#you're going to catch a cold if you keep taking baths just as the plot points happen and you very suddenly have to step out on the deck'

[spectraling]

Just saw someone point out that there's def a trend among Andreas' characters to be inexplicably (half-)naked and I suddenly realized I'm gonna get Captain Larsen all wet and naked on that damn ship aren't I

[decembermidnight]

Who do you belong to?

Summary: You go to the healing baths to massage Mando's hot body with oil. After that, in the hot springs, he makes sure that everyone understands you only belong to him.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ mdni, body worship, teasing, unprotected sex, switching (dom!din, sub!reader, sub!din, dom!reader), titjob, exhibitionism, public sex, possessive!din, creampie, facial, praise kink, degradation kink, brief and vague mentions of sex work

A/N: This oneshot is based on a dream I had. This is also the first time I'm writing sub!din and I absolutely loved it and uhm what can I say except you'll see more in the future? As always, I hope you enjoy it. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

The Mandalorian's whole body hurts like hell after his last excruciating hunt. You want to give him a well-deserved massage to let him know how much you appreciate what he does, to help him relax and alleviate his pain, but you don’t want to do that in the cold, dark hull of his ship, so you decide to go to the most renowned healing baths of the outer rim - a place that has private massage rooms and restorative hot springs, even if most of its regulars go there for the brothel.

When you’re discreetly asked if you would like some company for the night, he is quick to turn down the offer. 

"I already have" he then whispers in your ear, hugging you from behind and lowering the hem of your dress to expose your nipple "my whore." his voice is calm and husky as he starts to delicately circle your nipple with his gloved finger right there in the mess of the busy hall, crowded by unaware customers and workers waiting to be chosen for the night. You let out an aroused sigh and lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you feel your cunt already throbbing with need.

His hand won’t leave your waist as you walk towards your private room for the night, and when you finally get there, you can only catch a glimpse of what it looks like - dimly lit by candles, a big and comfortable massage bed in the centre - before he locks the door and pins you against the wall, closing your eyes with his hand. You hear the metallic thud of the beskar helmet falling on the floor and immediately feel his lips on yours as your fingers start running through his messy hair.

His mouth is greedy and lustful and the way he desires your lips drives you wild, making you hold him tighter, craving for more. You kiss each other in a longing, warm and passionate way. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and you can’t help letting out a moan when you feel it finally meeting with yours.

"What a dirty girl. You like letting me take out your tits in front of everyone, don’t you?" he growls in between hungry kisses.

"Fuck, yes, I do." you’re a panting mess already, incredibly turned on just by the way he’s kissing you.

"Do you like being looked at while I touch you, knowing that you're only mine?" he softly whispers against your lips, barely audible as he gently squeezes your throat.

"Yes, Mando. Let them see what they will never have. Show them who I fucking belong to." you cup his face in your hands and bite his bottom lip fiercely.

He goes crazy at that, and pushes you against the wall even further with his body, his beskar armour against your skin, his erection on your lower belly. You moan again in his mouth and grip tight to his biceps as his kisses make you tremble out of lust.

“I want you. Want you so bad.” you whisper on his lips, as he keeps kissing your mouth lovingly.

“Not so fast” he smirks as he turns you around, pinning you once again against the wall, beskar pressed against your back.

You let out an aroused sigh and keep your eyes shut as you feel his hot breath on your neck and his hands gently caressing your body, worshipping your feminine curves. He covers your neck in sweet kisses as his moustache softly tickles you - the feeling gives you a thrill and you arch your back in response, wanting to feel even more of him, humping his erection with your ass and letting out a gasp. He bites your neck to muffle his moan as his hands strongly squeeze your breasts. With a thrust of his hips, he pushes your body even further against the wall and goes on kissing you, following the curve of your shoulder, playing with the straps of your dress between his fingers, making you quiver at the contact of his lips with your skin. 

His hands trail down to your hips and under your dress to take off your drenched panties. You kick out of them and immediately feel his gloved hand cupping your mound, his finger teasing your slit, making you moan in anticipation. He hums in your ear and softly bites your lobe when he feels how wet you are.

"Please-" you whisper in a breathy moan.

You feel him kneeling behind you and you arch your back, spreading your legs and sticking your ass out so that he'll want to bury his face in your folds. His hands start to caress your thighs as he admires the view of your glistening pussy from under your skirt. He gets close, so close to your core, you can feel his breath between your legs.

"Could eat you all night like this." he whispers against your clit, just before giving it a quick lick that makes your whole body shake in anticipation.

"Too bad it won't be tonight." he chuckles sadistically as you hear him putting his helmet back on.

“M-Mando! You can’t-” you try to argue with him, but he’s quick to turn you around and to lean an arm on the wall behind you, towering over you, lifting your chin with his free hand. You’re face to face with his visor now, and you quit complaining, speechless and aroused as he stands so menacingly in front of you and grabs your throat.

“Shut up. And strip me.” he orders with his firm voice.

His pose, his voice, his order make your knees weak and you’re suddenly so grateful for the wall behind you.

He stays completely still as you go on removing layer after layer of beskar and clothing from his body, taking all the time in the world, letting him simmer as you look at him with lustful eyes, slowly discovering the hot, tanned, muscular frame always concealed underneath the Mandalorian armour. You are so reverentially careful, wanting to gently touch his hot skin at every chance given, feeling his gaze from under the visor following the movement of your fingers on his muscles and the adoring way you look at him.

“Go lay down on the bed. Let me take care of you now.” you let a finger slide on his abdomen and stop right at his dark curls, ignoring his painfully hard cock twitching at how sweet and inviting your voice sounds. He obeys you, going to lay down on his stomach on the massage bed.

You grab an oil bottle from the stand right next to the bed, let a few drops coat your hands and start massaging his shoulders. The muscles are tense, you feel the knots under your loving touch. You hope to alleviate the pressure of the guns and armour he’s always carrying, carefully kneading one of your favourite parts of his gorgeous body. He sinks into the massage bed, completely abandoning himself to you, letting you take care of him and his needs, letting his guard down, trusting you. You slide your thumbs up, towards his neck, concentrating on his nape, hoping it will be a relief from always wearing the heavy beskar helmet.

You keep massaging him, sliding down slowly and softly towards his back. His tan skin is smooth and hot to the touch, and you can see and feel all the small dips formed by his muscles, which you diligently follow with your fingers, wanting to memorise every single one of them, and the scars that he has gained over the years, and you can’t help but think of how many enemies he has defeated in battle, how strong he is, how nothing bad could happen to you while you’re with him. His muscles are so tense and you take your time kneading them, releasing his knots, hoping that it will help him relax and feel less pain. He hums under your touch, enjoying it. 

“Feels so good.” he whispers, barely audible. He loves to feel your hands touching his body. “Will you also massage the front of my body, sweet girl?” he asks.

“Of course." you purr on his shoulder blade, planting a kiss there, making him shudder as you trace your fingers down his spine. "Turn around for me."

When he does, you let out in an exhale all the air in your lungs at the sight of that gorgeous body of his - thick and strong, the outline of his muscles peeks from under his golden, tan skin and is accentuated by the warm, dim light of the candles scattered around the room. There is a slight taper at his waist, making his shoulders the broadest part of his body, and when your eyes trail down, you notice his cock is rock hard for you, its tip deliciously glistening in precum. 

Just as you’re speechless looking at him - every time it’s like the first time, you won’t ever get used to how stunning he is - he folds his arms behind his head. He knows you love it when he does it - this position makes his muscles look even bigger.

"Why don't you start from my arms and shoulders? They've been killing me lately." he teases.

You know he's doing this on purpose, smirking under that damn helmet for sure, feeling how aroused you are at the sight of that devastatingly gorgeous masculine body.

You feel your clit pulsing right under your dress at his teasing, so you close your legs to try and alleviate the pressure so that you can focus on your task.

You start massaging his arms, accurately touching his biceps, oiling them, following the curve of his triceps until his elbow, running your fingers on him as he flexes his muscles on purpose, to make you feel how hard and strong they are, humming under your touch for the sole purpose of teasing you, to drive you crazy, to make you desperate begging for his cock. The look on your face must be of pure lust as you admire the wonder of him, knowing all of that it's only for your eyes to see and for you to touch. You squeeze his arms hard, groping his muscles with longing hands and close your eyes as you feel your pussy clenching in desperate need of attention.

"Is there something you want to ask me, pretty girl?" he taunts you as he sees how hard you're trying to contain yourself.

One of his hands travels to your knee, then up to your thigh, your legs spread for him until he reaches your slit, dripping wet.

“Take your dress off and sit on me.” he orders as he draws circles on your clit with his finger, making you moan loudly as your pussy produces the filthiest wet sounds. He takes his hand away, cleaning it by spreading your slick all over his erection, lazily and mercilessly stroking his cock in front of your eyes.

"Tell me to stop, or I won't." his voice is firm and authoritative, and you feel a blaze traversing your body, making your cunt ache with need.

