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mizutori-heiko · 3 years

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Mizutori’s bakudeku fanfiction master list [complete works]

Really really good writing by these incredible authors. In no particular order! These are all Top!Bakugou and Bottom!Deku. If A/B/O dynamics then it’s Alpha!Bakugou and Omega!Deku. Yes, I have preferences.

Canon World – until 15k

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? by reading_raindrop |��8,303 | Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would.

Oh right, you were a little sh*t by SaysiWrites | 5,653 | When Midoriya Izuku gets hit by an age-reversion Quirk, the last thing anyone expected to find out is that Toddler-Izuku is a little shit. Except for one Bakugou Katsuki, who has seen this phase one too many times already. (Bonus+ the entire Little Sh*t (Kidfic) series)

Do Not Disturb by surveycorpsjean | 10,010 | Apply enough force, and something is bound to break.

And Atlas fell by supercrunch | 15,185 | They move in together, after a while. Katsuki joins Best Jeanist and Izuku trains under Gran Torino. They still take comfort in each other every day, curl up in bed and kiss and talk about how life is going. Their live are tumultuous, after all, what with villains and training and rescuing people every week. It’s nice to have something certain. At the end of a day filled with violence and adrenaline, Izuku knows he can come home to someone concrete. It’s perfect. Being a hero is scary and grueling and uncertain, but this part is just right. And then, one day, a child dies in Izuku’s arms.

be loved by bonnia | 5,403 | The kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands.

Big Protein by Mysecretfanmoments | 13,683 | Bakugou Katsuki has a thriving hero career, an agent to manage his famous attitude, and absolutely zero romantic interest in anyone. With the exception of his favourite health food joint refusing to expand to his city, his life is pretty damn perfect—so why does a viral video revealing Deku's stash of dirty mags involving him and Deku together turn everything upside-down?

Chocolate cake and resin preserved flowers by Anoksun | 11,396 | Izuku loses his memories. Katsuki struggles not to lose Izuku too.

Twin Stars by theperksofbeinglarissa | 8,435 | When Deku saves a woman's life, her quirk is accidentally activated. Her quirk? She reveals a person's soulmate. A star-shaped mark appears on Midoriya's left arm... and on Bakugou's as well. Kirishima is the only one who knows that Bakugou is Midoriya's soulmate, and Bakugou isn't taking the news very well. Can the twin stars of class 1-A work out their differences and find their happy ending?

Unhealthy Fixations by Thesis | 12,522 | Izuku is an adult who knows better than to crush on his childhood bully. AND YET.

Like the Moon by osakakitty | 14,781 | Katsuki Bakugo is having constant, erotic dreams about Izuku Midoriya. He isn’t sure why, but they won’t go away. In order to make them stop, he needs to figure out what Izuku Midoriya means to him.

Worth a Second Shot by cinnabee | 13,080 | Katsuki and Izuku celebrate registering as a Hero Duo together with a big party. What could go wrong?

Like Something Out of A Shoujo Manga by Merrywetherweather | 2,971 | Deku ends up in a rather interesting quirk accident, one that triggers flag events as if he were the protagonist of an otome game.

Canon World – 15k++

Blood Moon by lalazee | 94,860 | The Thank-Fuck-We-Aren’t-Dead Sex had started then, and had never really stopped. Then came the feelings and the fights. The ego, the pride, the jealousy. And then there was Us.

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh | 669,463 | During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Just Like Breathing by MD_Daydreamer | 35,423 | Izuku got engaged. He didn't mind. If that made Uraraka happy, he could do it. He thought his life wouldn't change much.But then, Kacchan went to live in the USA.

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) by vannral | 15,951 | In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

"what's your type?" by sapphicflower | 20,192 | In order to increase their popularity rankings as up and coming pro heroes, Izuku and Katsuki participate in the most popular late night talk show for hero duos - ‘Heroes Rising!’. They’re killing it, obviously, because they know each other from inside and out. Until one question stumps the two of them: “What is your hero partner’s type?”

and it was Just Right by cinnabee | 23,759 | Katsuki spends two years post-graduation in a furious one-sided competition with his childhood friend and rival's promotional photos - until they finally run into each other, and, well. You shouldn't believe everything you see in magazines. A love story about size differences.

