#star wars x plus size reader

[nerdieforpedro]

He told me his name

The Mandalorian/ Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: approx. 1.3k

Summary: It's not clear if you enter The Mandalorian's orbit or you enter his, but slowly the two of you are growing closer.

Warnings: vague mentions of mechanic work, HANDS (It's my thing about Din okay?!), fluff, some violence, blood, injuries and first aid

Notes: I've wanted to write another Din fic for a while and didn't have any sparks. Then I read @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin 's Din fic (Sorgan girls Are Easy) she put out yesterday which is excellent. I had my spark. ⚡️ Though the fic I wrote isn't similar to hers at all. Not even in the same category. 🤣 My fic is very moody. I might write a follow-up one shot to this.

Dividers are by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin Masterlist /Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

Lingering near your workstation had you curious, but you chalked it up to just being curious about how you worked. You’re aware that your organization, separation and tinkering can be slower than other mechanics but it also means you don’t need to double check your work as often.

The Mandalorian was intimidating and never rude or even commanding. In fact he was polite and let Peli speak to him pretty casually. You only said hello and goodbye.

That’s why it struck you with surprise when Peli asked during one evening card game with the droids if you’d consider riding with the “walking tin can” as she put it. You blinked and asked why you, shouldn’t he be asking her to come with him. She told you that she had a business to run and she’s not gallivanting around with a trigger happy bounty hunter who has to keep track of an adorable but absurdly strong baby. 

“You need some excitement anyway. You’ll just waste away here without any good memories or fun stories to tell. It will just be a life of regrets of paths not taken.”

Her words rang in your head as the small green child sat in your lap. The Mandalorian was at the controls, silently charting their course. Was this a good decision?

He allowed you to come with him when he got his tracking fobs and when he turned in his bounties. The first touch was between your shoulder blade to your back, guiding you and the child through the market back to the Razor Crest.

The second was when his gloved hands touched yours while trying to improve your aim using a blaster. His voice was more gentle than his normal flat one. Closer to what he used with Grogu but still not as much warmth. It was enough to have you believe him to be kind.

The third happened after he brought a bounty back to the ship and he saw Grogu patting your cheeks as you spoke to him. Explaining about what different bolts did, it looked like you were organizing your tools again. His gloved hand was placed on your shoulder which had you peer up at his t-visor. He gave you a nod and went to inventory his weapons. Maybe it wasn’t just kindness. Maybe he believes you to be useful, a smile creeps along your face.

Such small gestures continued until you took Grogu out for a walk. 

It was a fairly green planet and Din said it was safe, you didn’t wander far from the ship as it was still in view. The first crawling plant you saw and shot it through and through with your blaster. The second, nipped your leg but you were able to knock it off and shot it twice. On the way back to the ship you were clear, but one jumped the gangway and a tentacle sliced across your back before you were able to turn and shoot it. You limped back into the Razor Crest and were able to clean and dress your leg but not your back. Grogu wouldn’t stop screaming and you kept moving him away from you to not get blood on the poor child.

The bounty hunter saw you, quickly put his bounty on carbonate and grabbed the bacta spray. He spoke to his son and was able to calm him slightly as he ripped your shirt and bra to try and access the wound on your back but the blood and secretions in your wound from the tentacle made it increasingly difficult as you bled. 

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” He paused. The Mandalorian you know never paused, he was always measured in his speech, even with Grogu. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” You found it puzzling that he was asking permission considering it’s one of the main tenets of his religion. You didn’t care either way as long as the bleeding and pain stopped. 

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.”

You closed your eyes and heard the Mandalorian give a few curses as he removed his gloves, warm calloused fingers were dabbing your back and applying pressure. After holding it a few minutes, you felt the cool spray of the bacta and some patches being applied with more pressure. There seemed to be less pain and your back didn’t feel like a dripping pool so you counted your lucky stars and thanked the Maker that the bounty hunter had come back earlier than later. You felt something soft spread over your body and you were lifted off the floor of the ship and brought to your cot. How did he lift you so easily? Did beskar help with that? You didn’t think so, but you know next to nothing about the stuff. It was there that you drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke later, Grogu had tucked himself on your pillow with a small green hand on your cheek. It made you feel happy to see the little green one next to you, but you felt something in your hand. It was what had been on your back. Mando had one of his gloves off and was holding your hand with his bare one. His other hand was touching Grogu’s back but his glove was on. You turned away for a moment to let a tear fall. He cares about you, you’re more than useful, maybe.

Grogu remained asleep but Mando awoke, squeezing your hand in his. “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” You turned back to shush him and carefully sat up, the blanket falling off your partially and he released your hand to pull it around you. The back of your shirt was open and had fallen forward some when you got up, but not expose anything thankfully.  “You should keep warm. We’re on our way back to turn in the bounty. I-I am sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. They came out of nowhere. I was able to not get killed because of the blaster shots you had me practice and Grogu’s safe so-” Since you’re not holding Mando’s hand any longer, you grasp the blanket, to have something in your hand.

“You were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” His register is low, not threatening, but there’s sadness in it. He was sitting at your bedside mere moments ago. You wished to hop back in time and keep still so you wouldn't wake him. Just to have stayed in that moment a bit longer…

“I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” The blanket drops as you release it and you grab his bare hand with both of yours. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” Speaking as you lock your eyes on his t-visor, a deep hum is heard from the hunter, but you remain firm.

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” His thumb ran across your palm and tickled your skin making you chuckle. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

Part Two

Space Buddies: @linzels-blog @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid @harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @undercoverpena @pedroshotwifey

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Kylo Ren x plus size reader

The Supreme Leader had granted his padawan one vice, one thing he could take pleasure from, one thing that was only his. He could have picked spice or hooch, but the troubled Sith chose her.

Series Warnings: reader was kidnapped and manipulated into being a pleasure slave, tagged dub con to be safe, little bit of non con, smut, d/s dynamics, angst, fluff, blood, each chapter has their own warnings as well

WC: 13k

Minors DNI

‧₊˚His Pick‧₊˚

‧₊˚His First Hit‧₊˚

‧₊˚His High‧₊˚

‧₊˚His Addiction‧₊˚

‧₊˚His Weakness‧₊˚

‧₊˚His Greatest Strength‧₊˚

[cyarikasmoon]

Sweet Thing

Bad Batch Hunter x plus size f!reader

Summary: Hunter gets an evening with you, and he doesn't have to be in charge and gets cared for like he deserves.

Pairing: Bad Batcher Hunter x plus size f!reader

Word Count: 5,087

Warnings: smut, light dom/sub, sensory deprivation, light bondage, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight fluff, PiV sex

Divider by @freesie-writes & @snotbuggle

A/N: So this is my first time writing smut and I had a lot of fun with this. Hunter is so baby girl and he deserves all the loving. This is also cross posted on my ao3 cyarikas_moon. I hope you enjoy!! Feedback is appreciated!

“Hunter. Pay attention.”

He grunts softly, squirming where he kneels. 

“Trust me, I’m doing my best.” He mutters, slightly breathless. 

You raise an eyebrow. You shift gently to look down at him and he falters slightly, going still. He may not be able to see but with those senses of his but he was picking up on everything you were doing. The slightest movement, the smallest sound, the faint smell of… 

“Sorry.” He states quickly. 

“Sorry…?” You repeat his word with a slight tune to it. Teasing, mocking. 

“Sorry, Cyare.” 

“Good boy.” 

You don't miss how he stills once again, holding his breath for a split moment. 

You chuckle gently. He never let himself go easily. Why would he? Hunter was a leader, a protector, a Sergeant. He had his squad to take care of. To keep safe. They were never safe from the Empire. Always on the run, also looking over his shoulder. Hackles raised, ready for a fight. For danger. 

He was wound up so tight. Stiff and uncomfortable. He just needed to relax. To unwind and breathe and slip away. To let everything disappear and to feel safe. And that is just what you were doing for him. 

You walk around him gently. He was stripped from his waist upwards. His padded vest shirt was gone. The brown overshirt was discarded. You had peeled the top half of his blacks off of him slowly, allowing his body to get used to the exposure to the air. It wasn’t cold on Ord Mantell but Hunter couldn't stop the chill that ran through his body. His scarf served another purpose now. His hands behind his back, the red material wrapped around his wrists. Tight enough to rub against his skin if he squirmed anymore. He was a highly-trained soldier. A dangerous man. He could get out of the scarf in a fraction of a second if needed. 

But he wouldn't. Because he was a good boy. He would wait. 

His bandana had been moved down and now covers his eyes. One of his senses was taken away from him. In this moment, it was a blessing. A sweet surrender. Already, it was easier for him to begin to relax and focus. His remaining senses focused solely on you. Only you. 

You are gentle and light on your feet as you walk around him from where he knelt on the middle of the floor. He shifts in his position every now and then, the pads on his trousers saving his knees for the moment. You walk across the small space of your apartment and stop in front of your bed. Before you sit on the edge, you slip out of your trousers. Dark, thick material that makes a small thump as they drop down your legs and he cocks his head to the side, listening to the sound. 

You perch on your bed, sitting there now in just your underwear and chest bindings as you slip off your overshirt and throw it across the room. His head tilts again, following the sound. Always watching, always waiting. Wound up. Ready to spring at any moment. A soft chuckles leaves your lips and you part your legs gently, your hand moving down and your fingers gently stroking over the material of your underwear; the material thin and lacy giving you a better chance to touch yourself. 

You sigh gently, and his head turns to listen to you. He is quiet as he waits. Good and patient. You smile as you watch him at that moment. You had both been meeting up for a good few months at this point. During this time, you had many long nights together. Exploring each other and learning new things. Always new things to learn. Learning Hunter wasn't a challenge. It was a delight. A delicacy. It was… delicious

“You’re such a sweet thing really…” You murmu as you sit there, touching yourself as you watch him. 

Even though he can’t see you, he ducks his head slightly, cheeks heating up. You smirked. 

“You are Hunter. No use hiding from it.” You state. “Love seeing you like this. It’s thrilling truly, this power I get to hold over you.” 

You sighs gently as your fingers rub over your clothed pussy, pads of your fingers running over your clit, your breath hitching gently. His head snaps up fast. He takes a deep long breath through his nose, his exhale a groan. Stars, he could smell you. 

“It’s an honour as well.” You grin as you see how this affects him. “So proud that I get to see this side of you. To bring it out of you.” 

“Only you, Cyare.” He breathes out, voice earnest and desperate. 

“That's right, Pretty Boy. Only me.” 

Fingers glide over the thin material now in circular motions with ease as wetness makes them damp. His breathing picks up, slightly ragged. He squirms, shifting his weight on his knees. Wound up, ready to strike. But he wouldn't. He hadn't been given permission. Yet. 

“Proud of you for learning to let go as well.” You whisper now, moving your fingers faster. “Good boys like you deserve to have breaks and rest. To have good things. To be treated right.” 

A soft groan leaves him, restraint wearing thin. His head tilts up slightly. He breathes in. 

“Do you deserve good things, Hunter?” 

You look at him now. As he's looking up, he's leaning back onto his heels, and you can see him. Sees the outline of his cock straining in his trousers. Your fingers move faster. 

“I asked you a question, Sweet Thing.” Your voice now serious, your own needs spilling through now.

 Fingers weren't enough. And stars did he have a way with using his mouth. That tongue. Now, if only he would behave so you could both get what you want. 

“Yes…” His voice is rough and deep as he stays where he is; struggling to keep himself together. 

You slip your fingers under the waistband now and slide one in and lletout a soft sigh,. Hisgroan could be heard immediately afterwards. 

“That’s right. You deserve good things. Can you tell me what you want? Use your words, I know you can.” 

You breathe out as you curl your finger inside of yourself. You 6 yourself growing even more slick with arousal.

“Want you, Cyare. Need you.” He’s straining to move towards you but holds fast. If he 7 will all be over, and he’ll be left hard and suffering. 

“Need me, hm? I feel the same way, Pretty Boy. Fuck, I’ve missed your mouth on me… Been dreaming of it.” A second finger. “Use those memories to get myself off late at night when you’re gone on long missions when you should be here with me.” 

You speak quickly, impatient with your own game now as your heart rate picks up. You knows he can hear it. He knows, and he can smell you. 

“Cyare…” His voice sounds wrecked already and hasn’t even been able to taste you yet. 

“You can have me, Hunter. You’ve been so good waiting for me.” You whispers as you watch him, how he holds still but the slight tremor to him showing how desperate he is. “You just have to say those magic words.” 

An amused smile is on your lips at the small huff that leaves him. Just one final thing. One final thing, and he can let go and relax. You watch as he shifts slightly, his lips turned down into that trademark grumpy scowl of his when he’s thinking too hard. 

“Wasting time here, Sweet Thing.” You coo teasingly, a small sadistic smile playing on your lips. “I can just take care of myself, if not. I've been doing it all this time so-” 

“Please.” 

Hunter growls out, voice desperate and wrecked and on the verge of losing it. Giving in, giving up the power. His breathing ragged, the only thing ripping through the silence in the room. With him desperate and you victorious. 

You pull your fingers back out of your underwear and keep your legs spread as you watch him for a moment. Then you smile. 

“Come here.” 