The sight of him completely naked, giving himself pleasure with your very same arousal in front of you makes your blood boil.

"S-stop. Stop touching yourself." you say shyly as you slowly take off your dress, freeing your breasts and stepping out of it. 

"You don't sound very convincing. Seems like you enjoy watching me do it. Try again." he goads you, gripping his cock even tighter watching your exposed breasts.

Something inside of you snaps. If he wants you to give him orders, you will give him orders.

"I said" you go sit on his lap, straddling him. 

"Stop." you take the hand stroking his cock into yours. 

"Touching." you bring his hand up over his head, your body now is skin to skin against his. 

"Yourself." you look at him straight into the visor of his helmet, a flame burning in your eyes.

He growls under the helmet as your sudden power surge makes his cock throb under you.

"Fuck. You're so hot when you give me orders. Greedy whore. You want to be the only one touching this cock, don't you?"

You purposefully grind your pussy against his erection as you put his hand behind his head, same position as earlier.

"Fuck yes. I own it. It's mine. You're mine." you keep sliding your drenched cunt on its length, making him grunt. You cup his helmet in your hands, close your eyes and lift it enough just to kiss him on the lips. His lips part for you and you slide your tongue in. His mouth is welcoming, warm and passionate and it’s devastating how much he desires you, wanting more and more of you. You rub your body on his, making obscene sounds in his mouth. He swallows them greedily, humming under you. He sticks his tongue in your mouth, so heavily aroused by how authoritative you are in this moment, both with your words and your gestures, wanting to make you understand how much he's enjoying it. No one had ever lifted his helmet before and that little thrill of fear he felt when you did it, makes him even more feral for you.

You try to keep your cool, feeling his cock deliciously rubbing against your clit, so close to where you desperately want him. The mere rubbing gets you close to your orgasm so embarrassingly early, but you don't want to come just yet, not now that you're just getting started. You want it to be a pleasurable torment and tease him until he’s begging you.

You take a deep breath and bite his bottom lip, humming and lowering his helmet back on. After that, you reach for the oil and let a few drops fall on his chest and start massaging him, his firm pectoral muscles twitching under your touch, his erection softly brushing against your swollen core.

You can’t help thinking about how good it will feel to ride him just like that, but you want to torture him a bit more.

Later.

Later you'll ride him.

You slide your hands on his sides and see his abs contracting, showing you how deliciously in shape his body is. Your fingers can't stop touching his body and groping his muscles, exploring the soft dimples of his abdomen and feeling them twitching under the skin.

Your fingers slowly start to tease his lower belly, tracing that tempting v shape that goes on dying in his dark curls, making it glisten under the dim light in the most tempting way. You follow it with your oiled fingers and feel him tremble, ticklish and aroused at the same time, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier by the second, knowing your hands are so close to his erection.

"Why d-don't you go lower?" he asks. It sounds more like a beg than an order.

"Not so fast" you mock him as you trail your fingers desperately close to his erection without ever brushing it, making him grunt and throb under you. He wants you so much, he gives a thrust of his hips and you both moan at the same time.

"Patience, Mando." you tease him as you slide your body down between his legs to massage his muscular thighs. He goes crazy when he sees your mouth and your breasts so close, so damn close to his throbbing cock. You give him a long, excruciatingly thorough massage to his thighs, planting kisses on them until you get so close to his dick, but you won't touch it just yet. You feel his frustration grow stronger, and feel pleased with yourself at how much you're making him falter.

When you decide you made him suffer enough, you grab the oil again and let a few drops fall on his erection, his body marvellously answering by desperately twitching at that light stimulation. You spread the oil with your finger on his length, barely brushing it, just to tease him a little bit more and give him a taste of his own medicine for once.

"How does that feel?" you ask in a low voice, your lustful gaze steady on the dark visor.

He chokes a grunt when you wrap your thumb and index finger around his cock, stroking it painfully slow.

"D-damn, mesh'la. F-feels so, so fucking g-good"

All of his muscles go rigid as you wrap both of your hands around his throbbing dick, one on top of the other, and when you start slowly stroking it, he lets out a desperate groan.

"Do not move, or I'll stop. You look so fucking good like this. Oiled, naked and throbbing for me."

"M-mesh'la" his voice is begging you to pick up the pace, but he's enjoying this torture at the same time.

You have some fun with it, feeling so powerful and sadistic hearing the whining sounds he's making as you're touching him like this, seeing his chest moving, his abs contracting, imagining how desperate he'd look under the helmet.

"Do you want more?"

"Ngh- P-please" he pleads in a breathy voice.

That's when you start fucking him with your breasts. His cock is so oiled, it slips perfectly between your boobs as you look at him while licking your lips. They're so soft and tempting as you squeeze them in your hands, massaging his needy, throbbing dick. He groans desperately, muttering filth in his native language at the sight and the feeling. You make sure to give him the best view you could possibly offer - his cock slipping between your breasts as you never interrupt eye contact. You're starting to enjoy the control you have over him, feeling so powerful and seeing him so yielding and willing to let you have your fun at his expense.

You tease him for a bit like this, and then you go back straddling him. Your cunt is throbbing and needy and dripping wet as one of your hands is back slowly stroking his cock right in front of it.

He puts his hands on your hips, and one of his thumbs starts rubbing your clit, sending you to heaven. You keep touching each other, never breaking eye contact.

"Was I a - oh, fuck - Was I a good girl, Mando?"

"Y-yes. Yes, you're such a good girl." 

"Do I deserve your cock?"

"You do, fuck. You do."

"I want to ride you. Please. Let me ride your cock. I can't take it anymore. I need it." you whimper as you rock your hips and position his oiled cock in front of your entrance, making him feel how wet for him you are.

He hums in pleasure when you do so.

"Fuck. Do it. Ride me like it's my last night alive." he orders you in a gasp.

"Oh, I fucking will." You take in his cock and it slides perfectly inside of you, slow, smooth and you both let out a long, loud groan of pleasure that empties your lungs.

Being so full of him makes you speechless. His grip on your hips tightens as you start to move, riding him. You roll your head back as your hands rest on his chest and slowly trail towards his sides. You rarely ever see him from this perspective, you being in control of the rhythm of the thrusts and looking at his naked body under yours. You know his dominance is just dormant, he's letting you have a little bit of fun before it crawls out again, making you remember who is actually in charge - him. He loves to see you being in control right now, seeing how you handle him, the many ways you find to tease him, driving him insane. The thought of dominating such a menacing, dangerous man makes you afire with lust. Maker, you’re enjoying it so much that you dig your nails into his hips, scratching him, making him hiss, blending pleasure and pain in such a perfect way. His hips rock against yours, pushing his cock even deeper inside of you, making you gasp, leaving you breathless.

He grabs the oil bottle and pours some of it on your breasts, looking at the way the viscous fluid drips from your nipples to your belly. He then starts to massage them, groping and squeezing them in his hands as he starts to violently thrust into you, heavily aroused at the sight of your oiled, glistening body.

He lets out groans of pleasure and you can see his core tightening, the veins above his cock getting more pronounced. Seeing the shape of his abs sends a hot spark to your core and you put your hands on his, so as to squeeze your boobs even harder, and keep riding him in fluid motions rolling your hips.

"Oh, fuck, you've never been hotter than this. Riding my dick like a princess warrior, taming me like I'm a wild animal, all while looking so hot. I want to stick it so deep inside of you. I want to come inside of you so hard. Fucking hell, tell me you want it. Tell me you want all my cum in that beautiful cunt." he says in an adoring voice.

Your body is shaking as it's getting dangerously close to your orgasm. "I want it. Please come inside me. Please go on. Don't stop, Mando. Oh, please make me come. I'm so, so close." you beg him.

"Damn, I can feel it getting tighter. So hot and wet for me, pretty girl. You're mine. My little whore. Gonna make you come so hard and then I'll fill you. Come. Come riding my cock, mesh’la."

You keep riding him, a few more thrusts and you come just like that, pleasure slowly building up until you reach your climax, your head rolling back and your mouth letting out the most filthy, nasty, loud groans of pleasure, as your hands grip his even tighter on your breasts, sustaining you. Everything turns black and only the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm exists in your world. You hear his voice, muffled and far away as you are absorbed by your own devastating pleasure, as it goes on muttering filth about how beautiful you look when you come riding his cock and how he has to restrain himself from bursting inside of you in this very moment because he wants to keep fucking your hot pussy.

After you ride out your orgasm and come back to your senses, you feel so worn out. You're panting, but you don’t stop riding him. He is so pleased to see that, and you also know he’s close too.

"I saw a hot spring before coming here. Did you see that?" you drawl, still panting.

"I-I did."

"I want you to fuck me there, in front of everyone. I know you want it too."

He grunts as he picks up the pace, aroused beyond limit at the mere thought.

"Let them see how good you fuck me, in a way they could never."