Notice Me, Nerd by useless_donut | 40,000 | Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out. A love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A.

in your dreams, nerd! by sapphicflower | 37,639 | In a strange and unexpected set of circumstances, Izuku and Katsuki find themselves sharing their dreams together whenever they happen to fall asleep at the same time. Being hopelessly in love with each other, they don’t mind it all that much. What better way to spend time with your crush than in a stupidly vivid dream?

Hear Me by my_name_is_Levi | 22,419 | It wasn’t as if nightmares were uncommon for the freshman class of Yuuei. They’d seen plenty of things, heard and felt and witnessed enough travesty in their lives to last them a lifetime. But Midoriya Izuku was screaming, and no one, not even Bakugo Katsuki could ignore it.

Bridges by supercrunch | 18,018 | Bakugou is signed up for a Calvin Klein modeling gig. The thing is, they really do need the money. And Katsuki's technically the leader of this bunch of morons, so he finds himself taking the job even though his pride will never recover. And even though nobody thought to tell him that he'd be working with his ex-boyfriend. You know, the cute freckled guy from high school who went and broke his heart. So, yeah. This whole situation kind of sucks.

objective truth by mamalade | 15,390 | Izuku gets hit with a truth quirk, as one does. He seems to be handling it well—until Katsuki shows up.

catharsis by dollcewrites | 15,071 | It's been six years since Izuku graduated.It's been six years since he confessed to his childhood friend; his classmate and his inspiration. It's been six years since he deleted Bakugou's number, asked his friends not to mention the name, spent every last effort of his heart turning off the TV and averting his eyes from the newspapers. It's been six, long, long years since he gave up on Katsuki Bakugou ever loving him back.

Here here, my friends and me (You are my familia) by Jeka | 128,832 | Bakugou Katsuki has made a great job of ignoring the fact that he is tragically in love with Deku, someone who could never love him like that and let's face it, he doesn't deserve. Now that he can't ignore it anymore, he has to find a way to keep his childhood friend and move on for his own sake. Or so he had thought, maybe he can have Deku, after all. Izuku has everything he always wanted in life. But suddenly he has to navigate the most important relationship in his life through different eyes.

Canon World – Jealous!

Hands Off by SaysiWrites | 7,140 | When a new girl at school starts flirting with Bakugou, his friends quickly become invested in the idea of their friend experiencing love - even if he doesn't seem at all interested in her. What they don't see is Midoriya fuming in the background. But how can he get rid of her when they've spent so long keeping their relationship a secret?

Surfaces by surveycorpsjean | 25,225 | Katsuki has a new girlfriend, but something isn't right. As impossible as it is, Izuku can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be called Katsuki's girl.

Green-Eyed Beast by SecretKiwi | 4,721 | Everyone wants a piece of Katsuki Bakugou, but they should beware of the Green-eyed beast always lurking close behind him.

Green with Envy by Sol_Morales707 | 2,611 | Izuku Midoriya is not as innocent and pure as everyone thinks he is. The truth was he was very jealous and willing to do anything for a certain blonde.

Happy Camper by Arysa | 7,074 | Wanting a break from the stress of dealing with the rookie Pro Hero grind, a handful of students from Class A decide to go on a camping trip. Izuku's excited to relax and catch up with everyone, especially Kacchan. But, well, Kacchan's... Kacchan. And dating Kirishima.

How to stop time: kiss by Teddingtons | 31,693 | Deku finally asks Uraraka out. Everyone's supportive except Bakugou who can't even look him in the eye. Deku seeks him out after and is hit with truth.

What I Deserve by s_the_queen | 16,671 | When Izuku starts dating a student in General Studies, everyone is happy for him. She's super sweet and really caring. But something doesn't sit right with Katsuki.