You say it so calmly, so simply and it's like everything that was keeping him knelt in the middle of the room snapped. Anyone else would have struggled to reach you. Blind-folded, hands bound, on their knees. Not Hunter. Not your good boy. You watch with a rush of excitement that swoops through your abdomen, more arousal, making you slick at how he moves.

Hunter is pushing himself up quickly with his feet, using his knees to help so he can take the quick two strides across the room so he can fall to his knees again between your legs. You watch as his nostrils flare slightly, the sweet smell of you right in front of him now, captivating him. It was like a drug. He wanted more. He needed more. 

You smile and gently move your two wet fingers to his lips. 

“Open.” 

Hunter does with a groan, your index and middle finger in his mouth and he immediately uses his tongue to clean them, tasting your arousal like it was nectar from one of the many gods from all the different religions and planets he had heard of before. But he didn’t care about any of them. Nothing could beat this. Nothing in the whole galaxy. You smile at how he moves and cleans you up, whispering sweet words to him before you pull your fingers away. 

A noise that was a mixture of a groan and a whine leaves him as his head moves forward slightly, following your retreating fingers, fixated on the taste of you before he stops. He knows his place. He kneels there between your legs and waits for your next instruction. 

“Get these panties off of me.” You whispers and watches how he moves his head until his lips come in contact with your thighs. 

His lips press open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his nose nudging against you as he moves his way up and it bumps against the thin lacy material, how it sinks tight into your flesh and rolls overlap slightly. His mouth opens, and his teeth gently sink into her ample thigh, the plush size of them something he loves to hold if his hands are free. If he could, his large hands would be digging his fingers into your dimpled thighs and pushing them up so he could feast easily. 

But you were in charge tonight. So, for now, he will focus on what you are allowing him to have and enjoy for the moment. The pad of his tongue licks across that part of your thigh over the gentle ridges of the lightning marks on your skin. Tongue tracing the silver lines of your stretch marks. He bites down again, harder now, and your breath hitches. A sharp sudden tug on his hair has him letting go of yout skin and groaning, his cock twitching in his pants painfully now.

“Careful with those teeth.” You warn, but you love it. He knows it. “Now, listen to what I tell you to do and get these panties off of me!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He whispers, voice deeper and huskier than usual.

You huff and roll your eyes, but you are amused and love how that word sounds from his mouth when it's for you. Always for you. 

He lowers his lips against and drags his lips across her thigh to your hip, finding the band of the panties and delicately biting down on the material and dragging it down over your love handles, and working the panties down your thighs, groaning as you push your thighs together to tease him, the thick expanse of your legs pressed together tight. He continues to work and get them off of you, and you laugh and part your legs again so he can drag them over your knees. There, you kick them off your legs gently.

He’s there waiting, almost trembling in anticipation. He can’t see, but you're right there. Your cunt is right there and he knows it's so wet, glistening with your arousal from playing with yourself and his kisses to your skin just now. He’s desperate for a taste for you. He was a drunken fool waiting for the smallest chance to experience her. 

“Been so good, baby.” You whisper, your hands now stroking his hair, and he simply melts at your touch. He would do anything for you just to touch him like this always. He’d burn down the Empire for you . “Such a good boy. Go on, Sweet Thing.” 

Finally, stars, finally. 

Hunter surges forward, burying his face deep into your cunt, his tongue immediately flat against your slick folds and dragging up wards to taste and lick at you. The long, breathless moan you let out is fucking music to his ears, spurring him on. He eagerly laps at you, groaning at how you taste and gods. You're so wet. His lips move to your clit and he sucks and you scream, back arching and pushing your cunt against his face. He moves back to your folds and focuses on kissing and licking them. He knows you like the slow build-up, not too much at once. You don't get long evenings like this often. He wanted to savour everything he could. He would happily stay buried here, face in your pussy until he forgot the horrific world outside until all he knew was you, you, you. 

Your fingers slide back through his long locks, and your nails scratch at his scalp, and he groans, burying his tongue inside of you, and you pull. His cock ached in his pants, straining against the material. Everything felt so good, so fucking good but it wasnt enough. He needed, he needed- 

Your hands moved to the back of the bandana and how it was pulled down over his eyes. Your fingers toy with it, not pulling it off yet. But the option is there. He’s nodding against you, humming and making you sigh softly.

“Do you want to see, Sweet Thing?” You whispers, playing with the material. “I need you to answer me.” 

He pulls away for a moment, mouth wet and glistening. “Please, Cyare.” 

You smile and guide him back to your cunt and he continued to eat you out. The bandana is pulled slowly off of his head and strands of his hair fall across his face. He blinks and his eyes adjust to the soft light in the room. You look down at him, his eyes just visible over the velvet swell of your stomach. As he sucks on your clit his eyes look glazed over, so happy to be tasting you, consumed by your smell and taste. 

His dark brown eyes were virtually black, blown out with lust, and already seeming so far gone just from this. His eyes finally focus and find your eyes as your grip on his hair tightens. 

“There’s my Pretty Boy…” You whisper as you grind against his mouth. “Fuck you feel so good…” 

He groans against your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you and you moan softly, eyes rolling back and closing. You throws your head back, feeling your orgasm building, panting hard as it all builds. 

“C’mon Hunter, I’m close. Make me cum, Pretty boy. Make me cum.” You say quickly, moans becoming louder and more high pitched. “I know you can do it with just your mouth, you’re so good at it.”

He groans against your cunt, your words spurring him on. He nips and licks and sucks. The noises you make because of his actions and how he can make you feel this fucking good is like music to his ears. He sucks on your clit hard and you cry out, choking off with a moan. Your back arches, pushing your cunt further against his face. You pull hard on his hair and his eyes flutter shut. Your body trembles as your orgasm hits you, and he quickly laps up your release. He continues happily, lost in your cunt and your pleasure. His slow kisses and licks dwindling down as you ride through your orgasm, your fingers letting go of the harsh grip on his hair, gently tapping his cheek, and he instantly pulls away. 

“Fuck…” You whisper and smile. 

He watches softly, resting his tattooed cheek on the plump flesh of your stomach, panting himself, mouth wet, eyes focusing again. His hands are still bound behind his back. You look down and grin, stroking his hair. He leans into your touch, his nose nudging, almost nuzzling into the squishy skin of your stomach. He places a gentle kiss there that makes something deep within your core swoop, and he presses a kiss to your palm as your hand moves down from his hair to then stroke his cheek.

“Fuck, you’re so good Sweet Thing…” You whisper, chest rising and falling heavily. 

“Anything for you…” He whispers, voice rough. “Love your cunt, Cyare…” 

You laugh softly and grin at him, the thumb stroking his cheek, moving to his lips, running along the bottom one. 

“Want more of it, Sweet Thing? You’ve been so good and patient for me… Making me feel so good with that mouth of yours. Do you deserve a reward?” You ask him.

He groans softly, mouth gently biting the soft flesh of your stomach in a gentle nip. You tap his cheek as a gentle chide but you smile.

“Answer me, Hunter.” 

“I’ll take anything you give me.” The way he stares up at you, brown eyes baring deep into you, voice so sincere, you feels another sharp tug of want. 

“Fuck, c’mere.” 

You're sitting up now, leaning over him and down, lips connecting, and you kiss messy and quick. Your hands are reaching round his back to undo the scarf tied around his wrists. His tongue grazes across your bottom lip and soon you can taste yourself in his mouth. Hot breath and the slight clash of teeth, and finally, his hands are free. The moment the scarf falls, his hands move round to your thighs, holding onto the thick expanse of flesh. His hands are large by any means and he uses that to his advantage to possibly touch and grab and hold as much of your thighs as he can, nails digging in and he’s applying the perfect amount of pressure that he knows drives you crazy. Hearing you gasp into his mouth as his tongue swipes in fuels him on, and he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your thighs as he continues to kiss you like a starved man. 

“Hunter, Sweet Thing.” You gasp against his lips your hands have found their way up to his hair again, tangled in the long dark tresses. “Can you still be good for me?” 

“Yeah.” He grunts against you, forehead resting against your cheek for a moment as he seems to almost be catching his breath, collecting his thoughts in his fuzzy mind. Everything was just so good. The feel, the scent, the sight. Everything. 

“Up.” You 6 he stands in front of you, your eyesight now in line with his crotch and your hands move to his belt, pulling it away and pulling his pants down. 

Now in just his underwear, you sees the thick outline of his cock straining against the material, a dark patch forming. You run a gentle finger over the outline of it, and the sergeant trembles. The groan you pull from him is beautiful. You move your fingers away and quickly discards his underwear. His cock now free, hard and aching, dark and leaking pre cum. 

You bites your lip as you stare, smirking to yourself how he stands in front of you, knowing he can't make a move. Not even as you reach up and wrap nimble fingers around his length. You move your hand up and down slowly, pumping him once. 

“So pretty….” You whisper, staring up at him. 

He’s so tall compared to you. Towering over you, his chest rises and falls, with a toned body thick with muscle. He was a literal killing machine, a specialised clone, a sergeant. He’d seen battle after battle, and now, here he was. Stood trembling before the woman sat on the bed in front of him. All he wanted to do was touch you. You were sitting there, thighs spread slightly, leaning forward, your breasts hanging there, and he just wanted to cup them and grab them. Have you whining for him as he gropes and squeezes, his tongue running across them. He wanted to make you feel good. To pleasure you, be at your beck and call to do whatever you need. Ever. But no, he stands there frozen, stuck on the spot. Trembling with how your hand holds his cock now, not moving and he was desperate. 

He juts his hips forward slightly, trying to find some movement, some friction. Your hand squeezes around his cock in warning and he groans softly. He clenches his teeth, grinding them slightly, and his dark eyes fall on yours as you stare up at him, eyes narrowed, but the lust was full blown in them. 

“Be good, baby.” You whisper, but you are just so turned on, your thighs clenched together. 

“I’m tryin’.” He grunts out again, trying to stand still. 

His eyes fall shut as you pump him once more. 

“You made me feel so good just now, Sweet Thing… You deserve your reward now.” You coo softly. 

As he opens your eyes to see what you mean, he sees you just in time, your tongue darting out and licking up the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on the tip of your tongue and he can't help but moan. His cock twitches in your hand. 

“Cyare… Please…” He grits out. 

You grin up at him and squeezes his cock once more before you lets go. 

“Sound so pretty begging for me…" Seems that you're finally listening.” You smirk softly, and he huffs to himself. 

He then focuses as you shuffle back to lay on the bed, parting your legs and rubbing your clit gently and he bites his lip as he looks at the view of your glistening cunt. 

“Come and fuck me, Pretty Boy.” 

Permission. The green light. The thread snapped. 

Hunter surges forward, on top of you in a second. Eyes wild and pupils blown, like a crazed man as he stares down at your body. His eyes travel over your breasts, your stomach and rolls, looking at his cock between your legs, rubbing against your entrance. You breath hitches and you move your hips to rub your cunt against his dick. Your wet folds coating his cock in your arousal. 

She grinds your hips, staring up at him with a grin. Your hand reaches up and brushes down his chest, over the few curls of dark hair there, moving down his sternum. Dragging lightly over his stomach and down his happy trail, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You give it a squeeze. The pressure makes him groan above above, his dick twitching in your hand. The pearl of pre cum rubbing onto your clit as he waits. 

You look up into his eyes, both heavy and full of lust. You remain staring up at him, keeping this contact as you hold his cock and guides him into you, allowing him to push into your cunt. He instantly fills you up, sinking in all the way. A deep sound crawls its way out of his throat, a heavy grunt that's almost primal. Animalistic. Below him, your lips have parted into a silent sound, almost as if couldn't say anything. A light, airy breath left your lips, almost in a shaky manner as you look up at him. 

He’s there staying still, worshipping the feel of your tight, wet heat around him, your clenching your muscles around him, relishing in this feeling. They stay like that for a moment, living a lifetime in a second before you're moving your hand to hold his chin with your finger and your thumb, pulling him close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Fuck me like you mean it, Sweet Thing.” You whisper, lips grazing against his. 

He pulls out almost all of the way before he’s slamming back into you, causing you to cry out, and he grins. Here was his reward. To turn you into a mess like you had done to him. His hips snap forward, picking up speed into a steady and fast rhythm. Neither of them were going to last long tonight, it seemed. 

His hands are on you. One holding the overlapping plush skin of your hip, nails digging in and leaving crescent moon shape marks there. You want them to last for days. His other hand cups your breast, squeezing, fondling, groping. You lean down and drag his tongue up her sternum, between your breasts, and begin to pepper kisses across the skin. He keeps doing this until he reaches your hardening nipple. He takes it into his mouth, and it pebbles at the wet contact. 

You're moaning and throwing your head back, eyes closed in bliss at the feeling of everything. The pet names have long gone at this moment. Just the constant chant of Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. With each moan of his name, he finds himself plunging harder and deeper into your cunt. The sergeant is drunk off the taste of your pussy, the feel of it wrapped around him. He releases your nipple and is panting ragged above you, his hot breath tickling your skin. 

He glances at your for a moment, dark eyes begging, telling you what he needs as he now slows and makes deep, slow agonising thrusts, grinding deep into you. You open your eyes at the change of pace and catch his eyes. Those pretty eyes. God, he had been so good. Your hands move up into his thick dark hair, threading through and nails scratching his scalp as you hold onto his hair. 