"F-fuck - Pretty girl - s-stop saying those things or I'm not gonna last-"

"Show them. Show them who I fucking belong to." you scratch his chest with your nails in your animalistic frenzy.

He snarls, wrapping his strong arms around your body, lowering your body on his and his pace picks up even more, making you roll your eyes and scream, your oiled bodies rubbing against each other, creating the most obscene sounds.

"Oh, you want to be fucked like this? In front of everyone? Remind them how they could never make you scream like I do? How they could never make you feel this good? How if they ever dare to touch you I'm gonna kill them with my bare hands?"

"Fuck, yes! Yes! Yes!" you scream in his chest, holding tight to his biceps, completely subjugated by the way he's handling you.

"What a fucking whore you are. I'll fuck you in front of everyone and remind them you're fucking mine." he grabs your butt, digging his fingers hard into the soft flesh and starts railing you violently, leaving you breathless. You just helplessly grab his oiled biceps harder, screaming loudly in his chest, your eyes completely rolled back. He's pulling another orgasm from you, and somehow it's even harder and more intense than the first one. Your pussy gets even tighter and starts uncontrollably spasming and you feel every single ridge and vein of his dick as he thrusts into you with a devastating force.

He's overwhelmed by the even tighter feeling, and he screams when he finally comes inside of you, cursing at how tight you are, how good it feels to have his dick in your grasp, how he can't ever get enough of you...

As you both ride out your orgasms, you just lay there, panting into his chest as he's still inside of you and caresses your back, completely exhausted, until both of your breathing goes back to normal, whispering tender words to each other as you enjoy the contact of your naked bodies.

The hot springs are the second main attraction of the healing baths, and for a good reason.

The water is naturally hot due to the volcanic nature of Nevarro and the luxurious room is dimly lit by candles, making the atmosphere suggestive and intimate. The walls are decorated with mirrors all over the surface to guarantee the best visual on everything that happens there. Some of the people present there are indulging in sexual behaviours, while others are just watching.

You two are too focused on each other to even think of paying attention to others. The sight of the Mandalorian’s gorgeous body only covered by a towel on his hips drives you wild and makes you ravenous with lust, and you know by the way he's tilting the helmet that he feels the same way. You undress each other slowly, letting your towels drop to the floor. You can see his cock is slowly getting hard once again at the sight of your oiled body, now bare in front of everyone.

He takes you by the hand as you climb the stairs down to get into the water and sit.

You go behind him and start massaging his back, cleaning his skin from the oil you used before, brushing him with your breasts as you go on massaging his shoulders, making him feel worshipped by your touch and adoring eyes. You cover his neck in kisses as you caress his strong arms.

Mando's visor does not abandon the mirror that reflects the both of you for one second, wanting to look at the way you take care of him so lovingly.

You move in front of him and start washing his chest, when he grabs your hand and puts it on his rock hard erection. You grin satisfied when you feel he's hard for you again and he starts touching one of your breasts, still oiled, making your nipple hard by circling it with his thumb.

He turns you around and starts trailing his hands all over your body, making you look at the image reflected in the mirror.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he whispers as he gropes your breasts, squeezing them in his strong hands. You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder, looking at your barely visible figure lit by the candles of the thermal spring.

"All these men are looking at you, you know that?" he whispers in your ear. "How does that make you feel?"

The truth is you don’t feel uneasy, in fact it's quite the opposite, you feel beautiful and protected, but most of all, you feel powerful. Powerful in a unique, feminine way. You’re a goddess worshipped and loved by the most frightening warrior of the parsec. Nothing bad can happen to you while his hands softly caress your curves and he whispers the sweetest, dirtiest words into your ear. You really do feel beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.

His hands start descending towards your abdomen and then lower, caressing your folds, indulging on your outer lips, slowly teasing you and exploring your beautiful cunt as his visor is locked on you.

"Who do you belong to?" he whispers as one of his hands touches your clit and the other one circles one of your nipples.

"You." there's no hesitation in your voice.

"Good girl." he stands up, bringing you with him, then takes his cock in his hand and slowly slides it inside of you. Air leaves your lungs completely as you let out a moan that makes quite a few heads turn.

"Yes. Let them know. Let them look at you." he encourages you to abandon yourself completely.

He lifts your leg with his arm, spreading your cunt open to show everyone the way his thick cock slips inside of you with every thrust.

"You're by far the best whore out here. Stars, can't ever imagine fucking a more perfect cunt. Let everyone hear how good I'm fucking you. Let them know you're only mine. They can hear and look at you as much as they want, but only I can touch your body and fuck your wet cunt. You belong to me. If anybody ever touches you, I'm going to fucking kill them." he does not only want to assert his dominance over you, he also wants you to enjoy it, to make you feel protected as he fucks you while you just have to take his cock and not worry about anything else.

"No one could ever make me feel this good, Mando." you let out in a shaky, breathy voice.

"Yes, cyar'ika, like this." he wraps his hand around your neck.

At first his thrusts are painfully, deliciously slow and you can't help resting your head on his shoulder, moaning close to his ear. He slowly picks up the pace until he's pounding you hard, making a lot of sloshing sounds in the water, making you scream, making everyone look at you two.

"Fucking look at her. Look at that perfect cunt. Hear her scream. Hear how fucking good I'm fucking her. She's fucking mine. Mine. Only mine." he snarls at all the men there who have been looking at you the whole time, thinking they might own you.

"Mando - oh, f-fuck - s-stop saying those things-" you whisper, pretending to be shy, but loving being treated like his whore, your body completely exposed to all the other people in there, feeling their envy eyes on you both.

"I will say whatever the fuck I want about you. Because I fucking own you. Did you hear that?! I fucking own her." he growls like a vicious animal while grabbing your throat even tighter.

And when you thought you couldn't get any more aroused, he starts to rub your clit. You lose it completely and let out desperate, loud groans.

"Want to come like this? In front of everyone? Let them know how much of a slut you are?"

"Yes!" you plead in a desperate, loud cry.

"Then come. Come for me. Scream my name and let everyone know who is making you come so hard."

You do. You scream the only name you know of him in a loud cry, as your cunt desperately clenches around his throbbing erection.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Come on my cock. Stars, you're so beautiful, ner cyar'ika."

Your screams echo in the thermal bath as you feel the eyes of every single person on you two. He never stops looking at your face as you come, entranced by how stunning you look when he takes you to the highest pleasure, in a state of pure ecstasy. He feels your muscles clenching around his cock, your swollen clit under his fingers and your yielding body leaning on his. The sounds you make are the most beautiful and heady he's ever heard, he's addicted to how sweet your voice sounds when you moan his name in the ecstatic trance of your orgasm.

After you come back from your high, you lean on one side of the bath, panting, bent in half as he keeps thrusting into you from behind.

"I want to come all over your pretty face and I want you to eat it all. Show them who you belong to." he keeps thrusting into you as he grips your hair.

“Do it. Come on my face.” you pant, completely exhausted.

He gets feral when he hears that, and in an instant he takes his cock out and turns you around, stroking it with his hand.

“Give this filthy whore what she deserves.” you smirk at him.

He grunts as he hears you saying that, stroking his cock even harder.

"Open your mouth for me, mesh'la." You do, and you also stick out your tongue. You look at him stroking his soaking wet dick in front of your face. You close your eyes as you feel his hot release painting your face, hearing him groan loudly.

When he's done coming, you take his cock into your mouth and suck it clean, earning a grunt from him.

You pass your finger on your face and bring all his cum to your mouth, savouring it for his pleasure.

"What an obedient little whore you are." 

"Your whore, Mando." you smile at him as you swallow his seed.

[ctrlmay]

“Pages of Passion”

Warnings: smut

Word count: 1.2k

Your face has been buried in a book you've been reading lately. Since you got it, you haven't put it down, spending the past few days in various spots around your home, reading from sunup to sundown. As the plot thickens, your reading intensifies, and you escape from reality, traveling to wherever the book takes place leaving your boyfriend behind.

Today, you were in your usual spot. Your boyfriend watched you from the entrance of your shared bedroom, leaning on the frame and observing you as you sat with your legs propped up and your book resting on them, on the side of the bed closest to the window; You were reading, bathing in the sunlight that peered down on you as if you were a character in a film.

He missed his lover and hoped that today he could get you to put your book down. He let out a fake cough, expecting a reaction from you but you remained glued to your book, blocking out your surroundings.

He had no choice but to approach the bed and climb on top of your reclined position, hovering over you until you looked up from your book. Even then, he waited and you still showed no reaction to his presence. He frowned, saddened by how intently you were ignoring him, knowing that you were capable of hearing and seeing him. Taking matters into his own hands, he pointed your book down with his finger, giving you no choice but to look at him.

With your attention finally on him, it only took him a second to get into character.

