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jangofctts · 4 years ago

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Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst @blue-writes-a03 @max--phillips

#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

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asteraegis · 5 years ago

Text

i dont know what to say for myself honestly.

for the love of god take heed of the tags before beginning. i really fucked edward up and ive written a smut specifically about choking him out.

its from edward’s POV btw

Tags: Deimos! Alexios/ANGST/mild to moderate violence/assault TW/choking/slapping/M|M/blowjob/cream pie/rimjob/spanking/biting/breathplay/aggressive dom/masochism/sadism/forced submission/rawing/knifeplay/top dom! Alexios/bottom sub! Edward

6122 words.

I felt his stare burning into my skin. Why was he so interested in me?

I had just introduced myself to him as one should to new recruits, that’s all. He had nodded in response, looking down on me with those dark eyes I’ve learned to fear. If I had known Alexios’ past beforehand, well, perhaps I wouldn’t have been so casual when greeting him. This man, he was a murderer of hundreds of people, if not thousands. I mean, I know I’m not one to judge seeing as I was a pirate, but the people I killed then were mainly by canons on a ship, not with my hands. And now I’ve had this brooding shadow looming over me every day since I met him, his glare following me everywhere I go. I’m usually one to confront this sort of behavior, but with the rumors of his temper…

Needless to say, this Alexios fellow would not let me out of his sight. Even in my own room at night with the door locked and curtains drawn I felt his intensity. Had I done something to anger him? Why can’t I shake this brute from me?

However, this night was something different. It had been lashing down rain all day and with dusk approaching the weather still wasn’t letting up. I had been stuck at one of my usual haunts since the afternoon, stopping in originally for a couple quick drinks afore heading home. But being holed up in a pub for so long causes barflies to swarm around you. A couple rough looking gents with scars to suggest they’re naturals at picking fights had been looking me up and down for the past hour and it was beginning to get on my nerves. Figures, I can’t go anywhere without some kind of nasty look tossed my way. I turned my head to look out the tavern’s window at the rain. It had lightened up slightly but that wasn’t saying much. But seeing as I left my phone back at my apartment there really was no reason for me to pissed about being soaked during the walk home. I sighed and handed the bartender a tip.

“Don’t seem like it’s letting up any time soon, mate, I’ll just suffer through it,” I muttered, finishing my third drink of the evening.

“Aye, just don’t drown, Kenway,” he nodded and with that I left the bar.

I had only gone about a block before I heard gruff voices call out and heavyset footsteps approaching with haste. Blast it, those codgers are lookin’ for a brawl, I thought as I looked over my shoulder to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, the two men from the pub that were glaring at me were chasing after me. I began to run, not in the mood to fight them in a storm and hoping me speeding my pace would cause them to give up. Unfortunately, they didn’t give up and began cackling behind me.

“Where you goin’ blondie?” I heard one of them holler. “We just want to chat!”

I stepped wrong while running and it sent a surge of pain up my left leg, making me stumble a little. I hadn’t fallen, but the mistake did hurt quite a bit. I tried to bare the feeling long enough to turn the next block’s corner into a secluded road only about a block from my apartment. Once I reached the dirt path, I hurried behind a dumpster and massaged my knee. It must have popped from a bad foot placement. A slick sidewalk is never good running conditions, and it doesn’t help that I was wearing sandals. I slowed my breathing, expecting that the men would’ve just ran past this road. That is until one of the blokes took a fistful of my hair and dragged me from behind the dumpster in front of their partner. With his boot pushing me into the sludge I just wanted to slap myself for thinking they wouldn’t see the muddy foot prints I had left behind while I ran for cover.

The one that had caught me kneeled down over my back, lifting my head up to look at the other while restraining my arms. “Well, what d'ya think, man?”

His friend grinned, unbuckling his belt. “Yeah, this punk’ll do just fine.”