“Cum for me, baby.” You breathes out, clenching around him. “Cum in me, Sweet Thing.” 

Hunter’s grinding deep now, deep low grunts leaving him as he spears his cock deep into you. His hips stutter as his rhythm breaks, becoming unsteady as his orgasm builds. His name is a prayer on your lips. Your name is a whisper breathed onto your skin like a confession, a secret. In that moment, as he is bowed over you, his lips pressing kisses to your collar bone now up to the juncture of your neck that meets your shoulder. All act and pretence is gone as your walls flutter around him and his cock pulses deep within you. 

You're close as well. He can tell. How your heart rate has picked up, the small shake to your body that he can feel on his fingertips. The tremor in your voice, getting more high-pitched. You were so close and you could cum on just his cock alone but-

He is quick to move one hand between them to press his fingers to your clit and your cries flood his senses, burning into his mind forever. He growls low and deep as he cums, long thick ropes deep inside of you. He grunts into your skin as his teeth sink down into the flesh of your shoulder. You clench tight around him as your body ripples with the white heat of your orgasm at the feeling of how he fills you up and how those skilled fingers of his pull you apart with ease. 

He collapses on top of you, teeth letting go of your skin to kiss and nuzzle his nose into your neck, breathing heavy. His cock still twitches inside of you and you whine softly at the feeling. Your nerves feel like they are all alight and on fire in the best possible way. Your hands have moved to wrap around him as best as they can, struggling to fully hold his toned torso. Your hands find their home with one in his hair, the other clinging to his back, almost in a possessive claim; desperate to keep him close. 

The world is quiet. He relaxes. He focuses on the simple rhythmic sounds of both of your breathing. Quick, deep, shaky. He can feel the thrum of your heartbeat and how it calms him. With all of the chaos in this messed up broken galaxy, he finds himself stuck in and trying to save his family and keep them safe… You are a constant. Your heartbeat, your laugh, your touch, how you care for him. His hands move around and squeeze your plush body. 

“You okay, Sweet Thing?” You whisper the name once more, checking his space, checking him.

He nods against you. 

“Yeah Cyare.” He lifts his head up to look at you and matches your small smile with his own lazy grin. “Everything’s perfect.” 

“Yeah? You were so good…” You whisper as you stroke the tattooed side of his face. 

“Well, it’s almost perfect.” He comments. 

Your face is cute as it turns into a confused frown. Your lips, bow-shaped, jut out into a pout that he can't help but kiss again. 

“What-?” You begin to say, trying to talk in between the kisses he peppers you with and you feels his cock twitch inside you again before he pulls out. 

You gasp softly at the sudden, empty feeling, feeling how he leaks out of you. He looks down at the mess between them and the sight of your pretty cunt and grins up at you. 

“Have to clean this up. Now that’s my reward.” He commented, that smirk on his lips, and it grew at the sound of your laughter. 

A light cackle of pure joy and disbelief. The laugh he only gets to hear when he's just so relaxed and just his in that moment. 

“You’re unbelievable!” You scoff, but the amusement is evident from the happy gleam in your eyes. 

“You love it.” He grunts out, the smell of your captivating him again.

“Yeah, I do.” You whispers, words light and airy as your eyes close in bliss as the sergeant buries his face between your thick thighs. And the silence of the night is replaced with gentle moans once more.  

[nymphoatic]

alas i am a star wars girl over a marvel girl any day ! writing for din djarin soon 🫡

[ceapa-mica]

My take on Thrawn with a plus size! s/o:

- Ok this man LOVES your body! To him it's the most precious piece of art he's ever laid eyes on. Your cellulite and every single stretchmark of yours are a part of it. He appreciates it all - and he makes sure to show his appreciation whenever he can, both verbally and physically.

- If you're insecure about your looks, he shows you art of cultures where plus size is considered a beauty standard.

- He never misses an opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are.

- Should anyone ridicule you for your weight, or for basically any reason, rest assured that Thrawn will take care of it. Any bully will be dealt with and you will never see them again. He's a Grand Admiral after all.

Feel free to add more to this headcanon! ❤️

[plussizedreader]

Darth Maul x Plus Sized AFAB! Reader Headcanons

This is one of two sfw and nsfw headcanon request from @localnightmare13! This one will focus on Darth Maul, and the next post will focus on Amanda Young. The reader is afab, but can be read as whatever, as I'm not using any pronouns! I do hope ya'll enjoy, it's a bit rushed!

Warnings- Smut under the cut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, oral, piv sex.

SFW HEADCANONS-

To this day, Maul is baffled why someone as beautiful and soft and just, perfect as you loved him as much as you did.

But he loves it nonetheless.

He loves how you always want to be near him, always by his side.

He especially loves how quickly you took to the Dark Side and how eagerly you took to the training. You are fierce and violent, and the perfect companion by his side on the throne of Mandalore.

Maul can't get enough of how much he loves how touchy feely you are. Normally, he would hate others touching him in anyway then what was necessary, but not with you. He loved every touch of yours he could get, no matter how brief it is. But that's never a problem, seeing as how you are almost always by his side, holding his hand, or his hand around your waist, or more commonly, you sitting in his lap while he sits on the throne.

Even though you took to the Dark Side quickly, you had a kindness and patience that he lacked at times, making yourself a balance to his cold anger.

NSFW Headcanons-

Where do I even start? Maul simply cannot get enough of you. He will eat you out like a starving man. He simply loves being between your thighs, watching you squirm as his horns poke into your thighs as he devours you.

Speaking of that throne, there's two things you and him love doing on that chair.

And one is you in his lap, riding him. sitting there, watching you take him and your body bounce as you chase your pleasure. He just can't help it, and will often times reach out and grab a handle full of your amble breast, playing with them, teasing your nipples, pulling out every sweat noise out of you.

other times, he'll have you completely naked and on your knees in front of him, sucking him off. This is probably his favorite way to have you, watching you grind your clit against his metal foot, chasing your own pleasure.

For such a well spoken man that Maul is, he fails to articulate just how much he loves every piece of you. He loves every stretch mark and curve and roll on you, but the minute me tries to vocalize it he turns into a babbling fool

[drawingdroid]

Drawing Droid’s chaotic Masterlist

Hi, I’m Terry, a Spanish Illustrator & Art teacher who is too obsessed with a space dad and his green child. I love writing fics of them as well as doodling anything Star Wars-related. Thank you for sticking with me on this adventure, see you around. 🩵

General info of interest idk

🩵 You can find all my art under #droiddraws and my writings as #droidwrites

🩵 Currently, I write Din Djarin x GN!Reader or Din Djarin x M!Reader (transmasc)

🩵 I update on AO3 here

One Shots

To be taken care of 🍾 AFAB Bounty Hunter Reader | Smut 🔥

Sweet Potato 🍠 Modern AU | GN Reader | Neighbours | Fluff

Five days with Din Djarin 🔧 GN Engineer Reader | Smut 🔥

Series

The Unknown Regions 🪐 Plus Size Fem Reader | Adventure, Fluff and Smut 🗓️ Complete

That damn teal armor! 🔪Transmasc Mando Reader | Angst, Fluff and Smut 🗓 Ongoing

Melting Point 🌋 Modern AU | Sculptor Din Djarin | Art PhD Fem Reader | Slow Burn 🗓️ On hiatus

Gifts & Requests

Boba Fett x Medic Fem Reader Imagine | Smut | Drabble

Count Dooku x Dressmaker Fem Reader | One shot | Smut & Romance | Age Gap

Sketches

Vader under the suit red and blue

Anakin and Padme

Revenge of the Sith Happy Ending AU

Agent Whiskey and Grogu

Grogu Doodles here, here and here 💚

Silly Thanksgiving Din

Bento Box Grogu

Tired Din in suspenders

Cowboy Grogu

Menstrual cup Din

Confused Din Djarin

Oil on canvas Din process and finished

Here I put all my fav fics and art from other creators I love! Don’t wanna have that gems lost in the vastness of the internet!

Fav Art

That amazing comics of Din and Grogu that make me cry @abigaillarson

Best SW comics in the galaxy @stealingpotatoes

Supreme Din Djarin Art @immarocketman

Din an Grogu being cute & chaotic af by @wwapich

The cutest SW chibis @nikkigam

@kate-komics is who I aspire to be as a comic artist

Fav Fics

Sweetest Modern Din Djarin AU @604to647

All my fav Pedro Boys by @fuckyeahdindjarin

The cutest Din!!! By @thefrogdalorian

Everything by @beskarandblasters honestly

Other

The dividers we can’t live without from @saradika @saradika-graphics

[jojooasis]

May the 4th be with you my pretties.

[handspunyarns]

Day Fourteen point Five (Marathel).

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C 

word count: 6K 

chapter summary: Marathel throws another mug, takes her first shower, and gets a little tipsy 

warnings:  violence to pottery, mention of stomach illness, allusion to sexual/physical abuse and rape, alcohol use, English cursing 

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***      

You Were Marked: Masterlist   

<- You Were Marked: Previous Chapter 

Marathel started to wake up, but she was quite confused.  She felt very warm and very comfortable, curled upon her side as she was on a soft tick, under a soft blanket, but something was not right … or was something missing?  Her ear was covered, her feet were covered with the blanket securely tucked underneath (so they can’t see me, if they can’t see me then they can’t hurt me) but something was different.  She was wearing soft pants and a shirt, not her usual nightwear, but that wasn’t quite it.  Marathel shifted a bit but still couldn’t put her finger on what she was confused about, or why, so she flipped back the blanket so she could get up. 

“Oh, finally waking up then …?” 

Marathel shrieked and grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be a heavy mug that was easy for her splinted hands to hold as it was square-shaped — and identical to the one she had thrown at the droid yesterday — but she was unaware that her hands were now in new minimalist metal splints, had forgotten that her hands were in splints to begin with — and she launched the mug in the direction where the strange voice had come from.  Cobb ducked with a yelp, quickly sliding off the padded chair to the floor to escape the missile hurled at his head, and the mug exploded against the wall behind him.   

“Okay, no more mugs for you, lady!” bellowed Cobb as he jumped up, pointing a finger in Marathel’s direction.  “Dank ferrik!” he shouted at no one in particular as he stomped out of her room. 

Marathel was frozen, her arm still extended, and then she drew a quick breath in surprise, her hand going to her mouth.  She couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or laugh, and the only noise she could make was a squeaky snort through her nose.  After getting some control of herself, Marathel noticed for the first time that her hand was not in the wooden splint, but in a cunning and strange metal arrangement that allowed her to flex her fingers while still getting support for her full hand.  Marathel was also surprised to find that her hands did not hurt quite as much.  There was pain, yes, but the sort of pain that came with long healing, bones knitting together, tendons reattaching.  She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, noticing that her knee seemed to be better as well.  She gingerly stood up, testing her weight, and decided that while it seemed better, she really needed to stay off it, so she sat back down. 

Fennec came in then, asking, “What the kriff is going on?” 

“I threw a mug at Cobb’s head.” 

“Yes, I heard.  Have you considered not throwing mugs at things that startle you?  It’s a good thing you don’t use a blaster.  I couldn’t begin to guess what you’ve thrown at Mando.” Fennec bent down and picked up some of the larger shards. 

“Just some rocks.  And a couple of eggs.”  Oh, and yourself, you stupid woman. 

“Eggs?” 

Marathel shrugged.  “He deserved it.” 

Fennec smiled.  “That, I do not doubt.” 

Marathel looked down at her hands in her lap.  “I’m sorry I keep breaking mugs.  And I’ll apologize to Cobb when I see him.” 

“Please, what’s a couple of mugs?  You should have seen some of the things that have happened in this damn palace.  Two mugs are small change in comparison.”  Fennec looked at Marathel, sitting primly with her hands in her lap.  She appeared to be making herself as small as possible.  “You know, not everything new is terrifying.” 

Easy for you to say, thought Marathel.  I can’t even manage to sleep on a raised bed.  She lifted her hands to eye level.  “I’m not scared of my new splints.  I like them.  They are very clever.” 

“They are.  They should allow you to do more things now.  Are you in pain?” 

Marathel shook her head.  “Not so much.  Not like before.” 

“Your bleeding has slowed significantly, too,” said Fennec.  Marathel turned back to look at the rumpled bed: the absorbent pad she slept on had a few light lines of blood, whereas before she would soak through the pad completely.   

“Does that mean it’s working?” 

“It looks that way.  How does that make you feel?” 

Marathel wasn’t sure, exactly, but she knew what Fennec wanted to hear.  “Hopeful.”  Perhaps I’ll eventually believe it. 

“I’m glad to hear it.  I brought you some new clothes.  I was thinking you might want to take a shower and wash your hair.” 

Marathel looked at Fennec, puzzled.  “Take a shower?  Like a rain shower?  There’s no rain.” 

Fennec blinked.  “No … I meant in the fresher,” she said, waving her hand towards the room where the vac tube was. Marathel still looked confused.  “I’ll show you.”  Fennec led Marathel to the fresher, opened the door, and then turned on the water.  “See?  A shower.  And in here …” Fennec popped open the storage bin within.  “Shampoo, soap, body moisturizer, facial moisturizer …” 

“Shampoo?” 