Deku's Already Fucking Taken by asdfjkl129 | 20,704 | 5 times people don't realize that Deku is already in a very happy relationship and try their hand at asking him out, and then in Bakugou's unique and special style, get very firmly corrected, +1 time where no correction is needed.

His by sister_elric | 6,206 | Izuku would like to consider himself a pretty level headed individual. Sure, he had the occasional tunnel vision, especially when it came to training. And hero work. And Kacchan. But, overall, Midoriya felt as though he typically kept his cool. Well, maybe that was a stretch. But, at the very least he could understand his own emotions. So, it surprised even him when an unfamiliar emotion coursed through him as a first year approached his boyfriend, Katsuki.

Down the Red Line by MinervaHope | 7,804 | Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

Canon World – Fake Relationship Goes Wrong

how he should’ve known (and how it turned out) by vannral | 43,918 | In which Katsuki and Izuku pretend to be a couple to avoid journalists, the plan backfires magnificently because of course it does, and the act goes on. Includes feelings, pining, domestic fluff and jealousy.

Vicious by feelslikefire | 105,173 | Midoriya and Bakugou wind up in the very last position either of them thought they'd be in: Hero Partners. It's not fun, but they learn to cope. Their first big assignment together takes them undercover to infiltrate a cult, but the situation turns out far more sinister than they first thought.

What I can never tell you by Mikacrispy | 27,067 | After living in the US for 5 years, Izuku returns to take care of a concussed Bakugou who believes they're engaged. Now, Izuku has to pretend he's in a relationship with the man he's loved for most of his life, knowing that it's just a matter of time until Katsuki gets better and realizes it's all a lie.

Not-Dating by MiraChaDoodles | 14,290 | Katsuki takes Deku on a not-date to save his career, only to find himself wishing it were real.

we'll do the things that lovers do by ethereals | 29,544 | Izuku gets an invitation to Shouto's wedding and Katsuki is PISSED that he asks Kirishima to be his date (also he wasn't even fucking invited

Canon World – Friends With Benefits (?)

Four Times Bakugou Katsuki Doesn't Intend to Sleep With Midoriya Izuku (And the One Time that He Does) by fallingraine85 | 17,601 | He hadn’t planned for any of this. He isn’t about to go delving into the ball of yarn that is Midoriya Izuku’s heart; he isn’t equipped to try and untangle and make sense of it all. He isn’t about to try to analyze how he’s feeling about all of this, either.... How many times can you repeat the same mistake?

We Wear Chains on the Weekend by surveycorpsjean | 35,086 | Well, in a day of revelations, it turns out that Izuku isn't as vanilla as Katsuki previously thought. Unfortunately, that fascinating discovery is overshadowed by Izuku's dumbassery, because he has zero concept of aftercare."Don't go to anyone else," Katsuki says, because screw it. He can do a better job anyways. Or; Katsuki finds Izuku on a bad drop.

Just for Now by Shiro_Kabocha | 48,135 | Katsuki's parents are out of town over a school break and to keep him from getting up to any shenanigans, they ask Izuku to house sit with him. What are two teenaged boys to do when left alone to their own devices? (Bonus+ the entire Just for Love series)

safe in the darkness by yoonskisses | 20,855 | Izuku and Katsuki had been meeting up secretly for months, with absolutely no feelings involved. Or so Katsuki thought at least. The dorm gossip about Ochaco and Izuku's new relationship seemed to set a spanner in the works for their arrangement.

Alternative Universe – No Quirks

Bluebird by EtherealBeing | 53,108 | Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact. However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

Someone Borrowed by mynameis152 | 138,996 | It felt like hours that he stared at Izuku, coming to terms with the fact that a man, his childhood best friend, whom he hadn’t seen since their senior year of high school, was there in front of his very eyes. Then his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched before he uttered through gritted teeth the very name Izuku had longed to hear for years. “Deku.”