Ah. So, it wasn’t a fight they wanted. I writhed under the man and managed to buck him off, only for his accomplice to quickly grab me by the throat and pin me against the wall. He had a sick grin on his face and the sinister aura of it was only heightened by his grey eyes and the rain dripping down his cheeks. The other one punched me in the jaw while grey eyes held me still. I grunted, the hand on my throat flexing.

“Thought you could just run off again, sweetheart?” grey eyes sneered, leaning into my face in a way I’m assuming was meant to intimidate me. “Why don’t you just play along and we’ll let you go when we’re done, eh?”

Now, spitting in those pretty eyes of his probably wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done, but shit, it’s what I did. He grimaced and I managed to knee him in the crotch. He let go of my neck and I began to run off again but his pal tackled me to the ground. He held my face in the mud to stifle my yelp while grey eyes stomped on my ribcage.

“You ugly son of a whore!” he snapped. “We tried to play nice but now I’m gonna kill you and set your body ablaze in that dumpster once we’re finished!”

My head was lifted from the ground so I could look at him. I spat mud out of my mouth and smirked, knowing it’d only piss grey eyes off more. “Like you and your buddy have the stones for that.”

I wonder if he felt strong when he kicked my cheek. It’ll leave a bruise yes but I think me biting his cock off when he tries to force it down my throat will hurt him worse. I regrettably never got to enact my revenge on him though.

“Get off him,” a rough voice demanded through the rain.

I don’t remember much of what happened next. Grey eyes ordered his friend to knock me out so I wouldn’t run off while they dealt with the man. Shame. I would’ve loved to watch the fight.

When I opened my eyes next, I was at my apartment in my bath tub. The curtain was open and a man was standing in jeans and a white tank top. Red splotches dotted and splattered his clothes. He was rinsing his hands in my sink, blood washing off them, his knuckles raw. My eyes explored up his scarred arms to his face and that’s when my heart dropped. Alexios was in my bathroom. Why was he here? Why was I naked? Why was he covered in blood? How had he got in here? I must’ve made some sort of noise trying to figure out what to do about this situation because he looked at me in the mirror. I sunk down in the water, afraid of his plans with me.

“Hmph. You’re awake,” he huffed.

I recognized the voice. He was the man in the alley that intervened. That only brought up more questions in my head. “Why–”

“I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in while you were out–”

“Why am I naked?” I blurted out.

He looked confused about me interrupting him at first, but a snide smile spread on his face. “You were covered in mud, Edward.”

“How’d we get in here?”

“You’ve got keys, don’t you?”

I bit my lip and glared at him. Sass, huh? I studied his shirt again and noticed dirt down his right shoulder. He must have carried me here after giving those blighters what for. Still, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him stripping me while I was out cold. He lifted off his tank top and tossed it in my hamper, using one of my towels to wipe the smudges off his arm. It was my first time seeing him without something over his torso and all I could think was that he was chiseled like a damn statue. He put that rag in the hamper, too, then turned his attention to me.

“You could at least thank me for saving your skin and washing you, boy,” he said, a blank expression I couldn’t decipher on his face.

My ears got hot. He washed me? Just thinking of his hands rubbing down my body… Jaysus… “Uh, right. Thanks.”

He nodded and moved over to stand over me. “You’ve been soaking long enough; I think it’s time we got you out and dried you off.”

Alexios reached down to lift me out of the tub but I squirmed out of the way. “I-I can stand myself, mate. Just… can you fetch me some trousers?”

He huffed, almost seeming disappointed in my competence. After he left the room I stood and dried myself off with a towel. I wrapped it around my waist, bending over to drain the tub. I flinched when I heard the floorboards creak outside the bathroom door. I knew he was standing there but he wasn’t saying anything, just watching me with those shadowy eyes. When I turned around, he handed me some bottoms—a pair of white swim trunks that wouldn’t even reach mid-thigh. I sighed but took them from him regardless.

I went to slide the shorts on but his stare not breaking from me caused my hands to hesitate. “Do you mind, mate?”