“Soap for your hair.” 

Marathel frowned.  “Why do I need a different soap for my hair?” 

Fennec laughed.  “Because your hair is different than your skin.  Just go with it, Marathel, enjoy it.”  Fennec set out fluffy towels and pointed out a small contraption called a hair dryer and opened a drawer that held combs and other toiletries.“By the way, you should probably close and lock the door while you’re in here.”  She left, and Marathel followed her advice and locked the door to her room so that she could have privacy.   

Undressing — amazed she could do so herself, with her new finger splints — she stepped under the spray and was immediately delighted.  It was like being under a warm waterfall, but without the occasional fish and branch landing on her head.  Marathel opened the tube that Fennec told her was soap for her hair, and the scent of sweet fruit filled her nose.  She rubbed a small amount through her hair, and she watched as dirt and dried blood left her hair and swirled away down the grate in the floor.  She used the shampoo again — a more generous amount this time — and then applied the soap with a cloth as gently as possible around her wounds.  The soap had a scent that she couldn’t place but reminded her of fresh grass.  Marathel laughed, wondering why people wanted to smell like fruit and plants, when eating fruit and walking on grass was more enjoyable. 

Marathel could have stayed under the water spray for hours, but she remembered that this was a dry place where the water was scarce, so she reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out.  She began to scrub her hair with one of the towels when her eye caught the large mirror that took up a big section of the wall.  Marathel had never seen a mirror so large before, and she’d been largely avoiding it since coming here.  She lowered the towel and assessed her reflection. 

The first thing she saw was the huge gash down the center of her face.  Marathel’s breath caught with the memory of the Bishop carving her face, the horrible words he said to her as he did so, and she closed her eyes tight to quiet her mind.   

Opening her eyes, Marathel looked at the line of little bottles and tubes Fennec had left her.  Moisturizers, that’s what she said.  The face one was allegedly different than the one for the body, for some reason, but   the bottles had pictures of fruit or plants on them, or a flower, or just colored squiggles, and not a picture of a face or body, so Marathel just picked out the one she liked best, which reminded her of the clean water from the rocky stream and the yellow cup-shaped flowers she liked so much.  She slathered this on her skin — which felt wonderful — everywhere she could reach, and then worried about how she was going to get the stuff out from under all the metal bits now wrapped around her fingers.  Carefully using the corner of the towel seemed to work. 

Marathel then turned her attention to her hair, which seemed to behave differently here than back on Unmanarall.  There, her hair hung straight and heavy, and only had to be tucked behind her ears or into a loose knot and it would stay there; here, her hair took on a mind of its own and was fluffy, wavy, crackling around her head even before using the hair dryer.  The hair dryer thing was loud and blew air hot as fire directly at her in an uncomfortable way.  The top was mostly dry anyway, so she combed the top part into sections and twisted it into a loose braid.  She found a little stretchy round band that secured the end.  Looking in the mirror again — ignoring the red wound down her forehead and nose — she liked what she saw: a pale face surrounded by tendrils of wavy silver hair that floated away from her face. 

Her eyes then skimmed down her bare body and she saw little to recommend it: doughy flesh of a color like fish skin, sagging breasts, a roll on her belly, and hips and thighs that jiggled when she walked.  Then there were the slashes, bite-marks, and bruises.  A small flare of rage ignited inside her.  Her flesh, plump and unfirm though it was, should be hers and hers alone.  Wasn’t that what Din said?  She hadn’t consented when the Dahls overpowered her with their mating impulses, he had told her.  He had made such a point of that when he begged her permission to touch her once the Dahls had finished their mating cycle. No man had ever asked permission from her, ever, not once in her life.  Take, that’s all they’ve ever done to me. 

Marathel shivered; she could not think about that right now.  Too much had happened today, and her mind was tired.  Marathel left the fresher room and went to the little pile of clothing Fennec had brought her.  There was a pair of dark pants, a light woven shirt in a deep purple, and a long vest as green as the summer grass.  She also found a soft brace for her knee and what appeared to be undergarments; they were like her shifts but in two parts.  They also seemed to be like compression garments, supportive.  The bottoms were easy enough, but the top garment was awkward to put on with its hooks and strange shoulder straps.  She assumed it was on correctly; she couldn’t think of a different way to wear it and was surprised to find that her breasts were lifted somehow by the garment, a new sensation for her.   She pulled on the compressive brace for her knee, and then the pants, which were very soft and very form-fitting.  The shirt fit well but felt low-cut to Marathel.  She looked down at herself at the unaccustomed amount of exposed skin above the neckline, considering the undergarment that lifted her bosom, and pulled on the vest, which gave her some modesty.  All she had for footwear were her soft slippers, so she put those on as well. The stone floors here were not kind to bare feet. 

There was a knock on her door.  Pulling on a veil over her hair and forehead, Marathel opened it slightly to see Cobb Vanth on the other side, holding another mug identical to the one she’d hurled at him.  Smiling hopefully, Cobb offered the mug and asked, “Truce?” 

Marathel chuckled and fully opened the door, taking the mug.  “I’m sorry I threw a mug at you.” 

“And I’m sorry I blew up at you, but, damn, woman, you’re dangerous.”  His eyes flicked downward and back up, making Marathel flush again.   “I do wish you wouldn’t cover your face and hair like that …  a face like yours shouldn’t be spoiled by a veil.”  He took a moment longer to gaze at her, and then belatedly said, “I’m also here to find out if you’re hungry.”  Marathel blinked, because it turned out she was hungry.  She nodded.  “Well, then, I get to accompany you.”  He turned and held out his elbow. 

Marathel frowned.  “What are you doing?” 

Cobb pulled a face at her, then sighed and took her hand, placing it in the crook of his arm.  Marathel closed her door and let Cobb slowly escort her down the corridor.  Marathel shyly looked up at him and said, “You don’t have to do this.” 

“Too bad, Mar’, my ma raised a gentleman who treats a lady like a lady … whether she is one or not.” 

Marathel smiled blandly.  “I wouldn’t know how a lady should be treated.”   

She had meant it as a joke, some light-hearted statement to be thrown away and forgotten, but Cobb frowned down at her with a thoughtful look on his face, putting his other hand over hers on his arm. “Well, Marathel, I think that’s a damn shame.” Marathel couldn’t tell anymore if her face was flushing again or now just permanently flushed: this Cobb Vanth had a way of unnerving her. 

After a few moments of silence, she asked, “Would you please tell me … what is a marshall and a freetown?” 

“Well, as Marshall I’m the person in charge of law and order in Freetown, a little mining town out in the desert.  One of those places where you blink, and you miss it.” 

“Law and order?” 

He shrugged.  “I’m in charge of telling people doing wrong to cut it out.” 

“What happens when you’re not there?  Do people just … run roughshod everywhere?” 

Cobb grimaced.  “I kriffing hope not.”  He laughed.  “No, I have a deputy keeping tabs on things.  The town is fine; it’s mostly other people coming in from the outside that cause most of the problems.” 

“Why are you here, then?” 

“You’re holding on to it.”  She looked down at his metal arm.  “It’s a big modification that needs fine tuning.  It’s not quite right yet.” 

Marathel ran the fingertips of her other hand down Cobb’s cybermodded limb, making him wish he could feel it.  “I was so afraid that I would end up with something like this.” She frowned. “But then, I never knew such a thing could be done.  I now wonder why … some will do things like build a new arm, when others do things … like where I came from.”  

Cobb’s heart ached for her, a victim of a hellish place.  “I don’t know.  I wish people didn’t have to come from a planet like yours.” 

“I never knew there was a planet to come from. Not until Din told me where to see Nevarro.  I’m sure he thought …” Marathel looked around her.  “Where are we going?” 

“Din thought what now?” 

“No, I mean — we passed the kitchen long ago.” 

“Oh, no, we are heading to the far courtyard.  This way.” They passed through an archway and into a open outdoor area with many plants and succulents.  At the far end, under a pergola covered in flowered vines, were Boba and Fennec, seated at a table.  They were laughing while Boba poured something from a large flagon for Fennec.  “Finally here,” Cobb called to them. 

“Oh, good,” said Fennec.  “The kitchen went mad again; they keep forgetting that Jabba is still dead, and they don’t have to make as much food.” 

“Frith in heaven,” muttered Marathel upon seeing the table.  There was enough food on it to feed all the Hold’s children.  Cobb pulled out a chair for her, but Marathel looked at him blankly until he whispered to her to sit.  Boba filled a delicate glass from the flagon and called it spotchka, warning Marathel to sip it very slowly and in only tiny amounts.  “Oh!” said Marathel.  “Does this make you feel warm and fuzzy if you drink it too fast?” 

Fennec giggled; she was already a glass or two in.  “I take it you have something similar on your planet?” 

“Yes, dreamberries.  The fruit can be made into a drink, but I like it better as a cooked sauce.  We had some … that is, Din and I, on roasted gorujellys.”  Marathel looked down at her hands.  She remembered that was also the night Din had touched her most intimately, and she had slept in his arms; for the briefest of moments, they were each other’s and that was all that mattered. 

Cobb watched the high color creep back in on Marathel’s cheekbones.  Her face is so luminous; you can almost tell what she’s thinking.  Din had told him how he had come so close to kissing her that day, almost willing to expose his face to her, even before eating dreamberry sauce; if she’d asked him then if he’d take off his helmet, he would have gladly done so and never put it back on.  He’d been so overwhelmed when she allowed him to touch her that he declared his love for her — but in Mando’a (how chickenshit of you, Din) — and she’d said something in return in her own language, but neither of them had provided a translation for what they’d said.  Din was half-afraid that she’d rejected him (unlikely), or she had said something completely opposite to him (even more unlikely).  These two, Cobb thought.  They are going to dance around each other like dewbacks in rutting season.  He would have found it amusing if he wasn’t half-smitten with her himself.   

Marathel, meanwhile, had been struggling with utensils as she tried to eat.  Her fingers were still clumsy, and the metal fork was too heavy for her to hold.  After dropping it half-a-dozen times, she finally gave up and used the flat bread to scoop up the tender meat and grains off her plate.  She had been successful so far at getting food into her mouth and not on her lap, when Cobb said, “Marathel, tell me … how did you and Din meet again?”   

Boba and Fennec snickered, but Cobb knew that Marathel had a complete lack of guile and would simply answer truthfully.  Marathel looked at him, her hand still holding the meat and flat bread halfway to her mouth.  “I …” She put the food back on her plate and dropped her hands and eyes to her lap.  “I saw him coming towards my hut, and I didn’t know who he was.  I had never seen anyone like him before.”  All gleaming metal, as if he’d been created from the wall on the first floor of the Hold.  No face, just a head covered in metal.  The brown clothing underneath the metal, the heavy boots, the ragged grey cape.  There was no clothing of those colors in the Hold: only Captain red, Duke green, Bishop blue, and Hunter green.  Brown was for bedding.  Grey was for cleaning.  No such heavy boots, with straps and belts everywhere, covered with bits of metal. 

“What did you throw at him?” asked Fennec.  “Was it a rock or an egg? Or a frying pan?” 

Cobb scowled at Fennec, but a smile curled Marathel’s lip.  “A rock.  Actually, two rocks.  I missed on the first throw.” Marathel carefully clasped her glass of spotchka with both hands and took a sip.  “Oh my, that’s lovely.  Got him right on the helmet with the second one, though.” 

“So, when did you throw the eggs?” 

“Oh, that was a couple days later.” 

Cobb sighed.  “You’re jumping ahead, Fennec …” 

Marathel took another sip. “When he said that he was a bounty hunter, I had no idea what he meant.  He said he would put down his blaster if I put down my rocks.  I didn’t know what a blaster was, so I got a sharp stick instead.”  Fennec chortled.  Marathel went on with her story, describing her fear of the Bishop’s voice in the tracking fob, her fear that Mando would hurt the Dahls, and her initial fear of Grogu.   

“You cannot tell me you were frightened of that little child,” said Boba. 

“That little child is green and has giant ears!” retorted Fennec.  

Fennec and Boba began a colorful argument about what could or could not be terrifying to someone like Marathel, and Cobb finally just turned his chair to face her.  He crossed his ankle over his knee and draped his arm on her chair back.  Leaning in close to Marathel, he said, “You just don’t fit the, uh, usual profile of the type of bounty Mando tends to go after.” 

Marathel shrugged.  “I wouldn’t know.” 

“I think he was just as surprised by you as you were by him.  What bounty invites the hunter into her home?” 

Marathel sipped at her glass again; Cobb noticed that she had nearly drained the glass.  “I suppose one that doesn’t know the rules of a bounty hunter. One … that is sad.  And lonely.  And curious about a little green child with large ears that is fiercely protected by a large man of metal when he encounters creatures like the Dahls, or a woman throwing rocks.” 

“So, it was the child that you fell in love with first.” 

“Oh yes, Grogu was so charming immediately.  Children are easy to love.  I’ve cared for many, hoped I would have many of my own to raise and love.”  Cobb smiled behind his hand; a thimbleful of spotchka could set her tongue wagging.  He poured her another half-glass.  “But then, watching the Bounty Hunter feed Grogu, even just the act of moving a mug away from him because it wasn’t good for him to drink … that spoke to me in a way that’s … so hard to explain.” 