"Y/nnn~" he whined, turning on his side to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. "Why are you ignoring me?" You looked at your boyfriend with a bored expression, finding him far less entertaining than your book. Glancing at him for a second, you then returned to your book, responding plainly, "I'm reading."

"You've been reading all day. I miss you," he complained, attempting to steal your attention by kissing up and down your neck. You allowed him to but still didn't pay him any mind and continued reading.

After a few moments of keeping himself busy by nibbling at your earlobe and lightly biting your neck, he realized he was only punishing himself. He didn't know how or why. Maybe it was because you were ignoring him and making him beg for your attention. But he has grown horny and his aching cock has grown in size.

“Fuck, Look what you do to me.” You peek from under your book to a grand view of your boyfriend's hard-on bulging out of his sweats. Your eyes widening slightly.

"Will you help me, doll?" he pleads, taking your hand and palming his throbbing bulge through his pants, his gaze glossy as he looks into your eyes, seeking aid from you. With this, he has finally captured your attention. You've never seen him act this way before, so you're curious to see how it will all unfold. Playing the long game, you pretend to lose interest and turn back to your book, ignoring your needy boyfriend.

"You're just going to keep ignoring me?" He questions in a hushed whisper, his breath hitting your ear, enough to feel the heat in his voice. You can tell he's on the verge of breaking, but you're unsure how long you can keep up this act before he breaks you.

Although a bit nervous, you stick to your plan and nudge your boyfriend with your shoulder, shrugging him off with a cold, "Get off of me."

With another push, you successfully push him away, leaving him astonished. He stares at you in disbelief, never having seen you act so harshly toward him before. All he wants is a little attention, and you're pushing him away. It's so... Sexy.

You're being harsh, but your words only add fuel to the fire. The fire in his pants, in his heart. He doesn't know exactly why you're acting this way, but he knows that he's loving it.

"Please, baby, I need you," his voice comes out soft, in a hushed tone as a plea for your help, serenading you to finally look up at him. Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze.

"If I help you, will you let me read in peace?" you question, earning an eager nod from him in response. “Ok, pull your dick out.”

He tries to hide the grin spreading across his face but fails, as his eagerness is clearly displayed as he takes his place next to you; lying down on his back, quickly undoing the knot in the strings of his sweatpants and pulling them down enough for his dick to spring free.

As his member comes into view, fully erect and already leaking in excitement, you become aware of how needy and obedient your boyfriend can become when pushed to his limit. You would have to do this more often.

Holding your book in one hand, you use your other hand to gently wrap around his length, hearing his breath hitch and his body tremble. You continue to stroke him, taking your time traveling up and down his shaft, savoring how he moans your name while you gently stroke him and graze his tip, using his pre-cum as lube.

"Fuck, just like that.” Delighted, you watch him squirm under your touch. Leaning in, you place a soft kiss on his cheek. He then tries to meet your lips but is only met with the cold air as you move your face away, redirecting your attention back to your book while lazily stroking him.

"Shit," he mutters in frustration, his whimpers filling the air. He's lost your attention, but somehow you've kept him captivated, still maintaining your same pace. He feels his climax approaching and desperately bucks his hips into your hand, matching your pace. Inhaling sharply, he gets ready to release all over your hand. But just as the tension builds, your pace starts to waver. Your concentration has shifted to the thrilling climax unfolding before you, held in the other hand that occupies your book. Your stroking becomes painfully slow for him, delaying his climax. His breath became ragged and His body tenses beneath your touch as you maintain the slow and steady pace denying him the release he desired.

He reaches his hand toward yours, desperate to make you move your hand. For the first time, your eyes flicker from your book to him as you swat his hand away, delivering a stern warning, "No touching." You then return your attention to your book, maintaining the same slow pace, and denying him the release he desires.

"Please, I- shit, wanna cum."

"Then cum." You spat. Your boyfriend's whines and moans become mere white noise as you read the last bit of your book. The protagonist and the antagonist are engaged in their final battle. The anticipation from the book causes you to tighten your grip on his cock, pumping faster just as the story intensifies. He moans and writhes beneath you, the sudden stimulation driving him towards another release.

As the protagonist swings his sword, your boyfriend throws his head back in pleasure. The sword strikes at its intended target, and he arches his back, a symphony of pleasure echoing from deep within him.

In perfect harmony, his release aligns with the moment of the antagonist's defeat.

[reigenkills]

yes this has plot now yes this might be longer than i planned it to be dont fucking look at me

ao3 | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | 7 | 8

The father sends you off with a gift basket of vegetables and a bottle of wine for your help. He insisted, even after you refused, stating that you hadn't needed to visit and offer your services after he'd drunkenly harassed you the other night.

Death ditches you as soon as it starts raining, the prick, and you have to rush back to your inn drenched in rainwater. The innkeeper clicks her tongue over your state and ushers you into a warm bath, readying the fireplace for you to warm up by as soon as you're out. You end up falling asleep on one of the couches right by it, dozing away underneath a heavy, well-worn quilt.

You wake up to loud knocks on the front door the next morning. You tiredly open your eyes to see the innkeeper open the door to talk to someone, though their voices are way too far for you to clearly hear. Yawning, you stretch your arms, rising to sit back against the couch.

You can already feel the beginnings of a cold starting. Ugh. And you still had research work to do for Elrick's family. You run a hand over your face.

Right. Look for the spellcaster that made the spindle curse, which means look into the recent business contracts of Elrick's love's family, which means look into said love's family, which means look into Elrick's love. Fantastic.

You take a shower to wake yourself up. The innkeeper is nice enough to tell you she'll bring breakfast up for you, so you take your time standing under the hot water to shake as much fatigue off your muscles as you can. Your red cloak's still drying on the clothesline out back, so you'll have to ditch it and go with your regular clothes for now.

You return to your room to find your breakfast being pillaged by the massive wolf sitting on your bed.

"Fuck off!" You toss a boot at Death, since you'd grabbed your pair from the closet to lace up when you headed out. He catches it in mid-air without looking. "You don't even need to eat!"

"Says who?"

"You're Death!" You march forward to snatch your plate away from him. He tosses your boot right back at you, forcing you to duck. "What the fuck are you even doing here?"

"Business," he says.

"Then go collect the soul of whatever poor bastard kicked the bucket yesterday." You drop your other boot in favor of hurriedly shoveling food into your mouth, just in case he takes your plate from you again. "I'unno why you keep pestering me."

"Schadenfreude," he says. "You're annoying. I want to see you get put in a jar and shaken around."

You sneer at him. "I hope you get put in a jar and shaken around."

You finish your breakfast in record time, quickly putting on your boots to head downstairs for whatever bullshit involving death and gloom you're about to find yourself in if the wolf himself is here. There are two women waiting by the fireplace, both of them talking to the innkeeper with hushed tones and wringing hands. All of them stop at the sight of you on the staircase.

You have to stop yourself from turning around to see if they can see Death, but they make no mention of the wolf looming behind your shoulder. "Yes?"

"We heard from the Huntsman down the road," one of the old ladies says. "He says you know how to use magic?"

Oh boy.

Turns out the ladies' niece is sick. Has been sick for about a month, and none of the doctors can figure out what's wrong with her. With the scarcity of witches in town, they haven't been able to turn to magic for help, and so they'd decided to seek you out after they'd heard from their neighbor.

"We don't have much, but we're seamstresses," they say. "We would be indebted you, and we'll fix all your garments without charge."

"At…at least let me see what's wrong first," you say, because with Death hovering around, you have a sneaking suspicion that one of these old ladies is gonna offer her remaining life up for her niece, and you're not really keen on helping that along today.

Their house is a short walk from the inn. It's a nice sunny day out, a welcome change from the storm last night. You're welcomed into a small two-storey house a little ways off the main road, and led up to a child's room where a little girl lies asleep on her bed, feverish. Her mother and father are sitting by her bedside, tired looks on their faces.

They turn as you enter the room, glancing to their aunts with hopeful expressions. Ah fuck.

"Okay," you say, mostly to yourself, and then clear your throat to address everyone else. "Tell me what's wrong with her."

It's an issue of health. The little girl has always been frail since she's been born, and during a spike of ill weather a month ago, her health had taken a turn for the worse and she's never recovered. Your heart clenches as the mother recounts everything, breaking into sobs halfway through and leaning on her husband. You sit awkwardly on a chair beside the bed, listening to her crying. Death stands at the foot of the child's bed, silent, the picturesque Grim Reaper waiting to collect someone's soul.

But he's clearly not here to do so just yet. It's not time. He's waiting, and he's here to see if you're going to do anything to buy the girl some time.

You sigh and give the family their options, as best as you can.

"Here's my suggestion," you say, after you've told them about the Fountain of Youth and the Crossroads Deal. "We buy some time for you daughter, and then one of you travels to Far Far Away. There are more witches there, ones who can help with restoring health. This isn't my usual line of work, so I can't make your daughter magically well."

"Can you search for us?" the father asks.