“No,” he said, still not breaking eye contact with my skin.

I blushed and positioned myself away from him, but even with my face away from his I could still feel his gaze. I attempted to wriggle into the trunks while I had the towel around my waist but right before I could pull them all the way up it fell to the floor. I hastily tugged the shorts on, now more than ever unable to look Alex in the eye, though based off the low snicker behind me he enjoyed my mishap. Figures. I shifted to have my face toward him but still wouldn’t look at his face. He seemed able to detect that I was unsure of him. From the mirror I was able to spy his grin as his own gaze met mine in the reflection. Against my own wishes my eyes instinctively darted away to the floor and he laughed louder.

“Tell me, blondie,” his voice sounded like a wolf’s growl as he approached me slowly. “do you fear me?”

I didn’t answer him. Both because I couldn’t find the courage to say no and even if I said so I’m sure he could detect I was lying. Now standing inches from me I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I’ve never felt so terrified and I’ve had swords to my throat, been beaten half to death, and survived multiple shipwrecks. I’m not sure what I was expecting him to do to me, but grab my pony tail and wrench my hair down so my neck was straining to look at him wasn’t it. He looked livid with me. I pushed away from him but he shoved me against the wall, the back of my head slamming up against the tiles. I yelped but Alexios slapped me across the face with the back of his hand and grabbed my jaw to keep my eyes focused on him, his fingers digging into my skin.

“When I ask you a question, answer me,” he snarled. “Got that?”

I tried to speak when he asked; I really did. But my body was trembling and it didn’t help when he shook me. I could feel that there was water in my eyes but I couldn’t tell if I actually had started crying when he shook me the second time, I just started shouting out an answer. My voice felt like a foreign object in my mouth, I couldn’t control anything I said to him. “Yes! All right? I am afraid of you mate! And why shouldn’t I be? I’ve heard plenty of stories on how ruthless you are and now I’m pinned to my own wall half naked being shouted at by you, you fucking knave! Now either kill me too or let go of me!”

Alexios stood like a brick wall when I attempted yet again to push him off me. There was nothing in his expression. He was just, watching. His grip on my face didn’t change for what felt like hours so I stared back at him, wondering if he could crush my jaw in his hand. From this close to him, mere breaths away, I studied him as he always did me. Alexios’ eyes were intense, but I could feel there was something behind them, something that almost felt like innocence broken by misplaced trust. He had a scar on his left cheek that cut through the top of his eyebrow. There was sleeplessness under his eyes creating dark circles. With all this mutual observing I wondered if he felt anything looking at me. After an eternity he at last blinked a few times and his hands dropped to my shoulders. His visage softened and I realized I still had my hands pushing against him. When I began to take them away, he suddenly wrapped his arms around me in a hard embrace. My face was pressed into his neck while he held me, his head against mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he made an effort to pull me as close to him as possible. I was baffled. This man just slapped and shouted at me, I just admitted I feared him, I can still feel his fingers and palm’s sting on my face, and now he’s hugging me?

“I… I am sorry, Edward,” he mumbled into my hair. His voice seemed to crack for a moment and I heard him sniffle. Was he crying? “I didn’t mean to harm you, I just… I—I can’t control myself.”

If I was puzzled before I was utterly lost now. “Alex—”

“I needed to know how I made you feel, whether or not you trust me, if you feared my presence. And here I stand, with you shuddering in my grasps. I never wanted you to feel this way, Edward. I—I never wanted you to—I never—”