Marathel was leaning back in her chair, looking at the night sky above her, her face thoughtful, and for once, not afraid.  Boba and Fennec had stopped their mild bickering and were now listening, Fennec with her head against Boba’s shoulder.  Cobb slowly leaned forward, putting his hand on her knee.  “Give it a try,” he said quietly. 

“Men don’t … I’ve never known a man who cared about a child.  Men as I know them, a child is just … just a thing.  A product of fucking a Whyn.”  Cobb, Boba, and Fennec exchanged glances; they had not heard her say the word fucking before now.  Marathel seemed to not notice.  “Men care nothing for a child or woman except for what use they can get from them.”  Marathel sighed.  She looked down at her glass and looked confused as to why it was full again.  She took a long sip and went back to looking at the sky.  “The Bounty Hunter …  the gentleness he showed in his care of Grogu … I thought his name was Bounty Hunter and I thought his helmet was his face.  But, for the first time in my life, I saw a father.  And I wanted so much to know a man like that, because I didn’t know a father, not a sire, but a father, could exist.” 

They were all quiet for a while.  Marathel took another sip from her glass.  Cobb was gently stroking her knee, gazing at her with a knitted brow, but she didn’t seem to notice.  Frowning at the sky, Marathel asked, “Which one is Nevarro?” 

Boba looked up.  “You can’t see it from here.  Nevarro is too close to the horizon to be seen.” 

“Oh,” said Marathel quietly.  “I hope … I wonder if they … if Grogu is all right.” 

Boba said, “You could message them.  I think it’s late night there, but Mando doesn’t live by clocks.”  He held out a holopad in her direction.  “Here.” 

Marathel put her glass on the table and carefully took the proffered holopad, asking, “Message?” 

“Just tap it in, Cobb can show you how to send,” said Fennec. 

Marathel turned the holopad over and over in her hands.  “I don’t understand.” 

Cobb scooted his chair closer.  “Here …” he said, turning the pad over the correct way, and bringing up the keyboard.  “There you go.”  He continued to hold it up for her. 

Marathel stared at the screen.  It was half-filled in tiny, illuminated squares, each one with an unintelligible squiggle inside.  “I don’t know how …” 

Boba frowned. “Did I leave it on Huttese instead of Aurebesh?” 

Marathel continued to stare at the screen.  “No, I …” 

A few moments passed, and then it finally clicked for Fennec.  “You can’t read or write, can you, Marathel?”   

Marathel’s head dropped, and her hands went immediately up her sleeves. “I don’t know what you mean.  I don’t know read or write. I don’t know those words,” Marathel stammered, and her throat felt thick and tight with tears and shame at yet another thing she had no knowledge of.  

“Those are letters on the screen,” said Fennec.  “They form the words we say, so we can communicate without talking.  Does that make sense?”  Marathel nodded, frowning.  “I know of other places where girls aren’t allowed to learn to read.”  Marathel looked up at Fennec.  While she was glad to learn that she was not alone in this fault of hers, it saddened her more that there were others on these planets she had just now learned about where people suffered as she did. Perhaps more. Fennec asked, “Did any of the girls at the Hold learn to read?” 

“I don’t think so.”  She dashed the few tears that had fallen with the side of her hand.   “Maybe the boys did in the Round Building.  We weren’t supposed to know what else they did in there.  There were some walls that had squiggles like those,” she said, pointing at the screen, “painted on them.  Girls didn’t learn in the Round Building.  We only went in there to clean, and to … be of service.”  Marathel fell silent. 

Cobb cleared his throat.  “Well, we can still send a message, anyway … here,” he said. 

BF: Marathel wants to know if Grogu is okay  

“What did you say?” asked Marathel. 

“That you wanted to know if Grogu is okay.  Here, look …” Cobb put his finger on the screen under the sentence he had entered.  “These letters here, that spells Grogu, and those here, that spells Marathel.” 

“That’s my name?” 

Cobb reached into a pocket, pulling out a tiny notepad and a stub of pencil he always carried with him.  “I’ll do you one better.”  As large as he could fit it, he wrote her name in Aurebesh, drawing a line under it so she knew which way was up.  He gave it to her, watching as she traced the letters with her finger, a small smile of wonder on her face. 

That’s my name.  That’s me.  Just this simple act of knowing her name existed in a somehow permanent fashion cheered her heart.  It made her feel … as if she were real, recognizable by others. Marathel looked at Cobb.  “Now what happens?” 

“We wait for Din to answer.  It may take a while.  He might not be near his holopad.”  Within a few moments, however, the holopad pinged with an incoming message.  “Or he will answer right away.” 

Marathel gasped with surprise.  From so far away, he can answer this quickly?  “What … what did he say?” 

Cobb smiled.  “He says that Grogu has an upset stomach.” 

“Grogu?  An upset stomach?” Marathel giggled into her hand.  “What happened to his stomach of beskar?” 

Cobb grinned.  “Let’s find out.”  He tapped in Marathel’s question.  Almost immediately the holopad pinged again.  Cobb chuckled.  “He says ‘compromised by fruit’.”  

Marathel leaned back in her chair, laughing now in earnest, pushing her veil off her face and head. Cobb suddenly felt jealous of Din, who obviously had her heart in the palm of his leather-clad hand.  “Oh, too much fruit goes right through a child!  He should know better.”  She chuckled again.  “Cachu o lwyc, ni asth’mabh.” 

Cobb smirked.  “I have no clue how to spell that, so I need a translation.” 

Marathel took her glass back off the table and drank the remaining spotchka, earning her a raised eyebrow from Fennec.  Marathel whispered loudly, “I said, ‘you’re shit out of luck, you son of a bitch’.”  She giggled. 

“Yeah, I’m not sending that.”  Cobb tapped out a message, and after a moment, there was a return message.   “I told him you wished him luck, and he says, ‘thank you’.”  Cobb handed the holopad back to Boba.  “And no more spotchka for you.”  Marathel burped daintily in response.  “You better eat some more, or you’ll be cursing my name tomorrow, and I don’t know the Mandalorian punishment for letting his lady get toasted.” 

Marathel’s smile faded.  No, I’m not his lady.  Not like that.    “I can’t hold the fork.  My hands don’t work right.” 

Cobb laughed and grabbed a plate of meat-wrapped castan nuts.  “Here,” he said, popping one into her mouth.   

Marathel hummed with delight.  “Mmm, tasty.” 

Cobb put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned her head back on his arm as he continued to feed her the nuts.  After some time, Fennec poked Boba in his thigh.  He looked down as she used the sign language of the Sand People to ask him: 

Should we be worried about this? 

Boba watched Cobb and Marathel for a while across the table.  Finally, he signed back: 

Let’s just write this off on the spotchka.  For now. 

Fennec nodded.  “Marathel …” Marathel looked over at her.  “If you’d like to learn to read, we can get you a holopad with some teaching primers.  A lot of people can’t read, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn.”  

Marathel thought about that for a moment, and then said, “I’d like that.”  Fennec smiled back at her.   

The Modifier approached, asking if Marathel was ready to repeat the series of injections.  Marathel looked at her glass, her brow furrowed with worry.  “No, a bit of spotchka isn’t going to affect the treatment.  It might even help, since you’re now … tranquilized a bit,” said the Modifier. 

Cobb gently took her hand, and whispered, “I’ll stay with you, if you want.”  Marathel nodded.  He stood up, assisted her to stand, and escorted her back to the palace, his hand gently placed on the small of her back. 

Boba noticed that the message prompt was still open on his holopad.  He tapped out: 

BF: The Modifier’s contact came through; treatment seems to be working  

Boba watched the return message dots blink for a while, as if Din was tapping out a long message. A short time later, a message pinged through: 

DD: good to hear 

Boba smirked.  That took a long time to come up with, Djarin.   Warmed by the spotchka, and now by themselves, Boba put his arm around Fennec’s shoulders.  She smiled and snuggled against him, and they watched the stars. 

The Modifier suggested that they do the injections in Marathel’s room, so that she could go to sleep comfortably after.  She left the men in the corridor while she changed back into the soft clothing she’d woken up in earlier and got into her bed.  As she let the men in, she carefully moved the mug Cobb had brought her as far out of reach as possible, which he found amusing.  The Modifier suggested she lay on her other side for the injections; he was concerned about damage to her skin.  Marathel complied, but now she had her back to Cobb. 

Cobb cleared his throat and said, “If you don’t object … I could sit on the bed next to you.” 

Marathel thought she might object; the idea made her stomach flutter, and it wasn’t just the spotchka making it do so.  She thought about it and decided that Cobb certainly meant no harm to her; he might be a bit too handsy with her, but he wasn’t about to harm her.  She agreed, and Cobb kicked off his boots and settled on the bed next to her — on top of the blankets — sitting up against the headboard as she lay on her side.  The Modifier administered the first injection, and Marathel felt the instant cold sensation, and then the nervous-twitchy feeling through her limbs as the injection coursed through her system.  She whimpered; Cobb sought out her hand and held it gently, his large thumb stroking the back of her hand.   

“Doing okay?” he asked. 

“It stings more this time.”  She drew in her breath with a hiss; it did sting much more, as if the spiky pebbles from before had transformed into long-spined sea urchins.  Marathel thought if she stared at her arm long enough, she would be able to see the spines distend and pierce through her flesh.   

Cobb was watching her face and grew concerned, as her breathing grew shallow and fast.  “Marathel?  Honey?  You still there?”  Marathel did not answer, and he could see she had broken out in a cold sweat.  The Modifier did not seem too concerned, but Cobb moved down on the bed, so he was lying on his side next to her, much like Din on her bed tick in her open-sided hut.   

He held both of her hands in his, and her eyes looked unfocused and confused.  “Bounty Hunter?” 

Cobb reached out and pushed a lock of hair off her face.  “No, honey, sorry, it’s just me.” 

Marathel took a deep breath.  “Sorry, I lost myself for a moment.”  She looked into his eyes.  “It’s better now.” 

Cobb smiled at her.  “Good.  Just keep breathing, hang in there.” 

Marathel smiled wanly.  The next two injections were given with little to no reaction at all from Marathel.  The Modifier, pleased by her lack of reaction, said, “You’ll probably feel like sleeping for the next couple of days, Marathel.  If you could leave your door unlocked, I’d like to check on you a few times while you rest.” 

Marathel nodded.  “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go,” she said, and Cobb laughed. 

The Modifier left, but Cobb remained where he was, gently stroking her knuckles with his thumbs.  “I’ll just stay until you’re fully asleep, Marathel, then I’ll leave you alone.”  Marathel, her eyes closed, nodded again.  “But you can always shout if you need something, right?  Just no mug-throwing, that’s all I ask.”  Marathel smiled slightly; she was already almost fully asleep.  He leaned over and lightly kissed her cheek.  “That’s from Grogu,” he said.  Marathel did not respond, but carried on her soft breathing.  Before he could lose his nerve, Cobb leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth; he thought he detected the slightest of response from her lips kissing him back.  “That’s from the Bounty Hunter,” he whispered, telling himself it wasn’t a lie.  Cobb watched her sleep until his own eyelids grew heavy, and then he carefully climbed out of her bed.  He grabbed his boots, and gently pulled the blanket over her ear, as he’d seen her in her sleep earlier, and left her room. 

Next chapter ->

[abbonation]

GUYYYYYYS I GOT A NEW DRAWING TABLET!!! Consider operation NSFW Mando & Fat Reader art inbound🫡!!

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡His High｡⋆.

Kylo Ren x plus size reader

His Choice Masterlist

Riding the high of his new fix, Kylo shows her the beauty of her subservience

Chapter Warnings: dubcon, smut, size kink, d/s dynamics, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), public sex, fingering, ocean sex (don't do this- the chaffing isn't worth it)

WC: 2.2k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The First Order was just that, an order. Routine was drilled into them from the moment they were conscripted. Everyone had their place and every job had its responsibilities. The patrol ships left at the same time every day, returning several hours later only for another batch to be sent out when the hall lights began to dim. As a lone TIE fighter streaked by the large window, Y/N stretched her limbs, it was time for her lunch.

Meals were delivered three times a day to the sith lord’s chambers. Sometimes there would be enough for two but most of the meals were only for one.

Y/N sat up against the headboard of the huge bed she was chained to as she heard footsteps make their way down the hall. She had gotten good at listening to the sounds outside those dark walls that surrounded her, she had almost worked out which stormtroopers would bring her food each day just by how loudly they marched. 

Yet when the doors opened, her master was the one that entered. Immediately, she rocked to her knees, hands clasped in her lap, just as he liked her. “Up.” He said, his voice clipped. Her head tilted in confusion.

“Sir?” His helmet turned to her, the blank expression giving her no answers as to what he wished. A sigh bled out from his respirator before he pulled something out from under his cloak and threw it to her. Two small light brown candles landed on the bed a few inches from her knees.

“Put those on and come with me.” With a flick of his wrist, the silver chain attached to her collar fell away, leaving her free. “Now.” He ordered and Y/N sprang up. Her hands shook with nerves as she slipped them onto her feet. She stood from the bed on uncertain legs and almost crashed into the much taller man. He caught her with a gloved hand, steadying her easily. His touch lingered for only a moment before he dropped her arm like it had burned him and turned back to the open door.