"I'm afraid I'm already trying to search for someone else's problem," you say, and his face falls. These people have no knowledge of where to find witches when they've lived in a place so derived of them, and with so little time to save their daughter,  you can understand their anxiety.

You glance towards the girl. In the corner of your eye, you notice Death raising an eyebrow. You sigh.

"Okay," you say. "I'll…try to look for someone who can help." You try not to look at the couple's bright smiles as you take out your spellbook (you guess it really is yours now) to flip for the page to the Fountain of Youth. 

As you walk the couple through the steps for the spell, you try to ignore Death's gaze bearing down on you.

-

You grab lunch on the road so you can start your search into Elrick's affair first. Death had left after the Fountain of Youth exchange, and you relax at the sudden freedom from his judging stare. You start with interrogating Muffet about everything she knows about the situation, asking for names and addresses of her sources, and then go to investigate those sources afterwards.

By sunset, you think you have a decent grasp of the picture. The family you're dealing with is some old money bloodline that used to sell fabric to Duloc's old royalty. Ever since the collapse of the Farquaad line, they've been struggling to keep afloat, and are not entertaining commoners getting involved with their daughter. As some of the people you've interviewed are staff or family members of staff who work at this estate, you think the news of the girl being sent away in a tower is pretty reliable.

So that's a bust, as you'd thought it would be. No way you're getting her back to Poisonapple in nine days. Finding the original spellcaster to break the curse might just be as difficult, as according to everyone, the spindle that Elrick pricked himself on was just a regular spinning wheel. 

Magic. With all its clauses and implications and high specifications. The curse was probably something like as long as he pricks himself on something sharp and didn't really need a spindle. Kinda like how your curse needs words to be worded as a command, because requests never work. 

Well, you're heading to Far Far Away, you suppose. First to find a witch that can help with restoring health and another with a specialty in analyzing intricate spellwork to find a loophole. There has to be one. They used to televise princess christenings, and everyone saw the mess that happened with Sleeping Beauty. 

You grab dinner at the pub and pack up what little belongings you have, check that your weapons are in top shape in case you meet trouble on the road, and head out.

One day down, eight more remaining.

-

Far Far Away is several days away from Poisonapple and is terribly…loud. Loud and bright and bombastic. You're no stranger to bustling cities - you've worked many a job at Del Mar and their rambunctious parties. But Far Far Away is…

Well, there's 3d magical ads on billboards about perfumes and cheeses and all sorts of stuff every which way you turn. Bright, moving posters are plastered on every surface you can find. Television screens blast shows from the display windows you pass by. You've been in cities, but Far Far Away is a city-city.

Which means as soon as you start asking for a witch, several hundred people immediately start pulling you in several different directions.

"Would you like to get your future told? I can tell you your future career for a cheap price! And if you get the premium package, I can tell you what your future spouse is like -"

"She's a fraud! Don't listen to her, she ain't even a witch, she's a fortune teller. Now you follow me, lovely, I'm a witch, and if you get the Gold Plan of my services - "

"You're the fraud. None'a you lot even know what a fuckin' witch is anymore. I'm the actual witch here, descended from a long bloodline of -"

"Nobody gives a shit about your ma or your ma's ma and whatever broom they rode in."

"Why you - !"

It takes you thirty minutes to escape their grabbing hands and sprint away from their vicinity. Far Far Away, it turns out, has a thriving magical community, and a 'witch district', as locals call it. It's a long stretch of road that's nothing but magic shops, with sellers of magical items (both real and fake) and all sorts of magic users.

But you don't need a fortune teller, or whoever's gonna sell you which premium plan of their services. You need someone who can help a sick child, preferably a witch who specializes in herb or sky magic, and someone who can deconstruct a curse, which means you're looking for a wizard. Or a mage with a specificity in curse magic. Depends on who you can find, you're not picky. You've arrived at Far Far Away at noon, day four of your nine-day deadline; you've only got so many hours to spare.

You check in at the cheapest inn you can find, get a map of the city, and begin your usual interviewing. You introduce yourself as a traveler, sent in by your relatives to find a cure for your sick baby sister. There are a lot of fake magic users in town, you know that - it's a tourist town, after all - so hopefully, this will help narrow down your pool of options. 

The innkeeper is nice enough to mark your map to show you shops he personally trusts. Several of them, unfortunately, are inventory shops, and only about six of them are for magic users. You thank him for his time anyway, and spend the next few hours visiting one shop after the other. 

The inventory shops are legitimate, as far as you can tell, but their wares are more on the safe, legal side (so nobody can start slinging curses at each other). As for the people you visit, only two of them are of any help. One is a specialist in potions, the other in Earth magic. Close enough to what you were looking for.

They both know each other too, which is convenient. You invite them to dinner to discuss your problem and hope that the hefty chunk of your savings (and the girl's family's promise of free seamstress services) will be enough to persuade them to help you.

At six o'clock, both of them close down shop and meet you at The Wooden Eye, a small pub in the quieter side of town. You buy them drinks and food, hoping to get on their good side, before you recount to them exactly what's happened in Poisonapple that you need their help with.

Gertrude, the potions specialist, falls silent after your tale. Madeleine, the earth witch, puts a hand over her mouth as concern flits across her face.

"Oh, dear," she says. "I…am not sure how much I can help outside of advising them on dietary needs as supplements."

"Isn't Earth magic Life magic?" you ask.

"It is, but we still have specializations. It's not a catch-all thing. I work with plants, how to use them for divination, for healing, for protection. I make hex bags, talismans, healing poultices." She sighs. "I can't completely upturn a child's biological disposition, and thorough healing isn't my specialty. You need a sky witch for that."

"I can help make potions to keep the kid going for a bit, but it's not a permanent cure. It'll be like…taking vitamins, daily treatments." She shrugs. "Sort of like what Maddie can do."

"No, no, that's plenty of help," you say. "She can have a long life with steady treatment, yes?"

Both girls turn to each other. They nod, and say, "Yes."

You breathe out a sigh of relief. That's wonderful news. Better than you can ask for. You just need to convince them to help.

"Would you be amicable for travel?" you ask.

You need them to talk to the family in Poisonapple so they can have their own arrangement. You're a mercenary, after all, not an errand runner. You're gonna pick up a long job somewhere far one day, and you're not gonna be there as their middle man. You offer to pay for their fare back to the village, hand them a map and some instructions, and they thankfully, thankfully, agree.

Now for Elrick.

"I suppose you wouldn't know any wizards in town?" you ask. "I still have one other person I'm here on a job for."

"Last wizard who lived here moved far down the south continent to take care of her mom," Gertrude says. "What do you need help with? Maybe someone else in town can do it."

"I need a curse broken but we can't find the original spellcaster. True Love's Kiss is out of the options too," you say, taking a sip of your drink. "Some kid got cursed by a rich family for getting too close to their daughter."

Both of them wince.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll need a wizard to deconstruct the curse," Madeleine says. "Ain't there a mage at the Forbidden Forest though, Gerry?"

"He doesn't work with curses." Gertrude shakes her head, and to you, says: "Sorry."

"It's fine," you say. You have several leads anyway, all you need to do is chase them. You can pay a visit to the Forbidden Forest tomorrow.

You and the girls finish up your meal before you bid each other goodbye. You leave the pub, hunt down the nearest expedited magic mail service you can find to send a message to both families you're on the job for. Good news for the little girl's family, and a lead for Elrick's.

Hopefully the young boy's brother and father can be patient just a bit longer. Four days down, three left.

taglist:

@karenbomi @snail-noodle @allthenamesithinkofaretaken @lunamaye @lennnnnnnnn @nixeustheclamity @livdem1human @elasticelaine @mooncutiepie @lyslvnchry @spiritofboredom @kult-o @fuckthepatriachs @leoneisdying @briddy13 @barnesmorningstar25 @bitchadonis @charafrisk1 @crypticmushroom @kittycatcreatster @lumiiiiiiiiii

[alwaysforevermaybenever]

WHATOBER 2, 2023: SLIPPER FLOATIN' DOWN A RIVER

× cw: just fluff dw 👌; written with fem and shorter than yanderes reader in mind but can also be gender neutral, petname (Angel)

× note: hello hello these are two new yanderes i am introducing without an introduction. they are a package deal a 2-in-1 bargain a buy one get one free sale. based on my actual childhood friends minus to romance

You watch your childhood best friends, Alister and Ethan, as they play in the small yet fast moving river in the middle of the forest. It’s a special for the three of you - your secret meeting spot that even the adults are unaware of. You watch by the river bank, sitting on a tree stump which Ethan laid his handkerchief on for you to sit on as a sort of cushion. The two teenage boys laugh as they splash around barefoot in the middle of the river, pants rolled up and faces and hands already wet. You quietly watch them, listening to their mindless chatter about what had happened in the past week or something.