He was crying, choking on his words like I had before. Was this a confession? I blinked off any tears my fear might have brought in and pushed back from him to look him in the eye. He held his head down but I could still see a tear stream down over his scar. He spoke of me quaking in his arms but nothing compares to the quiver when I took his head in my hands to make him look at me. He appeared so distraught by his own actions. When I moved my hands to his broad shoulders, he slumped against me, something I’ll admit I wasn’t quite ready for. He wasn’t that much larger than me, I’ll admit, but I wasn’t prepared to support his weight and we fell to the floor, half in the hallway and half in the loo. He laid on top of me and I wormed around but it seems his revelation exhausted the man. Sighing, I settled into the floor, pondering how long I’d be stuck there under Alexios. His cheeks had dried from his fit of emotion and his breathing had slowed to a normal pace. I endeavored to run my fingers through his hair, but his dreads were too thick to comfort this brooding baby in that way. I stared at the ceiling with my arms stretched out over my head, questioning why I was even still laying here, I’ve moved men heavier than him off me before. Was I just afraid to wake him? I looked at him sleeping on me. For once I didn’t feel fear from his presence, in fact I pitied him. He clearly needed something like this, though if all he wanted from me was to relax on my body, I felt bad for avoiding him for so long.

I think I may have drifted off a little while we laid on the floor. When I woke up it was significantly darker in the apartment, the only light being the bathroom’s. I must have made some sort of noise or shifted slightly because Alexios suddenly groaned and lifted his chest off me. He had his hands planted on either side of my shoulders and my arms were still reaching above my head on the wood. While we slept our legs had also joined in on this compromising position, my thighs resting over his with his groin against me. We blushed when our eyes met and Alex sat back on his heels to let me sit up as well.

“Sorry about that, Edward,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“No worries mate, I didn’t mind it at all!” I laughed, trying to break the tension between us.

Alexios raised an eyebrow at me and cocked his head. “At all?”

“Not in the slightest!” I need to stop talking without thinking.

“Is that so?”

“Yep!” Oh my god.

He seemed to have this queer plan forming in his head. I wanted to bite my tongue off. Considering how he reacted when I was naked earlier, I’m sure me saying I was completely comfortable having him pressing on top of me was only adding insult to injury. He looked me up and down with an inquisitive nature, almost debating his next move. I gulped when I noticed his lips form a smirk. I stayed on the floor while he got to his feet, my body stuck in this pose looking up at him like I was a submitting dog. That snide mien returned to him when he stood over me. I tried to smile at him in the friendliest manner I could, though I think he misunderstood what kind of friend I was trying to come off as.

“Well, in that case, blondie,” he lifted me into his arms in a fisherman’s carry and marched me into my room after turning off the bathroom light. I was dropped on my back in my sheets and watched Alexios hold his belt buckle. “You wouldn’t mind getting to know each other better, now would you?”

I think I put the most thought into this answer of any I said all day. I felt my stare glued to his hands on that buckle and my tongue pushed itself against the roof of my mouth. For the first time since the day I met him I gave him a genuine smile. “No, I certainly wouldn’t.”

He returned me with a satisfied leer, quickly getting to unbuckling his pants, whipping his belt off so swiftly it made a whooping noise. Alexios grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me to the foot of the bed, putting the belt on around my neck like a collar and leash. He didn’t secure the buckle so it felt more like a noose, but regardless I felt ready to melt into anything he put me in, be it this leather strap or a rope. He tugged on the belt and it tightened around my throat, causing me to groan. He sat on the bed next to me and patted his lap for me to rest my head over. I was on my stomach and he placed a hand over my ass whilst his other took his cock out in front of me. He began stroking it to get it fully erect with me watching through a hungry gaze, biting my lip as his fist rubbed down the veiny shaft, his knuckles still raw from his brawl. Once hard, Alexios took the belt to yank me towards his dick and I immediately got to work, my lips kissing his tip before licking it in a circular motion. My tongue traced down his skin then back up to the head and I heard him sigh as I moved my mouth down around his cock. I went slow at first, going straight to the base and from his light muttered swear I could tell he wasn’t expecting I could deepthroat him. I got cocky and began sucking him with more force, moving my head back and forth down him. My showing off seemed to be working for Alex as his hand became snugger on my ass. I moved my left hand down to go to town on my own member, but he noticed me rubbing myself and spanked my ass with the same force he slapped me with earlier. I whimpered and instinctively withdrew my hand, him amused by my retreat.