Dark Side of the Sun by Synnie | 51,598 | Staying up too late playing video games, Kirishima wasn't expecting to get an urgent call begging for help. Next thing he knew, he was letting his classmate Izuku Midoriya take refuge in his apartment - without consulting his always angry roommate.

Manage Me by Justaperson1718 | 10,756 | Izuku becomes Katsuki’s model agent.

Don't Set Your Drink Down by Crandberrycrush | 88,424 | With sudden clarity Izuku realized he had broken the first rule of going out. Never leave your drink unattended.

Livewire by pretty_rekless | 18,160 | Per Ochako's request, Izuku downloads a gay dating app in hopes to finally find a partner. Except every single one of his leads keep ghosting him or standing him up... That is until one hot, fiery blond enters the chat. Grindr/Tinder AU fic.

Drinking Watermelon by warschach | 8,906 | Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Precious Pet by Mikacrispy | 6,379 | When broke college student Midoriya Izuku found a job that offered lodging, food, and good pay for four hours of work each day, he thought it was too good to be true. But he called anyway. Turns out all he has to do is to be the spoiled little puppy of a rich businessman.

Our Eleven Summers by Dark_Mage_Ayumu | 34,472 | The first time Katsuki met Izuku was when he was eight. For the next eleven years, Izuku changed his life, and no one even knew. Their relationship was something they shared in secret.

sticky note crushes by ladyofsnails | 3,239 | Katsuki hates his roommate. The green-haired, freckled, artsy son of a bitch with his dumb pun t-shirts and paint-stained hands he can’t fucking keep to himself. Katsuki can’t leave a single assignment or paper out in his room because that idiot will just grab anything to draw on it. He’s like a shark that can’t stop swimming else it’ll die – he can’t stop drawing. Ever.

Don't Play Pretend by SweetSide | 10,103 | Actor AU: Deku and Bakugou get the leading roles for an upcoming TV Drama. They weren’t aware that they would be working with each other for who knows how long. It would’ve been completely fine if they weren’t exes.

97.6 FM by jamjars | 32,249 | Izuku can’t stop listening to the radio host with the deep voice who sounds like he’s stuck in 2010. It’s a harmless crush. That is until he starts calling into the show under the pseudonym Deku.

Read {between} Your Lines by greatcloudninja | 52,252 | Midoriya Izuku, up-and-coming actor, has finally hit his big break (...), Bakugou Katsuki, who has been acting for over twenty years.However, Bakugou seems to have it out for Izuku, leading to tension both on and off set. When some incriminating photos surface, the studio suggests (...): having Bakugou and Midoriya fake a relationship to get ahead of the rumors.

I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts by PassingShadow | 5,522 | Izuku is a professional cuddler and Katsuki is his new client that’s just a little rough around the edges, and needs a natural healing touch.

Alternative Universe – Quirkless Deku

A Good Old-Fashioned Tattoo AU by lalazee | 14,437 | After their paths had split, Bakugou & Deku meet again as adults. While Bakugou begins to repent for the kid he used to be, he also starts to prove himself as he the man he is now.

Call Me a Safe Bet (I'm Betting I'm Not) by WTTTD | 10,803 | He wished he had some sort of heads up before seeing Deku again for the first time after nearly two years, looking like the essence of a lazy Sunday, smiling and surrounded with brand new, adoring friends. It was a little fitting that Katsuki burned for him so badly. (Support Department Deku)

In Which Kacchan Has a Ruff Time by OneshotPrincess | 14,511 | Bakugou Katsuki gets quirked into a dog, gets adopted by an unknowing Izuku and generally has a very rough few days full of realizations

While You Were Sleeping by Belkacaramelka (annabelleg) | 71,197 | The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Let Me Assist You Personally by Seeress | 32,806 | Izuku is long-suffering Personal Assistant to #1 Pro Hero Dynamight.Dynamight can't keep a PA to save his career. They all quit crying after a few days weeks. Enter, Izuku—with enough money problems to brave the jaws of the cranky beast. Childhood friend turned glorified paid slave. Somehow it all works out. ‘Kill them with kindness’, his mom had told him once. If that were true, Bakugou Katsuki would be stone-cold dead by now.