Eventually, Ethan looks up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Angel,” he calls, using their nickname for you. “Come and join us! It’s fuuuuun,” he draws out the vowel, hoping to somehow entice you into the water with his wiggling eyebrows and a smile that couldn’t hold any innocent intentions. This catches Alister’s attention, who looks up from a pebble he was inspecting, a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

“Nope,” you shake your head adamantly, staying rooted to your seat on the tree stump. “I don’t want to get my clothes wet. Besides, I don’t want to bathe again after this.” That’s one of the reasons, but the other is that you really, really don’t want to be a part of whatever plot they're concocting. Last time you got involved, the principal's hair was dyed hot pink for a month.

Alister doesn’t say anything, but he drops the pebble in favour of cupping his hands in the water, and you have a mild suspicion of what’s going to happen next. He merely smiles, not moving his body an inch. You watch him carefully, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Unfortunately, you didn’t keep an eye on the co-conspirators: Ethan.

Your penalty is a cold shower of water droplets, splattering against your side and face. Letting out a small scream in shock, you whip your head to glare at Ethan, who’s doubled over from laughing. This only serves as an opportunity for Alister to spatter you with water, causing your clothes to become damp on both sides. 

“Hey!” you complain, shading your eyes from the impromptu shower by your so-called friends. Honestly , the only thing boys like them are good for is opening bottle caps you can’t and reaching for stuff on high shelves out of your reach. “Stop that.” Both Ethan and Alister pay no heed to your words, continuing to flick water at you with their hands (they aren’t that mean as to completely drench you in water - only so much so that your clothes will dry within minutes).

Spotting two pairs of slippers, an idea pops into your mind - you know how to make them stop! Without a word, you pick one slipper. The boys must have an idea of what you plan to do, because they immediately cease all teasing. 

“Hey…” Ethan smiles nervously, hands outstretched as a safety precaution. “It was all just fun and games, you know?”

Alister looks even more uneasy, mostly because it’s his slipper you're holding. “C’mon, Angel. We won’t play anymore, okay?” He’s slowly inching towards dry ground, hoping to catch his slipper should you attempt to throw it without a second though.

You huff, and drop the slipper onto the ground and turn your heel, marching away from the forest river. You hear some splashing, and before you know it, their long legs easily catch up with your shorter ones. 

“We’re sorry, Angel,” Ethan pouts from your left, swinging his muscled arm around you, subtly rubbing your shoulder with his thumb.

“Won’t you forgive us?” continues Alister softly, gently taking your hand into his, cradling it like some sacred treasure.

You click your tongue. Life with them is like this on an hourly basis.

[eyelessfaces]

delightful mornings

llewyn davis x reader

summary: what's better than starting the day by llewyn taking care of you as soon as you wake up?

warnings: smut, literally just smut the plot is barely even there, handjob, teasing, edging, implied oral (reader receiving)

tags: gn!afab!reader, no pronouns just anatomy, reader has boobs, llewyn is an absolute menace, llewyn gets none lol sorry baby

word count: 0.8k

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

Llewyn hums and kisses your neck softly in an attempt to wake you up, unaware that you're already awake. You open your eyes leisurely and the sun is peeking through the thin curtains, bathing the bedroom in a nice lighting. You think the scene would look perfect on a painting.

Llewyn plants small kisses to your bare shoulder, running his hand along your arm, and his beard gently scratches your shoulder blade, making you giggle at the feeling. You're exposed now, so you turn to him and smile softly. You lean in to place a quick kiss on his lips.

"How long were you gonna make me keep me going?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow behind the curls falling over his forehead.

You grin at him and brush the hair away from his face.

"As long as needed to see how far you would go" you say biting down at your lip, stroking his cheek and beard with the back of your fingers.

He chuckles softly, and his hand shifts from your arm to your belly, and goes up to cup your breast. You gasp softly at the sudden feeling, and you see him grin mischeviously as he carefully draws his thumb to trace up and down your nipple. Your naked body shivers, and you know for a fact that it's not from the lack of clothes.

"Unfair" you whisper, turning your face away as he continues to gently brush his finger against your skin.

"This is what you get for making a fool of me." he murmurs in the shell of your ear, before leaving a kiss at your jawline.

You whimper softly at his touch and teasing, but slowly shift your ass back, wanting him to get a taste of his own game. The events of the night before had left the both of you bottomless, and it was the best occasion to take advantage of the situation. You gradually move back to meet his cock, but silently gasp when his strong, cold hand blocks your ass.

He tuts softly. "I know what you're tryna do" he breathes under your ear, squeezing on the thick flesh of your buttcheek. His hand shifts to the inside of your thigh, and he delicately rubs the skin there. "You're not playing nice baby" he whispers before leaving a trail of kisses up and down your neck.

He lingers there, softly nibbling on your skin, while his hand meets your soaking core. You moan as he slides a finger through your folds to meet your clit, and he slowly starts rubbing small circles over it. You instantly let out a weak whine, burying your face in your pillow. His guitarist hands were well trained, and he knew how fast they could make you fall apart. And he was a smug bastard about it.

His movements accelerate, and you can't help but breathe out his name as he works you up. You can feel his beard graze against your skin, knowing that he's smirking, so proud of how he's making you feel. His chest is pressed against your back and he nuzzles your neck, burying his face here, focused on his movements and on your soft whimpers.

"Llewyn- please" you whine as your body jolts softly.

"What, baby?" he asks naively, pretending to be unaware of the effect his fingers had on you.

"I- I'm gonna cum if- if you keep it at this- at this pace" you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut as you could feel your orgasm building so fast.

"So soon?" he asks with taunt poisoning his voice, completely stopping any action, his hand moving away from your crotch.

Your face drops at the sudden lack of pressure against your clit, and you turn to lay on your back fully, speechless. You blink a few times, the feeling of your building orgasm leaving progressively.

"You didn't..." you mutter under your breath, trying to catch it. You whine loudly at the absence of his touch, and he is just there besides you, propped on his elbow, smugly smiling about leaving you on the edge.

He is the one not playing nice.

You desperately bring a hand to your forehead, slowly coming back to your senses and you nudge his chest in frustration.

"Ouch!" he exclaims, bringing his hand where you hit him.

"We're not even close to being even" you mutter, genuinely mad at him for leaving you like that.

"Sorry" he smiles softly, placing himself over your body before holding your face to tenderly kiss your lips. You whine against his mouth in frustration, and his lips trail down to your neck, sternum, and finally stop at your stomach, leaving delicate kisses on your hot skin. His thick and disheveled curls softly tickle your breasts and you sigh as you unwillingly decide to still run your hand through his hair after all.

He looks up at you and grins as he gently caresses either sides of your hips with his thumbs before shifting lower and diving his pretty face in between your thighs.

He was a cocky bastard, but you loved when your day started this way.

---

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

[giorno-plays-piano]

Would You Have It Any Other Way?

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x reader

Warnings: yandere, post noncon, kinda Stockholm Syndrome, threats, Shigaraki and reader taking a bath together.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: "You will never ever whore yourself to any pretty hero, you hear me?" His wicked whisper makes shivers run down your spine, and you struggle to look him in the eyes. "I'm the best you gonna get, so get over the way I look."

P.S. This is kinda a sequel to this story, but you don't have to read it to understand the plot.

______

Shigaraki hates taking a bath. A nihilist to the core, he sees no need in any comfort, and a quick cold shower to wash away the dirt and blood is his absolute maximum. You can't even tell how much time and efforts you spent to get this psychopatic manchild into a bathtub, but, finally, he's laying there quietly as you sit behind him and rub shampoo into his wild hair.

He stares mindlessly at the ceiling, and you think that even someone like him can appreciate the pleasure of being in someone's care. You're very gentle, pouring warm water on his head and shoulders, massaging his scalp as you run your fingers through his messy hair, doing your best to untangle them carefully because Shigaraki literally looks like a wild dog.

Letting out a loud sigh, he tilts his head back and stares at you when you're already washing away the shampoo, satisfied with your work.

"How about you blow me off after this?" he asks you nonchalantly, and you grimace, looming over him.

"After all I've been doing for you? Don't you think it's you who should be blowing me off, huh?" Your irritation is obvious, but Shigaraki doesn't seem to mind as he snickers, and you see his bared teeth.

"Alright."

Huffing and puffing, you take a small jar from a shelf and come back to him, opening it to smear a fruit smelling balm on his cracked lips. You swear one day, when he'll be driven completely crazy, he might eat them till there's no flesh left.

It doesn't take Shigaraki too much time to sneer and look at you with suspicion, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to make you look human," you roll your eyes while spreading the balm onto his skin, "I don't want to get cut with these lips of yours."

"Oh? Since when do you care how I look?"

You feel something dangerous in his voice, realizing you are on shaky ground. What the hell? What triggered this psycho again? You can't believe it has something to do with his appearance. Shigaraki can't care less about his body as long as it functions and moves him from one place to the other.

"Do you feel ashamed of how ugly your boyfriend is? You didn't seem to mind it yesterday night."