“Good boy, you’ve been trained well,” he whispered to me.

He’s right, I’ve learned to be wont to being used like this. He spanked me again, and he appeared to enjoy my muffled yelps as he did it again, and again, and again. My skin felt numb and my cock was begging me to stroke it. I decided that if he was just going to continuing slapping me like this I might as well try to rub myself once more, just to see if he was willing to let me. I quickly learned he wasn’t, as when I started moving my hand down once more, he grabbed the back of my head and choked me with his cock, my lips pressed to the base of his groin. I attempted to push my head back so I could breathe but his hold was far stronger than my neck. I began gagging, wondering if he was going to let me breathe any time soon. Perhaps he liked how it felt to have his cock in my throat while I choked. He switched up his hands so he no longer was holding my ass but unfortunately for me he grabbed the belt with his other. Alex pulled it skintight, compressing my throat and I felt tears forming in my eyes. I moved my hands to hold his thigh, digging my nails into him as if to ask him if he was trying to kill me already. There was a low chuckle when I struggled to pull away from him, like he was enjoying my scriking. I was becoming more desperate to move off of him, but it was too difficult with him being so much stronger than me.

“Scared, are we?” He leaned in over me, yanking my head back so I could look into his glare. “Next time don’t touch yourself without my permission, understand?”

I moaned in response to him, hoping he’d finally let me catch my breath. He patted my head and finally released me, my body moving on its own to get away from him, gasping for air while I backed up against the wall on the other end of the bed. Alexios had a wicked grin on his face, grabbing the belt to pull me back to him.

“Aw, I really did frighten you. You’ve got your mascara running down your cheeks like a scared little whore,” he said while wiping my face with his thumb.

I was still winded and with my panic subsiding I began to see red. “You… what the fuck were you trying to do? Suffocate me?”

He frowned, clearly able to detect my irritation with him. “Sorry, I had gotten ahead of myself.”

Alexios was looking down at the floor like a guilty dog and I rolled my eyes, kicking him in the side. “Well shit mate, don’t stop, just give me a damn warning next time.”

I saw his entire body perk up and he shifted around, taking the ‘leash’ in his hand and tugging me closer to him. He noticed me wince from how taut the belt was around my neck and loosened it slightly for me which made me groan again. Honestly, either be rough with me or play nice, don’t keep switching up. I lurched forward and shoved him down on the sheets, kissing him and smiling against his lips at the startled noise he made. I grinded my pelvis over his cock, his hands slapping down on my ass to jerk me into him. I felt his fingers caressing the seam on my trunks but I shrugged it off, not realizing he was looking for the best place to grab a hold of so he could rip open my shorts. It was one quick tear and it’s fair to say I wasn’t ready for it. Alexios grabbed my flesh, toying with it in his palms while I rocked back and forth on him. He kissed me back as he rolled over on top of me, but only for a short time as he soon moved his mouth down to kiss my jaw, my neck, and then my shoulder. At my shoulder, he bit me and I yelped, my hands and legs wrapping around him while he tore my skin. He lapped at the blood from my fresh wound like he was a wolf.

Alexios’ eyes shot me a harsh glance, though before I could think about what that look meant he answered my question with his cock up my ass. I cried out, wishing he gave me more of a warning than just a simple stare before going in raw, but I guess he wasn’t used to being accommodating. He continued this trend of being unaccommodating while he fucked me, his strokes inside me being ruthless and deep. I couldn’t control my voice; I was just a whining mess at his mercy. Alex shook my arms off his back and pinned my arms down next to my head, his weight being pressed into my wrists. My legs tightened around his waist in response to the way he was dominating me, still aching to touch myself but knowing there was no way he’d let that happen. He seemed to love my wailing; his grunts tainted by low laughs. I see his life as Deimos has made him have a fetish for causing pain in others. Hmph, schadenfreude.