Smile For The Camera by kurokonekokilled | 19,179 | Midnight has a cam site, home to millions of users, but one catches Katsuki's eye when he goes scrolled through it in search for something to help him release a little stress. A live stream and the best orgasm of his life later, his wallet is lighter, and he might be almost as obsessed with this Deku guy as the cam boy is with him.

Just Like The Comics by brichibi | 24,935 | Where Izuku works at a comic book shop because that’s as close to a hero as he’s gonna get, and Katsuki plays the part of heroic ex-boyfriend who is good at everything except winning Izuku back... maybe

Alternative Universe – Quirks

Get on my Level by Mikacrispy | 92,273 | Bakugou Katsuki is a Pro Hero whose boss demands him to take an intern. Midoriya Izuku is a UA student who needs an internship. When the two of them are put together, they learn about what it truly means to be a Hero and what it means to be in love.

A/B/O – Secret! Baby

Home by Emerald2402 | 87,214 | Midoriya Izuku left Japan in a rush, moving to America without a word to anyone else. But then almost 11 years later he arrives back Home and Bakugou Katsuki's Alpha is furious. Fuck that, Bakugou is furious, because Midoriya Izuku, an omega he tasted one time, has been keeping a very big, very blonde haired, green eyed secret.

Those Under the Same Stars by PerpetuallyPerturbed | 325,553 | When Katsuki Bakugo left Izuku Midoriya five years ago, he thought it was for forever. He put aside dreams and wishes of the omega to focus on his career. He was going to be the best hero, after all. He couldn't have an omega getting in his way. So when he's stopped on the streets one day by a pup begging for help for his mom, he isn't prepared to face what he gave up, and what the consequences of his actions were. (Quirkless Deku)

A/B/O – Quirks

Mark Me. Make Me Yours. by decadentbynature | 10,062 | Midoriya is the only Omega at UA and he's been hiding it well but there's one issue that threatens to expose him: his attraction to an Alpha, Bakugo. After being told to give some paperwork to Bakugo, Midoriya lets him into his dorm room and is immediately overwhelmed by his scent. Unable to help himself, he gives in to his urges, only to be discovered by Bakugo but instead of becoming enraged, Bakugo decides to give Midoriya exactly what he wants

Claim Me by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) | 114,449 | Being an Alpha has nothing to do with Katsuki's success as a Pro-Hero, the same way Deku's Omega status hasn't kept him from becoming Number Two. Secondary gender doesn't mean anything nowadays and “mating” is an antiquated practice. So when Izuku, his rival, asks Katsuki to Claim him in the middle of the night, there is only one logical thing to say. “What the fuck?”

Change of Plans by Mikacrispy | 185,965 | Alpha Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki never planned to get married to some random omega but what he wants isn't an option anymore. One for All wielder Midoriya Izuku has suffered injustice too many times and doesn't plan in allowing his secondary gender to dictate how he must live his life. Falling in love was never in the plans.

Going Feral For You by ANGIE_fic | 17,977 | Bakugou has an aggression problem that might have to do with his Alpha. His job is on the line because of it. So what do you do with a pent up Alpha? Yes.Rut. (Quirkless Izuku)

i live for you, i long for you by jeonjeonggukkkkkie | 19,165 | The five times Izuku hinted he wants Katsuki to spend his next heat with him, and the one time Katsuki took the hint.

Baby's First Bloom by ContraryBee | 44,945 | Izuku blooms for Katsuki one warm day in their third year of middle school. What follows is both boys learning about themselves, their bond, and the society they live in.