Now you hear Tomura is fucking angry, and it's never, never good for you. You have no idea what he's gonna do, but you don't wanna find out.

You grunt, "If I cared about having a pretty boyfriend, I'd date someone like Hawks."

"How the fuck do I know who you dated while you were out there with the heroes?"

He is holding to the edges of the bath, watching that not all his fingers touch them, but his gaze is directed at you, and it's so full of hatred it physically hurts. Getting up, he grabs you by the back of your neck roughly, bringing your face closer, and you gasp, wincing from the strength of his grip.

When his lips touch yours, it's something between a kiss and a bite: it's painful and forceful, but you don't try to fight him, letting him take out his frustration on you because it's better to submit to him now rather when Shigaraki's going feral. You lick his tongue as he grasps your hair in his hand painfully, the balm on his cracked lips getting smeared onto yours, too. Kissing him until he finally lets you go, completely out of breath, you inhale loudly, blood rushing to your head and making you feel dizzy.

"You will never ever whore yourself to any pretty hero, you hear me?" His wicked whisper makes shivers run down your spine, and you struggle to look him in the eyes. "I'm the best you gonna get, so get over the way I look."

You don't need to be reminded you're literally chained to him, unable to even leave the premises unless Tomura's going with you. In fact, you're very lucky he let you live the night when you were caught, keeping you at his side as his "girlfriend". Moreover, others took you back without a single word as if you had never left them for heroes, and a part of you still felt guilty for betraying them. If you left heroes for villains and then came back, Endeavor would burn you to ashes himself, regardless of your excuses.

It's not that bad here, you think when you look at Shigaraki, his hand still grabbing your hair. If you don't make him angry, it's not that bad.

Then you think you know why he's getting all riled up because of some stupid balm: the thought of you not wanting to be at his side for whatever reason drives him mad. The thought of being rejected by someone who absolutely has to be with him is a thing that will always make him lose his mind.

"I put a balm on your lips because I like to kiss," you grunt, closing your eyes with a sigh, "and it's more pleasant to kiss you if your lips are soft."

There's an awkward silence as you wait for him to say anything, but Shigaraki doesn't speak, just letting go of your hair so you can finally take a more comfortable position as you sit back, taking a breath. You take it he is no longer mad at you, but you're not sure, so you sit quietly while he lowers himself in the bath, and his colourless locks are flowing underwater.

He stares at you again. It's uncomfortable, and you look somewhere else just not to return his gaze. Funny, you think as you lick your lips, a fruity taste on the tip of your tongue, that he still didn't wipe off the balm.

"Get in here," he finally says as he stretches lazily, catching your arm, but not hard this time, just taking your hand in his.

"What, in the tub?"

"Yes."

You blink, staring at it and wondering if you two are going to fit.

"I'll drag you here in your clothes right now," Tomura warns you - the next second you're starting to undress, quickly folding your clothes and leaving them on the chair where you just sat.

Maybe he really calmed down, you hope as you stand in front of him, naked, and Shigaraki snickers when you carefully get in, nearly falling on him. Soon you lay on top of his body, your chest pressed against his as you feel every single scar and scratch on his body, his leg in between your thighs, one of his hands in your hair. Watching your face intently and seeing no revultion, Shigaraki seems to come to his senses, realizing you really don't care how he looks.

You wonder why he's still worried about whether you want him or not. It's not like you have options, is it?

Lowering your head to his shoulder, you breathe in, your nose tickling his bruised neck as you try to relax, warm water easing your tense muscles. You don't feel disgusted even the slightest bit.

In truth, Shigaraki's body is the least of your worries.

[h3l10tr0p3]

Headcanon: Deku, the Serial Shipper

Contains- Mentions of sexual activities, established relationship - Bakudeku; Crack pairings- TodoIna, JiroMomo, UraTsuyu, UraTenya, DenkiSero, Kirimina, platonic Kiribaku etc.

(Beware- Long post)

Jesus Christ, I just had this HC and now I gotta spill, otherwise I won't be able to sleep tonight. Here's another annoying Long Post for y'all)

Deku, as a Pro Hero and Katsuki's Duo Partner, has a pretty hectic life since the media are crazy bloodhounds, the villains are a pain in the ass, interacting with fans becomes exhausting at times, and the critics are demons wailing for his blood.

Yeah, very hectic. And on top of that, there's very little time to relax. Most of the days he sneaks some solace in the gym, if he can buy more time he likes to read and immerse himself in his notebooks and research. Fighting Katsuki to blow some steam is a last resort to shed off weeks of frustration and only reserved for off-days or desperate times - because something like that inevitably devolves into gratuitous rough sex or worse, day-long fuck-a-thon. Not that Deku doesn't enjoy it, he simply doesn't have the time to indulge and he knows Kacchan doesn't either, so they try to keep their hands off each other unless the occassion begs for much-needed violent release.

But sometimes, you just want instant relief. Sometimes Deku just wants to kick back and relax like a normal person, go on the internet, without everyone hounding him for a piece of his mind.

So he does.

Under Anonymity.

Et viola @allmight9000 comes alive on several media platforms including Tumblr and Twitter. At first, Deku masquerades around as a hardcore All Might fan fighting anyone who dares to diss the retired Symbol of Peace . But since his retirement, his popularity has gone cold, not many heated debates take place around him anymore and as sad as this makes Deku, he decides to discover new venues.

Now, Deku knows there's this dark void of fanfiction lurking on the net and there's no escape from it should he ever set foot into it. He is also aware of the dark things that beckon him from the sewers like Pennywise the Dancing Clown (eg. All Might/Endeavour, Hawks/Endeavour, All Might Bowl, All Might/ Hero Harem, All Might/Midnight, All Might/Aizawa/Present Mic and so on), things he should rightfully keep a safe distance from. But this is fucking Deku we are talking about- ofcourse he dares to dip his foot into the murk of fanfiction.

For science, he thinks, and takes the plunge.

It all goes downhill from there.

One day, Katsuki comes back from his shift to find Deku face-planted into the sofa, he hasn't eaten lunch, hasn't bathed and is claiming trauma, repeatedly insisting that he has sinned and he is going to hell for it, then he shakily holds up a 367k word fic of Villain Might/Endeavour. Katsuki has to slap him back to his senses. Later that night, Deku calls up Toshinori and asks him for forgiveness, when Toshinori asks him worriedly, 'For what?', Deku assures him he DOES NOT wanna know.

After obsessively going through various tropes and completing every Enemies to Lovers / Mutual Pining / Unrequited Love fic there is (and there is a lot, Deku hates himself every day for it), waiting torturous weeks for dead authors to rise from the ashes for a teeny tiny update, Deku finally gives up his small lake of unfulfilling All Might ships (because frankly it's hard to find a fic that suits his tastes and convincingly fleshes out a love story around a man who has pointedly avoided romance for the better part of his LIFE or a find a fic which is COMPLETE) and sets out into the sea of Ships.

Bad Idea.

Very VERY Bad Idea.

(We know it, he knows it. Katsuki is the only one who is blessedly oblivious because he chooses not to wade into Deku's mental shit and compromise his own sanity.)

Strangely, Deku has come to take an odd satisfaction of returning to fan mentality of shipping two people without restraints (rarely more than two)-it's simple, senseless, easy. It gives his head a break from all the overanalyzing it does and gives him a small dose of endorphins when he cant work out, eat out or fuck out the frustration. He was adverse to it first, since these are strangers trying to ship two random people (people he is friends with), and it was unsettling to find so many people shipping them when they've BARELY had any interaction in canon real life! What's the premise of shipping them at all? He just didn't find any allure to it back then. So he kept his reads under fluff and under mature ratings because he feels uncomfortable reading smut about his friends.

But Deku had a 'Oh my God they were ROOMMATES' moment when Jirou and Momo announce that they are dating to the U.A. Alumni, that too after reading a really fluffy Creati/Earphone Jack fic which accurately referenced their public sightings together and spun it into plot-points quite masterfully. ( the author did a real good job on it) And the most horrifying thing about the fic, Deku finds, is the fact that NO ONE, not even the AUTHOR knows how correct they were in their estimates! No one except Deku.

That realization shakes the foundations of Deku's beliefs and morality as he wonders how many fics out there , sfw or smut, requited or unrequited love, enemies to lovers or lovers to strangers, fluff or smut have come so so close to the truth, been so damn close - like an alternate course of their love-story? and WHY IS NO ONE GIVING IT MORE KUDOS?

This is how Deku ends up being the most irredeemable Shipper of the universe- with a mission in hand:

To curate proof of all valid ships and to supply aforesaid proof of it to the world (as subtly as he can of course, so as to not compromise his own identity or the privacy of the Shipped.)