“Keep up.” And then he walked off. She scrambled forward, following behind as closely as she could despite how quickly he was walking. They passed throngs of stormtroopers, each one saluting him as they walked by. She could feel their gazes on her but she kept her eyes locked forward on her master’s wide back.

Excitement stirred in her gut, having only seen the med bay and Kylo’s rooms, this was an overload for the young woman. There was a tinge of fear in the back of her mind, a warning to keep her guard up for what the sith may have planned. Her brain reminded her that even if he had been kind to her so far, he was still a dangerous man.

Soon they approached another set of blast doors and before Y/N could even wonder what was behind them, they slid open with a series of mechanical thuds.

The breath was knocked from Y/N’s lungs as they stepped into the hanger bay. Kylo continued to walk but she was rooted to the spot. She had never seen anything like this in her life. It was so much more advanced than the sand gliders of her youth and even bigger than all the villages on her planet combined. 

There was only one ship docked in the hangar but it could easily hold 10 within its hexagonal walls. Huge lights were built into each vertical metal panel that lined the bay. Y/N could only just make out the blue shimmer of the forcefield at the mouth of the hanger. It was filled with robots bustling around, doing repairs and menial jobs, smoothly moving away from the pair’s path. 

“Girl.” The modulated voice broke her from her amazement. Her eyes snapped back to attention, finally catching sight of the huge black TIE fighter standing right behind her master’s hulking form. “Come along, the journey will be long so we need to leave quickly.” She stumbled over her feet as he strode towards the ship.

The cockpit opened smoothly as they approached, revealing the dark interior which included only one jump seat. Her brows scrunched. “There’s only one seat, master.”

“Yes.” He replied before he swung himself over the control panel, settling into the seat. She was confused only for a moment as Kylo reached a long arm out to her. “Take it.” His black leather gloves were surprisingly warm as she fit her smaller hand into his much larger one, the material creaking softly with the curling of his fingers. 

Then, he pulled. Suddenly, Y/N found herself in the air and moving quickly towards the hull of the ship. Just as she let out a yelp, her ass was planted on two very firm thighs, her back pressed against Kylo’s front. He grunted under his helmet and readjusted the girl so she wasn’t sitting right on his cock. Warmth crawled up her neck at the sheer power he had just exhibited, and she was ashamed to admit but it set her veins alight.

He pulled his hand from her grasp (she hadn’t realised that she was still holding him) and pressed several buttons on the display before them. The red glass shield came down, shutting them in as the huge engine came to life. Y/N jumped back into her master in surprise, causing him to let out an almost inaudible chuckle. “I guess you haven’t been in one of these before.” She shook her head and looked back at him.

“I hadn’t even been in a star cruiser until the day you selected me.” He hummed with a measure of self-satisfaction, winding an arm around her soft tummy as he took the controls with his other hand.

“Hold on tight then.” She watched as the world around them seemed to spin, the view of the dark walls quickly replaced by the vast expanse of the ‘verse. Her fingers tightened on his forearm, her eyes almost doubling in size. The fighter silently glided out of the Star Destroyer, giving her a good look at the truly massive ship she had called home for the past couple weeks. 

Using her distraction, Kylo lifted her wide hips from his lap, giving the soft flesh there a tap- a silent signal for her to remain in that position which she obeyed blindly. Her pale pink dress lifted over her plump thighs, the hem coming to rest right below her hips. A hand slipped between them and cupped the roundness of her cunt. “Keep your eyes forward.” He murmured as a thick finger prodded at her entrance.

“Press that button by your knee.” His middle finger, still covered by his glove, sunk into her warmth, uninhibited by any undergarments as she had been barred from wearing them. She bit back a moan as she reached for the button, letting the pad of his finger hit the place inside her that set her body ablaze. She did as he asked and suddenly the stars warped, growing longer and longer until they were only streaks of white above their heads. 

Another finger breached her before quickly being followed by a third. Y/N’s back arched against her master, pushing them even deeper inside of her. Just as her stomach began to tighten with pleasure, he pulled away. She whined, earning a firm squeeze of her plump lower stomach. “Don’t complain.” He snipped.

She felt his trousers shift under her naked thighs before the blunt tip of his cock was suddenly resting between her folds. “Sit.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as she did what he commanded, each inch of his thick cock, brutally stretching her cunt to its very limit, as it did every time he took her.

She was gasping for breath as she finally took him to the hilt, her hands desperately clawing at his forearm. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her, the fat head resting against her cervix, sending shots of pleasure through her. 

Taking in as deep of a breath as she could, Y/N attempted to rock forward but was quickly yanked back and forced to be still. “Keep me warm on our journey. You may rest if you wish but do not finish.” With a great effort, she forced herself to relax into him, tucking her head just below his chin and shutting her eyes. She let the hum of the engine and the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

——————

“We’re here.” Warm salty air washed over her, stirring her from her light slumber. Calloused fingers traced up the curve of her arm, encouraging her to open her eyes. And when she did, she swore she was still dreaming.

There was blue as far as the eye could see, even blending into the clear sky and blurring the horizon. “It’s beautiful.” She breathed, sitting up as if it would allow her to absorb even more of the landscape. A deep chuckle from behind her shook her body softly.

“Why don’t you get a closer look then.” Kylo delicately lifted her from his lap, letting his half-hard cock slip from her cunt. They both hissed at the sensation but Y/N’s attention didn’t remain on that for long. She yanked her dress back down over her thighs and leaned over the cockpit edge, vaguely wondering if she could jump. Before she could decide, Kylo took her by the waist and lowered her down until her toes were just barely touching the white sand beneath the ship.

She smiled broadly as the tips of her sandals disappeared into the warm sand. He released her gently, half-expecting her to immediately run off but instead she looked back to him, waiting for something. “Go on. But not too far.” He warned and in return, he received a blinding smile, one he had never seen before.

Kicking off her sandals, Y/N ran to the water. She only stopped when the clear blue was up to her hips, soaking her dress through. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut, letting the calm waves wash over her. 

With a sigh, Kylo tucked himself away then shed his helmet and cape, leaving them in a pile with his gloves, before he himself swung out of the cockpit and onto the sand. She paid him no mind as he approached.

This was a truly beautiful planet, one of the many moons of Naboo but so under-utilised considering its vast supply of spice hidden just under its crust. He had discovered it years ago when attempting to track Luke Skywalker and decided to keep it a secret. A selfish piece of him wanted to keep its beauty to himself, to have a sanctuary from his own darkness. He had no doubt that the Supreme Leader knew of this place as well but for now, he would savour his little secret. 

He laid his large hands upon her hips as he curled around her back. “You have been very good. You have not disobeyed me, you have not tried to run. I thought it high time you were rewarded.” As he spoke, one hand dipped lower, disappearing under the water to grasp her thigh and then travel upwards beneath her dress.

He smirked when her breath hitched. “Th-thank you master.” She stammered out, rolling her hips downwards, chasing his touch. He rewarded her with a wet kiss to the crook of her neck. 

“Good girl.” He purred as he finally touched her neglected pearl. “Now let me reward you.” He rolled the sensitive bud between his two fingers as his other hand cupped one of her heavy breasts, his thumb finding her nipple immediately. 

Pleasure rippled through her as she succumbed to his touch. She was already on edge from having him inside her for so long with no relief. And with the feel of the warm water around her lower half and the solid mass of her master behind her, she was ready to fall. His hand shifted from her clit, slipping two of his fingers inside of her as the heel of his palm reconnected with the small bundle of nerves.

“This is what you can receive when you obey me. I will lavish you with gifts and treasures.” He took her earlobe between his teeth, causing her to shutter and clamp down on his fingers. “And ecstasy you could only dream of.” Her moans were carried out with the waves, going higher and higher with each shuddering breath. She clutched at his arms as the knot in her stomach tightened dangerously.

“Let go, give me your pleasure my pet.” She shattered in his arms with a howl, her end consuming her like the ocean that surrounded them. Kylo caught her swiftly as she sagged, her knees buckling. Carrying her bridal style, he walked from the waters to a shady grove a few metres away.

She was still struggling to breathe as he laid her upon the grass, quickly laying down next to her right after. There was no need for words as they each soaked up the perfectly warm rays of the sun, basking in the calmness of the moon. Yet all too soon, Y/N sat up with a smile.

“Let me take care of you too, master.” She rolled between his legs with a smirk and pulled his trousers down his muscular thighs. A groan slipped through his lips as she took him into her mouth, determined to serve her master thoroughly.

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His Choice

@the-queen-of-sorrows

[nerdieforpedro]

I accept any and all Poe porn. ☺️🖤🖤🖤💕

Moon lit Serenades

A/N: Dedicated to the reader, may you find happiness. I am so nervous for TROS, I saw a rumor that Poe dies and lost it. That plus the fact that there is literally no Plus Sized ReaderxPoe community? I had to remedy that. This is porn.

Warnings: This is porn. Serious smut from pretty much start to finish. Please enjoy.

Summary: Poe seeks comfort after a particularly hard mission in the only way he knows how. A Poe x Plus Sized Reader story

I am a moth, who just wants to share your light.

I’m just an insect, trying to get out of the night.

I only stick with you, because there are no other’s.

You we’re all I need.

I’m in the middle of your picture.

Lying in the reeds- Radiohead 

Keep reading

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

DREW STARKEY & CHARACTERS MASTERLIST ౨ৎ

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗:

𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 - ☀︎ 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 - ☾ 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 - ☆

A/N: finally created a masterlist for drew & rafe (and other characters if requested), so i hope you enjoy !! fics are posted in chronological order from oldest to newest (top to bottom), series will be updated when i begin to do any !!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐘:

ONE-SHOTS —

the prank that backfired (sort of?) ☀︎

drew starkey x fem!reader

reader and drew decide to play a prank on the obx cast for her youtube channel. they do the “asking to have another girl over” prank, which results in a very angry obx cast who are out to get drew.

i think he knows ☀︎ ☆

drew starkey x fem!craig!reader (daniel craig’s daughter)

daniel craig introduces his daughter to his co-star drew starkey at the after party for the ‘golden globes,’ and they do more than just hit it off.

you were, faking? ☀︎

drew starkey x gn!reader x obx!cast

the unspoken prank war between the obx cast finds a new pair in the lead when Y/N and Drew decide to pull a fainting prank.

head over heels ☀︎

drew starkey x fem!reader

in which drew starkey is head over heels in love with his girlfriend, y/n.

this was a prank? ☀︎

drew starkey x fem!reader

y/n pulls her family into a trending prank where you pretend to embarrass your partner in front of your family…i wonder how drew reacts?

not your bro ☀︎

drew starkey x fem!reader

y/n decides to use some ‘unusual’ nicknames for her boyfriend, drew, except it drives him insane.

my masterpiece ☀︎ ☆

drew starkey x plus size!fem!reader

after drew catches his girlfriend crying about the hate she’s receiving, he decides to show her exactly how much he loves her.

waiting ain’t easy ☾ ☀︎

drew starkey x fem!reader

after 6 gruelling months of long distance with drew, y/n decides to surprise him on set.

bigger than the whole sky ☾ ☀︎

drew starkey x fem!reader

while filming an emotional scene, y/n receives devastating news about her mum, leading to a heartbreaking breakdown on set as her boyfriend drew and their co-stars comfort her.

SERIES —

nothing to see here yet…

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍:

ONE-SHOTS —

i’m not him ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

in which rafe snaps at reader during a heated argument and she flinches, her past trauma resurfacing. rafe breaking the main promise he made to her: to not be anything like her father.

all mine ☆

rafe cameron x fem!reader

rafe has to give his bratty gf an attitude adjustment. maybe a little teasing should work?

i get you ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

rafe and weird!reader are one of the strangest couples in the obx. nobody has any clue how the cunning and cruel rafe cameron is dating the epitome of sunshine. but rafe just gets her, and she just gets him.

animals ☾ ☆ (potential series !!)

rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

in a world where obsession blurs the lines between love and hate, y/b and rafe cameron are locked in a toxic game of desire and dominance. as the tension between them reaches a boiling point, rafe’s possessiveness and y/n’s defiance threaten to expose the truth—some animals can’t resist the hunt.

mess it up ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

rafe realises he’s been neglecting his girlfriend to hang out with the guys, so he pulls out all the stops to make it up to her.

someone to stay ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

when rafe’s girlfriend doesn’t show up to his safe house during a hurricane he fears the worst, and wonders if he’ll get to tell her that he loves her.

linger ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a sweet, introverted bartender and obx’s very own troubled golden boy share an unspoken connection—until jealousy, misunderstandings, and unspoken feelings finally push them to confront the truth.

crazy ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

y/n knows exactly what makes rafe angry, and after a fight she uses it to her advantage.

million reasons ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

rafe cameron’s fear of love/commitment pushes y/n away—until he realises losing her is far worse. desperate, he finally confesses his feelings and gives her a reason to stay.

him & i ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

rafe confronts the pogues after they try to get his girl to turn on him—big mistake.

subtle is a strong word ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

rafe uses a tiktok trend to his advantage.

block me out ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

haunted by her ex’s cruel words, y/n wishes she could block herself out. but rafe sees her differently—like she hung the stars in the sky.

fear of water ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

after an abusive past, y/n struggles with toxic communication in her relationship with rafe. when fear pushes her away, love teaches her to stay.

blowing smoke ☾

rafe cameron x fem!reader

after rafe betrays her trust, y/n exposes his lies at a party, humiliating him in front of everyone—and walking away without looking back.

begin again ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a revenge plan turns complicated when y/n falls for rafe cameron—the one person she was never supposed to love. but was it ever just revenge?

favourite crime ☾ ☀︎

rafe cameron x fem!reader

trapped in a deadly chase through the desert, y/n kills to save rafe—forcing them to confront love, heartbreak, and the ghosts of their past.