As Fate Would Have It by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) | 88,737 | Katsuki Bakugo had plenty of reasons why he wasn't mated yet, not that he was going to explain why to just anyone. But now, Ground Zero was running out of time. If he didn't find someone soon, he'd lose his position as a Pro-Hero and he'd never get to be #1. So, when he finds out there's a male Omega recently arrested for prostitution that's headed to prison if he too doesn't get a mate…well it must be fate. (Quirkless Izuku)

A/B/O – No Quirks

Gravity by warschach | 71,477 | Izuku is back in his hometown and plenty hasn't changed much from the 8 years he was gone. Except, Katsuki Bakugou, the alpha king of their small town. He's hotter- because that's fair, right, God? -, stronger, a now-famous pro fighter, and noticeably nicer this round.Not that he cares, pfft. (Fine, he cares.)

Nine Months by greatcloudninja | 23,303 | Omega Midoriya Izuku connects with Alpha Bakugou Katsuki through an online singles ad. Izuku pays Katsuki to help him with his heat, ending up pregnant in the process. What follows is a pregnancy filled with ups and downs, but whatever hurdles come their way, they can make it through together.

The long dark by Ominous-Anonymous (Ominonymous) | 13,289 | He could have been really dangerous. He could be a fucking murderer for all he knew. But Izuku Midoriya, ever the reckless daredevil, was not thinking of that when he got into a car with a complete stranger. Completely ignoring the part where his mother always taught him to never gets into cars with alphas he didn't know...

#bakudeku #masterlist #fanfic masterlist #katsudeku #holy shit i can't believe i did this #mizutori’s personal post archive #bakudeku fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #alpha bakugou #omega izuku #bnha fanfiction #bnha #mha fanfiction #fanfiction masterlist post #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #archive of our own #ao3

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

Note

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

#ask #my terrible headcanons #elros #elrond #maglor #elwing #earendil #feanorians #niphredilien #yellow feathered faerie #putting your old url in the tags for archival purposes #post nyanyannya askbox clearout #ironically it turned out almost as long as the songfic that clogged up my askbox in the first place #and it is DONE #fuck this took forever to write #stayed up late just to get it out the door so i don't have to think about it any more #this is a long ramble and i'm pretty sure the end is just me repeating myself ad nausem sorry #i'll admit to a certain pro-feanorian bias in my interpretation #but i also don't want elros and elrond to just. live in a neverending horrorshow for decades #the silm's cruel enough we don't need that #narratively i feel like elrond being All Of The Elves is a good mirror for elros being All Of The Humans #but it didn't really fit the angle i was going for #bleck #let's see how many followers i lose for this

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years

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Oooo, can you imagine multiple alphas are after an omega PC? It's going to be chaos. They probably be waiting for when PC's heat struck to claim them. But, who will get PC first? Are they beyond kidnapping PC to make sure PC is theirs? *whisper* can u include all the alpha LIs?

Ooo boy this is just the game on hard mode 100% allure.

Decided not to include Black Wolf and Great Hawk - just couldn't think of how they would be different than usual.

NSFW below (tw for kidnapping, noncon)

Alex

The moment you arrive on that farm Alex wants you claimed.

That sweet omega scent calls out to them and they know they have to give you the job.

Still acts kind, still tries to butter you up so you'll like them more.

Uses helping you with more strenuous work as an excuse to rub the scent over you.

But if you come to work one day smelling like another alpha? Alex isn't going to be happy.

Might start a wresting match, just some 'innocent' rough play, so they can rub themselves all over you again.

Offers to let you stay at the cottage from that point on. You're turning a profit now! No need to worry about school or work or whatever it is in that town that keeps you going back!

If you accept then all is well. Alex can move you in and start claiming you fully.

If not, you might have to watch your drinks. Alex has plenty of drugs that can kick you into your heat, have you begging to be taken one way or another.

You'll be their woman/man eventually. Patience pays off, that's one thing Alex has learned with being a farmer. The more love and care you put into a new crop or animal, the better the results. Mating you won't be any different.

Wants to spend heats with you. Wants to breed you, work on the farm while you rest, then come back inside the nest and breed you more.