He begins to scour through the net for paparazzi photos, indulges in gossip, pries out information of who is dating whom from his Hero contacts, authenticates it, creates folders and subfolders of photographic 'proof' (they are just teasers really) and whenever anyone writes a fic that comes anywhere close to the real thing he makes sure to tag them in his tumblr/twitter post with photos which basically pour gasoline over their fiery passion to continue dreaming and writing fics around those Ships. Like:

You wrote a fic of Fluffy Iron Fist x Real Steel? Here you go- an obscure pic of them leaving her apartment together

Uravity x Ingenium and Uravity x Froppy? A love triangle that could possibly end in heartbreak?!! Damn, sistah, who knows? (She's confused too, imho) So here you go- Uravity getting tipsy with Froppy and Uravity snuggling to Ingenium under the rain.

One-shot of Chargebolt x Cellophane getting frisky in an alley? Honey, I gotchu. Here's a pic of them arriving at a villain scene together with dishevelled clothes.

All Might x Endeavour Slow Burn? My dear friend- here's a picture of the Symbol of peace roasting marshmallows with Shouto on flaming Endeavour merch. Please don't make me block you.

All Might x Midnight? Here's a pic of my mom, me and my Dad AllMight. Midnight, Who binch?

Celsius (Shouto) x Gale Force Stripper AU? Oh, hey, look I'm totally that one lucky guy who was in the right place at the right time, okay? I dont know these guys personally, OKAY? Not. At. All. But I have some Opinions™ about your fic? and pics to support it. Just wanna show you that maybe...i mean...MAAYYYYYYBEEEE...the stripper is Galeforce, not Celsius? Yeah? Don't worry though, You're doing good. Love the slow build, keep up the good work!

Deku becomes a sensational fic-writer-enabler and often gives inspiration to writers who are looking to write for a new fandom. Deku's got their backs.

He sinks so deep into this Shipping business that one day Katsuki catches wind of it. It was becoming painful to keep ignoring Deku's descent into madness. Katsuki was okay with it as long as the nerd did his job well and fucked him even better (which Katsuki will never admit to enjoying, even at gun point. Pull the trigger, you coward). So, yeah, Katsuki could have accepted all of Deku's weird stalkerish behaviours (even if they weren't fixated on him all the time anymore and the 'Kacchan, sugoi!' comments had plummeted drastically....who needs the shitnerd to validate his worth, right?! Right...it didn't make him pissed AT ALL. because admitting that would mean he enjoyed it, WHICH HE DID NOT, MIND YOU)

What Katsuki couldn't accept was Deku accidentally using his official Hero twitter handle to post a very platonic (but in the eyes of rabid fans- borderline homoerotic) pictures of him and Eijirou and posted it as #Ground_Riot. The fucking flood of Zeku-haters and pro-GroundRioters had the comments section on FIRE. The post goes VIRAL.

Deku, fucking DEKU, the man who is secretly ENGAGED to him, is promoting GroundRiot like NO ONE's business and HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HE DID WRONG.

Katsuki finds Deku happily puttering around their shared apartment completely oblivious to the PR hell that has been licking at his heels. He immediately attacks Deku's account and is completely gobsmacked. Lo and fucking behold- every fifth picture in his blog is fucking GROUND RIOT.

Not just that, apparently, THIS MAN, his fucking FIANCE, is not only a renowned peacemaker in inane Ship wars, but is hailed as a Soothsayer of Ships for always correctly prophecizing "Ships that will Sail into the fucking Sunset', he is basically some minor god in the Hero fandom who is extorting excitement out of fic writers and fans alike so that 'the crime of incomplete fics' can be eradicated once and for all. And Deku's fucking commited to it.

(perhaps more commited to Ground Riot than his own betrothal because there isn't A SINGLE POST of ZEKU on his blog)

There's even a post where he answers an ask from anonymous. The question: "Are you also anti-Zeku? I have never seen you post anything related to that ship. Is it because you think it won't Sail?" And Deku answers shortly how he isn't explicitly Anti-Zeku, but doesn't like the idea of reading fanfics of that ship. He clearly witholds his opinion if the ship will sail or not. Katsuki also finds the chat which started all this shit.

Chat-

Hey! @allmight9000. I wanted to write a GroundRiot fic? Could you give me some inspiration?

Aww, sure! It's my favourite Ship tbh. I love GroundRiot. I have a whole gigabyte of inspirations in my laptop. I'll send you some when I get back home, okay?

Yup!!! I am actually a hardcore Zeku fan. But recently my friends got me into Ground Riot and I am addicted!! But Zeku will always have a special place in my heart <3

I see. :)

Do you wanna try it out? I know you mentioned you don't like it. But I know some REALLY good fics.

No thank you ^_^ I make it a point to not read those fics. I just can't visualize it working, you know?

Oh...np. Each to their own. But I really hope one day you try reading some if you can?

I don't think so ...😅...uh...but..Any preferences for your inspiration though? or genre youre interested in?

Fluffff!!

Haha, okay! Look out for the new post on my twitter!

YASSS!! Love ya!

You too!

Katsuki sees red, he's about to flip his shit when he decides to give Deku one LAST fucking chance to explain WHY THE FUCK is he promoting Ground Riot when he should be shipping Zeku and demands of him if he really wants their Fucking Ship To Sail Or Not.

Deku gets defensive and says of course he does. Katsuki asks why he has been trying to push him onto Eijirou all this time if he wasnt serious about it. Deku doesnt want to answer. Then Katsuki gets fruatrated and asks WHY the fuck didnt he post Zeku.

"Because I don't want to support it"

"We are literally fucking engaged, you moron. What the FUCK do you mean you don't support it?!"

"I support Us, Kacchan! I just don't wanna support Zeku-shippers! Those two things are different!"

"WHy dont you wanna support them?! tHere is No Difference!"

"There is! I am not obligated to do anything for you. But if I admit to shipping Zeku out loud to the shippers, then I'm obligated to post pictures of us and I know that if I start posting that then my blog will literally be a flood of just Us all over!!"

"What is WRONG with that?!!"

"WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ENGAGED IN SECRET! NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO KNOW! you said it yourself! That you don't like the useless yapping of reporters about your love-life where it isn't their business!"

"YEAH? WELL FUCK THAT!"

And Katsuki whips out his phone, takes a selfie of french kissing the hell out of Deku and immediately posts in on his twitter. Deku has hardly reeled back from that intense kiss when he realizes what Katsuki has done and he practically explodes in shame.

"Kacchan!! Our secret!"

"Your fucking fault, Deku. If I have to deal with the shitty extras at all, it better be for the right Ship, you dumbass. I'll punt you straight to China if I hear Ground Riot from your mouth ever again...capiche?"

"But I like Ground Riot...It's a valid ship, Kacchan. You cant diss on it just like that. It has wonderful scope, and the fluff in this ship is AMAZING. I think I have a soft spot for Uke!GZ and Soft!GZ now... and it is a really mutually productive ship unlike- hrmff!", Katsuki shuts him up with a smack to his mouth and sheds his shirt.

"Shut your mouth and strip, shitnerd. I'll fuck the Ground Riot out of you. Also, let's make this fucking clear that if you mention ANYTHING that goes anywhere near Eijirou's dick,ass, balls or mouth", Katsuki shivers, "then I'll wreck your dick, ass, balls and mouth. Remember that. Now STRIP"

"But what about platonically? That's a solid ship, right? Right, Kacchan? Also It doesn't mention Eijirou's- fuck!!!"

Deku gets wrecked thoroughly.

(Let's observe one moment of silence for his Shipping ass 🙏)

(r.i.p. Deku)

Katsuki later asks him why Deku doesn't read Zeku fics either, cause pretending to not like it to weasel out of obligation is fine, but it doesn't explain why he refuses fo read any either.

"A fic, especially the ones that I like, always are these perfect little stories which always have a happy ending. Can't help it, I'm weak to it, Kacchan- it's why I read fics at all, you know? For the rush of happiness and feels! It's always written with the intention that it will be perfect! And it is. But it doesn't come close to the real thing. There can be fics out there that come really close to what we really have though - but I refuse to accept that any fic could be better than the imperfectly perfect things I have with you, Kacchan. No matter what anyone insists, what I have with you is perfect to me. You are perfect to me. And that's all that matters."

Katsuki calls him an incorrigible sap and turns away to hide a violent flush that turns him red like a stop sign.

Omake:

Katsuki's #Zeku goes Viral too. But at this point no one understands what is going on or WHY. Because GZ appears to be a Zeku shipper when Deku is a GroundRiot shipper. Confusion abounds. Zac Efron memes agonize over Both ships, Captain America Japan Civil War Memes make a comeback. And for some reason, Deku keeps posting Ground Riot afterwards too and everytime he does, the next day he is seen limping.

"Did you have a hardtime with Zero-san at training yesterday?"

Before Deku can answer the one who asks him that, Eijirou comes up, winks and answers in his stead, "Very hard", and runs away to Mina's side before Deku has a shame-filled meltdown.

(The Ground Riot thing stops only when Mina and Eijirou get finally married.)