I continued trying to free myself, but damn was this guy strong. I couldn’t even manage to lift my pinned wrists, and that’s with the added adrenaline of my ass feeling like it was being torn to shreds by his lack of empathy. Alexios didn’t once seem to want to slow down with me. He just wanted things done his way and couldn’t careless about how much pain I was in. Perhaps I gave him the impression I could take a beating and that’s why he’s been eyeing me the way he has. I could hear his grunts deepening; he must have really been feeling this semi-torture session. His love of completely dominating me made me wonder if he just viewed me as prey, a toy for him to use and then he’d throw me away. The idea of that must’ve turned me on quite a bit as I felt precum from my cock drip onto my pelvis. I’m not surprised I was into being used; I just wish I had standards for how I was treated in bed. Honestly, I wish I wasn’t wincing through this dealing so I could keep my eyes open long enough to properly see the expression on Alexios’ face. What I’d give to be able to watch this beast fuck me before my eyes…

Alex’s speed somehow went faster and his grip on my wrists turned into an almost crushing feeling “Oh god Edward…” I heard him moan.

I swear I was about to bite a hole in my lip. I had bit myself to stifle an actual scream from the pain, but luckily for me after Alexios came I only had to suffer through a few more rough pumps. After those he slowed to a halt, both of us catching our breaths for the moment. I finally got a good look at him, sweat soaking his brow and his cheeks red. He pulled out of me and I felt his cum dripping out of me as he did. He finally moved off from holding my wrists and sat back, looking at the clear hard on in my shorts and the mess he made of my rear. I tried to give him a little simper so he’d know I enjoyed it, but he just kept staring at my bottom with the same gaze I was giving his cock earlier. I gulped, knowing he still wasn’t finished with me.

“Roll over,” he demanded and I obliged with haste.

I had originally been on my hands and knees but Alexios knocked me down to my elbows afore grabbing my thighs. He bit my inner thigh before licking up my leg to my ass where he bit me again. I winced, this guy really liked using teeth, huh? I felt him lick the bite, stinging my flesh before his tongue traced to the rim of my ass. Is… is he going to eat me out?

Well, it wasn’t a question for long. Sure enough, Alexios started lapping away despite having just came inside me. My stomach fluttered, he just kept surprising me. My cock was twitching uncontrollably, I was moments away from climaxing myself. And then he stopped, grabbing my hair by the pony tail, wrenching my body backwards. The back of my head laid on his lap, his gaze meeting min. Alexios wiped his mouth and shot me a jeering leer, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart was beating quickly as his stare moved down my body.

“Look at you, dripping like a girl would,” he taunted, flicking my cock’s head. I yelped which he seemed to like. “Let me guess, you want to cum, don’t you?”

I nodded. I’d want nothing more than to finally finish. He’s been toying with me for so long I felt numb. Usually I’d feel happier about lasting longer than my partner but this was just too much, I was losing my mind.

Alexios took my wrists in his fingers, those rough hands pinning my arms against the sheets. “Beg for it, blondie.”

I didn’t even try to fight him. I just bit my tongue and swallowed any remaining pride I had. “Please, Alex,” my voice was quivering as I spoke but who could blame me, I was desperate. “I want to cum, I need to, please let me, mate, it’s driving me mad. I need it, Alex, I feel numb. Please, please, please, let me—”

Alexios had grinned right before he slapped me across the face. Judging by the laughter, I must’ve done something right. Even so, my skin was left with yet another one of his handprints on it and I only wished he’d stop playing these games and just cut me the least bit of slack so I could just—

A knife pressed up against my throat. Alexios had pulled a switchblade from his pocket while I was recovering from his palm’s burn. My breathing changed to become shorter and more rapid. I could feel the edge grazing my skin. One slip of his fingers and my throat would be cut, be it on accident or purpose, I wouldn’t be able to tell with him. All I had to go on was that same old snide smile. His other hand stoked my hair, twirling strands around. He used the blade to tilt my chin back so I had to look down my nose at him. His thumb graced my cheek in a soothing way, almost making me forget all about the weapon in his other hand.