SERIES —

nothing to see here yet…

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷: Nagi never made a big deal about the holidays, not something he had partaken in, but there was one tradition you had started with him that he could never resist. I mean what were the holidays without some sweets after all?

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻: Seishiro Nagi (Blue Lock)

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.3k

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼: Nagi x Fem!Reader 𝓒𝔀: Minor food play (icing), praise, use of petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, marking, written with plus sized reader in mind.

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: Happy Holidays loves! This is my entry for the @pixelcafe-network's Secret Santa event as a present for @nagis-wife. The way I was so EXCITED to write this for you bambina I tried real hard to keep it a secret ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა Honestly Nagi was so much fun to write for and I hope you enjoy my love!

Nagi catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, the subtle way your tongue pokes between plump lips, a total look of concentration decorating your features as you pipe a line of icing on the border of your gingerbread house. Nagi’s parents had taken the “hands off” approach to parenting, meaning the holidays were often not something to be made a big deal of with their constant travel. Christmas had not really been anything more than some presents arriving at the doorstep of his apartment. So even into his late twenties, as he was now, he had never made the most of the holiday. The most he got was a paper star that sat on top of his cactus with some string lights.

You, yourself, hadn’t been the most festive person in the world. But the idea of Nagi having never engaged in any holiday festivities pulled on even your grinchy heartstrings. Your family may not have had much, and maybe the most you had to look forward to on Christmas was the tradition of your mom’s pancakes, but you wouldn’t give that up for all the presents in the world knowing what you could have been missing out on. So here you both sat, fully decked out in festive attire at your dining room table decorating gingerbread houses. It had become a tradition for you both throughout the years of your relationship, a little competition of sorts. Feeding into his ego to have a friendly wager to who could make the best house.

It was almost comical to look over at your boyfriend, his white hair fully pulling together the Santa suit you insisted he wore for the evening. While you looked at him with mirth, he was looking at you with a hunger for more than the sweets scattered across the table. The short elf costume dress hugged your curves in a way he couldn’t simply disregard. His mouth all but watering as he let his gaze slide down your form. The elastic of the red and green striped thigh high socks that you wore rested against plump thighs, making the flesh at the top more accentuated in such a way it made his heart race in his chest.

“Shiro? You’ve barely touched your house, at this rate I’m gonna win!”

Your voice held a teasing edge, completely unaware of the war waging in Nagi’s mind, his self control hanging by a thread. His cookie house was barren in comparison to yours, him too distracted by the way your finger slipped past plush lips to clean some icing that had dripped onto your skin. His daze broken by the sound of your phone blaring with an alarm, notifying you both that the gingerbread men that had been baking, the final touches to your houses, were ready to be pulled from the oven. Nagi watched with rapt attention as you sauntered your way to the oven, your outfit swaying with your movements, lis tongue slipping past his lips to moisten the dry skin as you bent over to retrieve the cookies from the oven. Eyes locked on the subtle lift of your skirt revealing more of the delicate skin of your thighs, the same ones if he really focused, he could see the faded markings between them that his mouth had left a few nights prior.

As if on autopiliot, Nagi stood to his feet, stalking behind you in the kitchen. You couldn't help but notice the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to drink in every curve of your body.

"Those do smell amazing," he said, stepping closer to you. He leaned in behind you as if all at once, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. "Almost as amazing as you look right now."

His hand brushed against your lower back, sending a shiver down your spine. You straightened up, turning to face him with a blush on your cheeks.

"Seishiro, they’re hot you cant have them they’re still hot.”  you said, playfully swatting at his chest. "Now, let's decorate these babies. I have sprinkles and everything."

You said, a weak attempt to salvage your evening, knowing by the way his tone had dipped that the cookies were the last thing on his mind, You set the cookies on the counter with shaky hands as Nagi fully moved in behind you, his body pressed against your back effectively pinning you to the counter. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the strength in his arms as he reached around you to grab the icing bag that rested on the counter.

"I have a better idea," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Why don't we decorate each other instead?"

His hands slid up your sides, his fingers teasing the hem of your skirt. His large hands rested on your hips, turning you to face him. You gasped, your heart racing as you turned in his arms to face him. Your eyes met, the air between you charged with tension and unspoken desires. "Seishiro..." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing, Shiro?" He smiled at your response, lips curling in satisfaction at the tremble in your voice,  his eyes dark with desire.

"What do you want me to do, princess?"

His hands reached up as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he leaned in closer, his lips just inches from yours. He can see it, the way your eyes drop to his lips. Can hear the way you swallow heavily in anticipation before he closed the gap separating you both. Nagi’s lips claim your own, his hand curling around the base of your neck to pull you even deeper into the embrace. The kiss was filled with need, desperation to feel your skin against his own. But this wasn’t a primal need, he felt it down to his molecules. He wanted you, needed to keep his hands on you, whether that was just in a simple holding of your hand or something more he couldn’t care less he just knew that he didn’t want you to slip through his fingers. Didn’t want to risk not feeling the euphoria of kissing your lips. It almost pulls a whine from his lips when you pull away, resisting the urge to surge forwards once more.

Hie eyes stared into your own as they fluttered open once more, hands slipping beneath your knees to perch you on the countertop, reaching behind you to grasp the bag of icing A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he used the other hand to guide your head back, exposing the delicate skin of o=your neck to him, piping a trail of icing along the column of your throat. Dipping his head down, he wastes no time letting his tongue follow the work he had just created. The sweetness of the icing combined with the taste of your skin had him rolling his eyes back. The feeling of your hand pushing the hat from his head as your fingers entangle themselves in his hair. Graning against your skin, Nagi laps up all of the sweetness that once coated your skin, trailing his lips down further, his free hand curling against the hem of the skimpy dress that concealed your breasts form the descent of his hungry mouth. Tugging down the fabric in one swift motion, he groans, pulling back to admire the exposed skin of your chest.

“So fucking beautiful, bunny.” He growls, eyes devouring you as lust swims in their stormy depths. He relishes in the way your nipples pebble due to the exposure to the cold air.

“And all fucking mine.”

As if to emphasize the sincerity of his words he brings the icing bag to the skin that lay right above your breasts, sloppily writing out the kanji of his name before tucking down and capturing a perked bud between his lips, tongue lolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other nipple the same treatment. Hands trailing from your ankles to your knees, forcing your legs apart further under his strong grip. He groans into your chest as he feels your hands on him hand making a trail up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the hood of your clit before rubbing slow agonizing circles against your drenched center. His lips pull from the swell of your breast kissing up a trail to your ear, making no move to touch the icing that marked your skin.

“I was gonna be a nice boyfriend and get you all prepped to take my cock, bunny.”

He groans, pushing your panties to the side and sliding two fingers past your entrance with ease, curling them in just the way he knows would have your back arching. “But with the way this greedy cunt is sucking in my fingers I don’t think I’ll even need to do that will I baby?”

His chuckle is deep and almost cruel in your ear, Nagi wasted no time pushing the band of his sweats down to his thighs, cock springing against his abdomen, twitching at your following words. He leans forward palm resting against the counter as he cages in your form. Using is other to grab his cock at the base, rubbing it past your slickened folds, swiping the mushroom tip up your slit collecting your wetness, not that he needed the aid to slide in, being sure to nudge your clit with each pass. Having had enough of his own teasing he slides into your opening. Head falling back deep groan stumbling from his lips With one roll of his hips he was buried to the base feeling your walls suffocating all of him, head falling to the crook of your neck as he groans.

“Fuck princess, she’s sucking me in so good, god this cunt was made for me wasn’t it baby?”

Now that he was sunk completely in hie gives an experimental snap of his hips, the resulting pleas falling from your lips guiding each motion of his hips. He picks up the pace, angling his hips just right to nudge your clit with his pelvis. His hands hook under your knees, pulling you toward him until your ass was hanging off the counter so he could lay you back. Taking advantage of the new angle, Nagi presses your knees to your chest. The deeper angle also allowing you to be even more exposed to his hungry gaze, eyes locked on where you both met. Mesmerized by the mouth watering sight of his cock disappearing inside of you with each passing surge of his hips. Groaning a long growl of your name and a slew of profanities as the sound skin against skin and the squelching wetness of your cunt fills the kitchen.

“You hear that princess? How wet my cunt is for me angel?”

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed, though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so, stealing any response you could have formed from your lips. He removes one hand from your knee, thumb swiping some of the icing that dripped down your skin. Once coated, slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit instinctually. His eyes roll back as you look up into his own, making a show of cleaning the digit and effectively coating it in your saliva.

“So sweet Sei, fuck. Need more daddy please.”

The desperation laid in your tone is more than enough to inspire his movements, especially when spoken around the skin of his digit still lodged between your lips. He slides the finger from your mouth, using the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. Nagi out a loud growl of your name as the drag of your nails incorporated pain into the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. Gon on princess, come for me wanna feel those pretty walls clamp down on my cock.

“Fuck, bunny, just like that princess… Go ahead, come for me angel, gonna fill this pussy so good baby, gonna have you dripping. Go on baby fucking.. come. for. me.”

He accentuates every word with a deep harsh snap of his hips. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him pressing a long loving kiss to your lips. He grips your thighs in strong hands, carrying you with ease back to the couch, resting you against him. Fingers carding through your hair as you rest against his chest, pressing a loving kiss to the dip of your temple.

“So, did I win our little decorating contest, or do you think we need a rematch?”

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics & @/cafekitsune.

[plussizedreader]

Haven’t forgot about this account! I’ve been working on requests in between work and the holidays! I’ll be getting one or two out hopefully tomorrow and Friday! But send in more if y’all would!

[minervadashwood]

I love every part of this little series!

Just Right (Part 2 of 2)

Thank you for your patience with this one, my lovelies. I got most of it done and decided to scrap about 70% of it and start again. I feel really happy with where it landed, and I hope you do too.

Just Right Pt. 2

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Din Djarin x curvy f!reader

Warnings: excessive amounts of body worship, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, PinV sex (no protection, but she's covered ok), praise, usage of good girl, description of a curvy girl's body (but it's really pretty vague), self-doubt associated with weight issues, Din is a big boy, some tum love, lots and lots of kissing. They broke the seal on that and they're never gonna stop.

**

Part 1 • Masterlist

**

“It’s not, you know,” he says as he examines the ankle that is very clearly starting to swell.

“It’s not what?” you ask tentatively. “It’s not sprained?”

“It’s not too much. You’re not too much.” He looks up at you, sighing. “You’re just right.”

Your breath catches and you think your heart might have just fallen down into your stomach. The silence stretches between you before you respond in the smallest voice.

“Really?”

He sits down next to you on your cot, taking one of your hands in his. You look up at him and find him inches from your face. He leans in slowly and presses the softest kiss to your lips.