Very warm, comforting scent. Reminds you of summer afternoons, with a picnic.

Avery

You have to be marked by them if you're in an arrangement.

Initially takes you on because they're sick of being asked when they're getting mated, when they're settling down and having kids, aren't you sick of working so hard?

You're the perfect little distraction. With you around, their peers stop being so invasive.

You have to behave in a certain manner though, you have to behave as Avery's true omega. Its what they pay you for.

So who is this alpha you're walking home with? All bright eyes and laughter?

Avery drags you into their car, sight going red when that alpha hugs you. People are watching, they don't care, not in this moment.

Locks the doors and drives into an alleyway, not listening to your distressed cries.

Pins you down in the backseat and marks you while they fuck you silly. What kind of a slut are you that you just let alphas touch you so casually?

No amount of apologies are going to stop them taking you. What about Avery's reputation, you ungrateful whore? Have you forgotten your place?

If Avery needs to take you home and chain you up to be a house-spouse they will. Its very unlikely, they're more obliged to cut you off and blacklist you, but its possible.

Okay with you spending heats alone, due to their busy schedule.

Scent is complimented by expensive aftershaves/perfumes in a way that let's everyone know exactly what Avery's social standing is. It commands respect.

Eden

You're not getting off the leash. It's far too risky, you'll just have to follow Eden around forever now.

Knows when you've been touching others, spanks you for it and then ruins you till you forget anyone else exists.

Doesn't matter who it is or what context.

Has proven they're perfectly okay with hunting you down wherever you run off to and dragging you back.

People are terrified of Eden, no matter how much you struggle to get away from their grip, the most you'll get is someone yelling out to leave you alone.

Pretty much only death is going to stop Eden claiming you.

Very okay with hurting any rivals. If Eden comes into town to find you with a schoolmate, Avery, or if they treck out into the farmlands and find you with Alex, Eden could get trigger happy.

Drags you back home after, noone gets to see you vulnerable apart from Eden.

No more school. No more worrying about your orphan friend, no more money or debt. Just stay at home. Where you belong.

Never ever let's your bites fade. They're always red raw and fresh. Eden will take time to rub salve into the wound to calm it, but they'll never relent when it comes to marking. Even if it's just you two out here.

No walks by yourself in the woods. Those wolves find you too tasty, what if they take you away?

Natural and overpowering scent. A little sweaty by midday, but after a bath it's very earthy and fresh. Has plenty of blockers on hand to use when hunting. You're not allowed them.

Kylar

The school trio is where shit gets messy as all hell- because they're the ones most likely to run into each other vying for your attention.

Kylar will protect you from afar, with their blow darts.

Constantly appearing out of nowhere and dragging you away from Robin or Whitney. Even if you just walk past one of the others in the hallways at school Kylar knows and will cling to you so desperately.

That line in the park where they tell you they know if you've been thinking of others? Yeah well it has more weight to it now than ever.

Gives you their clothes to wear, if they'll fit. If not, then they take every chance to break into your room and put their scent everywhere - especially your pillow so it can cover you in your sleep. Maybe you'll dream of them, like they dream of you.

More likely to pull knives when you're close to your heat, also more likely to come at Whitney rather than letting you drag them away from a fight.

And when I say go at Whitney, I mean jumping on their back and fighting like a feral animal.

Panics if they pick up a scent that isn't Robin or Whitney. What do you mean there's even more people to worry about? Where have you been sneaking off to without them knowing? Is that where you're spending your heats?

Speaking if heats, will go hysterical if you spend it alone, never mind with others. You're meant to spend it with Kylar, you're meant to let them breed you.

The most prepared to whisk you away at a moments notice once their jealousy hits its peak.

Going to breed you as soon as you're tied up in their basement, going to mate you and mark you up.

Has a sharp scent. Can be a little stale at times, but its not unpleasant. A little citrus-y.