“You may touch yourself now, sweetheart, but keep those blue eyes of yours shut,” he whispered to me.

My heart rate was still speeding but, somehow, I managed to calm myself enough to shut my eyes and move my hands down to my groin without moving my neck, a feat harder than someone who’s never had a blade against their throat might think. My cock was peeking out the waistband of my trunks so I just finished pulling down the shorts so I could rub myself. The feeling of my fingers finally touching me was pure ecstasy. I bit my lip while I finished myself off, Alex still petting the side of my head. While I couldn’t see his face right now, I knew he was grinning from watching my spray myself with my own semen. As soon as the blade moved from my neck, I began panting like a thirsty dog to catch my breath. He swiped the blade over my abdomen carefully so he wouldn’t slice me while I breathed, though at this point I don’t think I’d have cared if he did.

Alexios patted the side of my head. “Open your eyes, my little puppy, and stick out your tongue. I’ve got a treat for you.”

I opened my eyes slowly, still panting but now with my tongue out I really felt like his mutt. In front of my face he held his switchblade, it glazed with my cum. He wiped the blade over my tongue.

“Good boy. Now, swallow.”

I did, even opening my mouth to show him, which he seemed to get a kick out of. He chuckled, rustling my hair. I smirked back at him; glad to see I had done a good job for him. He leaned back against my pillows and I rolled over on top of him, moving up his body so I could lay on his chest rather than his legs. He looked overjoyed, his forearm over his eyes while he shined a grand smile.

“Hey, Alex,” I said, trying to get his attention without success. I flicked his arm, though he didn’t even flinch. Pouting, I grabbed his jaw and pulled him to face me. “Oi, Alex.”

He looked a little surprised that I had suddenly grabbed him, but he was still grinning. “What, Goldilocks?”

Goldilocks, oh how many times I’ve heard that. “’Fraid I don’t fear you no more, mate.”

Alexios’ fingers brushed through my hair. “Aw, what a shame. Guess I’ll need to reinstate that later, huh?”

I knew I was dancing with a devil at this point, but still I gave him a cheeky smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

He and I shared a fit of giggling banter before falling asleep. When I woke up, the side of the bed he had slept on was empty. I frowned for a moment before hearing clanking coming from the kitchen and him groaning. I snickered, shaking my head. Can’t believe I was scared of him just hours ago. When I stood to go help him out with breakfast, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Torn shorts with cum staining the fabric, bruises dotted my skin alongside a few bitemarks. The worst of these marks were the bruises wrapping around my neck and my swollen ass. The shiner from the kick in the face I took yesterday wasn’t nothing either, but judging by the amount of blood Alex’s shirt was drenched with I couldn’t really complain. I changed my pants to some clean striped boxer briefs before heading into my kitchen where I found Alexios running his hand under water.

I grinned while watching him, walking towards him silently. Once behind him I slapped his ass, making the brute jump and swear. I laughed at his reaction, leaning my body up against his shoulder while he covered his face in embarrassment.

“Come to help me then, blondie?” he sighed.

I pressed my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arm around his waist. “Shit, if you’re really struggling that much to fry a couple eggs.”

He groaned at my snark, though I helped him anyway, not wanting him to burn himself making scrambled eggs again, even though his brief incompetence was kind of cute. The eggs weren’t that bad, just a tad burnt. We parted ways about an hour later, though the next day I saw him those dark eyes looked more afraid of my ability to bounce back from his beating than anything else. At last, it was my stare burning his skin, not his on mine. I grinned at him and his eyes darted away from me. He was scared of me.

Good.

#alexward #alexios #edward #assassins creed #i write #its 5:47am #im so sorry my dear sweet boy #if youre lucky i'll write a smut of you fucking arno instead of the one i want to write where roberts #ya know #tortures you senselessly #yall reading this like 'shit at least it isnt noncon'#acod #ac4

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