in Tamashi Tera cause it's walkable and has excellent public transportation

Who mows the lawn?

Neither of them have lawns

Who answers the telephone?

Hikaru is more likely to answer

Who does the vacuuming?

Hikaru hires a cleaning service and Toshio does his own

Who does the groceries?

They each do their own

Who takes the longest to shower?

Toshio because he's often dirtier after working on his inventions

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

Hikaru. He's gotta get his hair styled juuuust right

🌟 Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem?

For Hikaru, hell no, he's ridiculously wealthy, but unlike rich humans he uses a lot of his money for good. For Toshio, he's comfortable enough

How many cars do they own?

Do they own their home or do they rent?

Hikaru owns the building he, Ryo, and Kaori live in the East District as its only occupants while the rest of the space is for his collection. Toshio rents a condo in the Southern District closer to the Academy

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?

Sort of coast? Tamashi Tera is its own partially man made land mass (lots of lore stuff)

Do they live in the city or in the country?

City

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

They do. It's really one of the only nice places left even if there is some problems

What’s their song?

Mmm I'd probably say La Vie En Rose

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Focus on work, but they'll often text each other when it's convenient. They both know that they're busy people and mostly respect that

Where did they first meet?

At Southern Temple Academy! Here's a doodle comic of it! (Right to left)

How did they first meet?

See above

Who spends the most money when out shopping?

Hikaru

Who’s more likely to flash their assets?

Hikaru

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

Toshio just because it's nice to see that Hikaru isn't always perfect

Any mental issues?

Hikaru has a lot of unaddressed trauma from his childhood, maybe a little ptsd, but he's mostly over what happened and gets rare nightmares. Toshio....uhhhhhh idk if there's anything to truly label him with

Who’s terrified of bugs?

Neither

Who kills the spiders around the house?

Either

Their favourite place?

A little live music cafe not too far from Hikaru's place in the East District

Who pays the bills?

They each pay their own. (Ryo technically splits with Hikaru though as they are brothers)

Do they have any fears for their future?

The both have fears for the future of their relationship. Each for different reasons which are extreme spoilers

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

Hikaru

Who uses up all of the hot water?

Toshio probably on an experiment vs showering etc

Who’s the tallest?

Hikaru by an inch

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

Hikaru

Who wanders around in their underwear?

Neither, but if it's a lazy morning in a hotel room, Toshio might

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

Hikaru

What do they tease each other about?

Dealing with Ryo mostly

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

Hikaru, even though it's like boi you've 100% worn some wacky ass shit over the last couple of millennia

Do they have mutual friends?

Not really

Who crushed first?

Toshio

Any alcohol or substance related problems?

They're both alcoholics. It affects Hikaru differently with him being a demon and even more so being a sin of gluttony demon. Toshio also smokes cigarettes.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

Toshio

Who swears the most?

Probably Toshio. Hikaru does swear, but he tries not to so he comes off as more eloquent and poised

#naka answers #hikaru isuto #toshio shoma #stargazer-sims #naka's sims #long post

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