“Yes, really. Will you let me show you?”

~~~~

“Yes.”

Your voice is soft with emotion and disbelief, but your conviction is strong. You want him to push all of the negative thoughts from your head, the ones that have been rooted in there for more years than you care to think about. You want this, but the butterflies in your stomach are starting to feel like lead.

Din smiles at you and you lose your breath; he’s so handsome it almost hurts. He leans back in to kiss you, a little more forcefully this time. You smile into the kiss and you feel like your insides are starting to do backflips. However, before you have a chance to deepen the kiss, he pulls back.

“I need to fix you up first, okay? Gotta grab the bacta,” he says resolutely, returning with the little medkit before you can even process that he’s left. He crouches in front of you on one knee, slowly pulling off your boot and ripping the leg of your ruined pants up so that he can better access your ankle, now blossoming a sickly purple. He lifts your leg so that it can rest on his bent thigh and gets to work. Opening the small tube of bacta cream with a flick, he pushes some out onto his finger before delicately rubbing it into your skin.

“Din, you don’t need to waste the bacta on me,” you say, trying to contain a wince as he presses against your injury. He mutters an apology before going in with the thumbs of both hands, carefully massaging your ankle and foot before moving up your shin.

He leans down to press a kiss to your knee before looking up at you with a serious gaze. You reach out and stroke his cheek with one hand, and he immediately closes his eyes and leans into your touch. Your brain is firing in all directions, eyes bouncing from one gorgeous feature to the next, and the urge to kiss him again is overwhelming.

He opens his eyes to look at you. “I’m going to take care of you, and this is part of it,” he says quietly.

He gives a nod of approval as you cautiously roll your ankle around, the bacta cream already starting to work. Din stands and starts to pull off the rest of his armor, stacking it neatly on the cot. You watch, mesmerized and silent as you watch his strong hands expertly remove the beskar. You’ve never seen him without at least some of his armor on, and to watch him bare himself for you like this is one of the most intimate things you’ve ever witnessed.

Your breath quickens when he kneels back down in front of you. He pulls at the edge of your torn tunic between two fingers, directing your attention to where his hand rests on your thigh.

“I think it’s time to get you cleaned up. Is that okay?”

You nod, and he gives a small smile of relief as he moves to take off your other shoe before standing and offering his hand. You gladly take it and awkwardly stand up without putting too much weight on your leg. Din does most of the work, pulling you up easily.

“Oof, sorry,” you say with a nervous giggle as you stumble into him. He steadies you before leaning down for another kiss, gentle and tentative again. Like he’s worried he’s going to scare you. You stand on your tiptoes- not to reach him, but because the metal of the ship is ice cold under your bare feet. Din breaks the kiss when he notices you uneasy.

“Ankle?” he asks, looking down with worry.

“No, just cold floor. Sorry,” you mutter.

Din takes one look at you and swoops down, again picking you up bridal-style. You make a surprised sound, and that panic swiftly overtakes you again. Din walks you out of the room and down the long hall to the ‘fresher. You have one arm around his shoulder for support but are almost arching out of his arms, as though you could somehow hold up your own weight. Make it easier on him. Even though you know it’s ludicrous in your mind, you can’t help it.

After a couple of moments of you fidgeting in his strong arms, your mind screaming with embarrassment, Din stops dead in his tracks and looks at you.

“Hey. What are you doing?” he asks without a hint of anger in his voice. He sees the wild look creeping back into your eyes, the frown etched deep into your face. Your brows are pulled tight with concern and he resists the very strong urge to kiss away the tension. The feelings from before - too much, too much, too much - are on repeat like a drumbeat in your head.

“I-I just…shit, sorry,” you whisper under your breath, trying not to cry.

“Take a breath, mesh’la, and stop apologizing. Look at me,” he commands gently. You stare at him, biting your lip.

“You’re worried about me carrying you,” he says, matter-of-fact.

You nod.

“Do I look like I’m struggling?”

You slowly shake your head. No.

“Do you think I can’t handle it?”

Again, you shake your head. When you first started working with Din he would come back from his jobs and tell you about what happened (the parts he could, anyway), and you thought he was exaggerating. Until you saw it yourself, him throwing around large men like they weighed nothing. Standing here in this quiet hallway he isn’t shaking or shifting his weight, nothing to suggest that he is uncomfortable.

“Do you think I would let anything bad happen to you?” You catch the warble in his voice.

Your head doesn’t move this time, but your eyes well up with fresh tears. Din would never let anything happen to you if he could help it.

“I’ve got you.” It’s a promise, a reminder, and a prayer all in one breath. He needs to hear it just as much as you do.

You relax into his arms as Din starts walking again. In the ‘fresher, he sets you down easily against the sink and turns on the shower to warm up. He kneels down to help you peel off your pants, hands caressing the back of your legs as he does so. He doesn’t let his hands travel under your tunic like he aches to do, standing to his full height instead to look at you. He seems almost… nervous, you think to yourself. You let your hands rest on his chest as you try to make sense of the look in his eyes. His impossibly dark eyes hold so many unspoken feelings, so many words that he should have said before he thought he had lost you. But there’s something else that you see in his eyes too.

You see the look of someone whose resolve is about to break like a rubber band that’s stretched far beyond its limit.

His hands skim up your sides and he takes a deep breath. He’s about to open his mouth to ask the question you know is coming, but you want to be the one to ask him.

“Will you help me, Din?”

His mouth is on yours in a second, hands tangling in your hair as he presses into you against where you lean against the sink. You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry at how good he feels as he trails kisses down your neck, and you settle for smiling as you throw your arms around his shoulders.

Din makes quick but gentle work of your dusty tunic, lifting it over your head after you give a nod telling him that it’s ok. It lands on the floor and is quickly joined by his clothes, leaving you both in your underclothes. You pull off your breast band and resist the urge to cross your arms across your stomach or cover yourself in any way, but you do take in a shaky breath as Din’s hands come to rest on your hips.

“Good?” he asks.

You nod, and Din lets his fingers dip under the waistband of your panties before dragging them down your legs and tossing them aside. He pulls his own dark green compression shorts down and kicks them off before gently directing you towards the small shower. You step under the warm water first, letting the spray run down your body. Din steps in behind you, his chest pressed against your back, as he closes the door behind him.

He makes a noise of disapproval, and for a moment you’re concerned. He must see your body tense because he kisses you on your right shoulder before telling you, “You have some cuts back here from when you landed on your back. They’re not bad, but I need to clean them.”

You hand him the soap, letting your chin rest against your shoulder as he starts to gently wash you. No one has ever done anything like this for you, and you imagine that no one has done it for Din either. You make a mental note to return the favor next time (if there’s a next time), but your brain sputters as Din works his hands lower and lower down your back.

His hands kneed at the base of your spine, which he has noticed you rubbing more than once lately. You moan and lean back into his touch, and over the spray of the water you can hear him curse under his breath.

“Fuck.”

You feel your heart start to beat faster, quickening with every passing second. The air feels thick, but you don’t think it’s from the steam of the hot water. Just when you think your heart might beat out of your chest, Din leans up, crowding you against the wall.

Against the shell of your ear, he says, “Turn around.”

You comply and throw yourself against him the second you turn. Both your hands and Din’s are everywhere, pulling each other impossible closer and grazing along hot, wet skin. His mouth is fused to yours, urgently exploring with his tongue. He’s a tiny bit clumsy but so are you, and somewhere in the back of your mind you register that both of you probably don’t have a ton of experience in this area. That makes you feel a little bit more relaxed.

Din breaks away from you so that he can lather his hands up again and start to wash the front of your body, reverent hands treating you with delicate care. That little voice starts to whisper in your mind again that you should feel ashamed, but it quickly shuts up when Din kneels down and starts to kiss along your full breasts. He takes your nipple into his mouth and alternates between sucking and kissing, and you tangle your hands in his hair.

“Shit, Din. Oh, stars that feels so good.” It occurs to you at this moment that he doesn’t care in the slightest if your tits have stretch marks or your nipples point downwards, he is clearly loving the fullness of your breast in his mouth. If the way he is kissing a path down your tummy is any indication, he doesn’t care about the shimmery stretch marks found there either or the curves he is encountering.

He reaches your mound and drops kisses there also, before lifting your leg with the ankle injury to rest over his shoulder. He sucks your inner thigh, wet with water and your own arousal, before looking up at you. You guide his face to your aching sex and immediately gasp at how good his tongue feels on you. He’s dragging his tongue between your folds, immediately drunk on the taste and the breathy moans you’re letting out.

You don’t know how long you stand there, water beating down on your back, before his tongue lapping at your clit makes your belly tense up. “There, oh god, right there, right there,” you beg as electricity jolts up your spine and you arch against his greedy mouth.

Din keeps his mouth on you as you shudder and shiver against him, partially from the aftershocks of your orgasm and partially from the water that has started to go cold. Din helps you slide your leg off of him before standing up and turning off the water. You pull him in for a lazy, blissed-out kiss and moan at how he tastes of you.

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s get you dry. Then I can really take care of you,” Din says as he reaches for a big fluffy towel, one that had shown up after you you admired them in a market one day. He wraps the towel around you and starts drying you off.

“You haven’t taken care of me enough?” you ask with a dreamy smile. Din shakes his head.

“Not even close.” He pulls you against him, towel still wrapped around you, and you feel the evidence of his desire pressing against your belly. Din quickly takes the towel and dries himself off as much as possible between the hungry kisses the two of you are sharing. When he picks you up this time, you happily let him lift you so that your legs are around his waist and you can keep kissing him. There’s no hesitation, no feelings of insecurity or fear or doubt.

Din walks back towards his room, which has a bigger bed, but stops halfway. He pushes you into the wall, trapping you between it and his body with your legs still firmly wrapped around his waist. His hands dig into the flesh of your ass and you can feel him rutting up against you as his hips start to move.

“Can’t wait, I-I need you,” he chokes out. You cradle his face in your hands and shake your head.

“Bed, baby.”

Din grunts out in frustration and walks back to his room as quickly as he can, getting completely distracted and burying his face in your cleavage as he goes.

When he puts you down on the bed so that you can lie back, you have the chance to really take him in fully for the first time. His wet curls are already starting to stand up in all directions, which might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. His eyes are dark and his perfect lips are swollen from your kisses. You see freckles dotting his neck and chest and you wet your lips at the idea of tracing them with your tongue. His strong arms, the ones that carried you without any problem at all, look even broader from this angle. A strong chest slopes down into a soft belly, and you smile at how much you love it.

Maybe you’re starting to understand what he feels when he looks at you.

His large hand is gripping his cock, giving it a few tugs as he stands over you. Even in his hand, he looks…big. So much so that you get a little nervous. But those nerves aren’t in charge of you anymore.

“C’mere,” you say with a whisper, shifting your legs wider and holding out your arms for him to lie down with you.

He starts to kneel on the bed and crawl towards you, but he stops. He’s in awe of how gorgeous you look. Relaxed and happy, the memory of the orgasm he just gave you still crawling up and down your body. No walls up.

His.

“Din?” you ask, arms dropping down.

“Sorry, I just…you’re so pretty. You’re beautiful,” he says, sincerity evident on his face. You should know by now that Din just says what he means.

“Get down here, I need you,” you say with a bashful smile. Din finally listens, settling in between your legs and caging you in with his arms. His stomach rests against yours and for the first time in your life, you find that you love the feeling.

“I, um…don’t know if I can take you. I’ve never been with anyone so…big,” you confess. “Or with many people at all.” You hold your eye contact with him.

Din leans down on his elbows and gives you a sweet, comforting kiss. “That’s ok, sweet girl. We’ll work through it together, okay? I’ll get you ready,” he says. Leaning back on his knees, he peers down at your cunt with hunger in his eyes. “I just want to put my mouth back on you, but I think you need my fingers this time.”

You nod eagerly, and Din repositions himself so that he can work you open with his thick fingers while he goes back to kissing and sucking on your neck and tits. He whispers praise the whole time, telling you how perfect you’re being for him and how he can’t wait to be inside you. After several minutes and a soft, rolling orgasm, he knows that you can take him.

He’s so ready for you, practically dripping pre-come on the sheets below. When you tell him that you’re ready he wastes no time guiding his cock through your wet folds, notching himself against your opening before slowly starting to push in.

He’s big. You try to remind yourself to breathe while Din murmurs more praise against your neck. You can’t help but clench up, walls clamping down on him. He’s only about halfway in, you realize.

“It’s ok, mesh’la. Take your time and breathe for me. I know you’re going to open up so good for me, aren’t you? If it hurts, we stop,” Din promises. You take a few breaths while you cling to him, and after a moment or two, you start to relax around him.

“That’s it. Good girl. So good for me,” he praises. You mewl with pleasure as the feeling of fullness turns from discomfort to satisfaction, and it spurs Din on as he slowly pushes until he is fully sheathed inside of you.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, you don’t know,” he says, starting to thrust back and forth.

“Oh god, Din, I thought it was just me,” you say as you throw your head back with a moan. He moves faster and faster, pace building as he pushes your knees even further apart so that you can take him deeper. He snaps his hips against yours and you feel that tingly feeling that makes your toes want to curl start to build.

Your warm skin on his is intoxicating, along with Din’s sweet words and obvious care for how you’re feeling. Your own orgasm that comes after a few minutes of Din’s increasingly frantic motions triggers his own, and he spills inside of you with a long and low moan. When he collapses on top of you, you hang on to him like a lifeline and scratch your nails up and down his back.

Neither one of you say anything for a few minutes. Din is content to stay inside of you as he softens, his cum spilling out slowly as he rests his head on your chest. You’re happy with how he feels on top of you, both just melting into each other.

Din finally pulls out of you fully and you shudder a bit at the sensation. Immediately you miss the fullness. He gets a warm cloth to clean you up before pulling both of you under the blanket, the chill of space setting in. You cuddle up against his side, one leg thrown over his, as you rest a hand over that soft little tummy of his.

“How long?” you wonder quietly.

Din looks down at you, eyebrow cocked with a question.

“You said you had wanted this- me- for so long. How long?”

Din sighs, and you give him a moment. “Since I came back from the first hunt that you took care of the kid. You didn’t hear me come up the ramp and you were singing to him. Telling him that I would be back soon and that you couldn’t wait to see me,” he says quietly. “I missed you - both of you - the whole time I was gone but I didn’t think that maybe you were missing me too. Even just a little bit. You were so good with him and I just…wanted to be with you all the time after that.”

“Oh, baby, I missed you so much. From the very beginning,” you say, slotting your lips gently against his. “I never thought you would want someone like me.”

“I only see you, mesh’la. You’re all that I want.”

You smile at this sweet, protective, caring man who is looking at you like you hung every single star in the sky.

“You’ve got me, Din.”

**

A/N: I love them, okay? And I firmly believe that Din loves without judgment and accepts people just as they are. I think that after the events of this day, she pulls many more confessions out of him of all the times that he's been yearning for her. She's going to share her own too, and make sure he knows just how much she loves his tum. Along with all the rest of him.