Robin

A lower confidence Robin might let someone else take you, thinking they don't deserve to be your alpha - maybe there's others out there who can take care of you.

Sits rather dejected at lunch when Kylar barges into your conversation to kiss you in front of them.

Looks away when Whitney cops a feel against the lockers.

A high confidence Robin is more likely to say something about it, but they still respect your autonomy.

It's your choice at the end of the day, Robin just hopes you choose them.

Not gonna kidnap or noncon you over it. Prefers that you willingly give yourself- it means more to them, proves how real it is that you crawl into their lap rather than being pulled into Whitney's.

Very gentle during heats. Will try to hold off cumming until you do, to make sure you're taken care of and not in pain. Might stand guard for you if you decide to go it alone, but is scared they'll give into temptation and barge your door down.

Will scent you when you ask. Its a very soothing, clean scent. Not too overpowering or demanding, not too subtle. Just nice.

Whitney

Oh no.

You thought you'd suffered humiliation before? Well now there's competition you'll see something fierce.

Constantly marking you. Constantly scenting, cumming on your face and rubbing the liquids in so you'll be very obviously claimed for all to see.

Will grab you in the middle of a conversation just to make out with you in front of your friend - especially if its Robin.

If you're talking to Kylar? Same thing only they'll ask their friends to grab the freak so they can't get violent.

Obviously fuck you in public when they can, but even Whitney knows how dangerous it could be to do that when you're in heat.

Whitney is strong, but the chance of some ridiculously strong alpha pulling them off of you and claiming you instead drives them insane.

You can go heats alone. Just don't spend them with anyone else.

Gloats when you ask them to take care of your heat. Yeah, of course you want them, who else would do a good job?

Another one who likes you in their clothes.

Surprisingly fresh scent. It's accompanied by smoke and the occasional alcohol, but naturally Whitney is actually rather clean to smell. It definitely turns heads.

#degrees of lewdity alex #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity whitney #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity avery #spill your guts #anonymous #tw noncon

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thedoubteriswise · 4 years

Text

okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

#yes I do have a lot of time on my hands #the untamed #cql #wangxian #meta #my meta

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binxyu · 3 years

Text

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

Oooh the fluffy prompts are fun! Could you do “are you sugar personified or something?” with Javier?

Birthday Cake (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Your best friend Javi, the storm cloud to your rainbows and sunshine, is celebrating a birthday today. Gotta cheer the grump up!

W/C: 1.9k

Warnings: language, Javi has dirty thoughts. of course he does.

A/N: idk I just think he’s neat 💖 thanks for the prompt!!

Few people know things about Javier that weren’t common knowledge. Most people know that his full name is Javier Peña, he’s from Texas, he’s fantastic at his job and he’s a womanizer.

You and Steve Murphy are two of the people with more knowledge. You know that he has a sweet tooth but doesn’t recognize it. You know his favorite brand of cigarettes, his favorite brand of whiskey, he always knocks twice in a quick succession on a door. He’s a wild card in the field, but he’s incredibly predictable around the embassy and as a friend.

You work as an Intelligence Research Specialist at the embassy, processing raw data and turning it into intel. This means you work closely with the agents, but Peña and Murphy are your favorites. Steve is the only man who doesn’t hit on you in the entire building, and Javier is the only man who can do it in a way that makes your stomach flutter a little.

You’re the go-to gal for the two mustached men. If they need data, you’re the one they find. And that’s often- the two men love to make impulsive decisions about fieldwork, and you’re the one who has to give them the grounds to go do things. You’re the one who decodes the wiretap that the agents place. You help with interrogations sometimes, and give the men recommendations on what they should do. It’s rare that any of them, besides Peña and Murphy, listen to you, though.

The three of you are the triple threat around the office; wherever you go, the other two men aren’t far behind. They follow you like ducklings to the mother bird with the information, the details, the who-what-when-and-where to their how.

The two men enjoy you too. Steve loves your baking. It reminds him of home. Javier, on the other hand, rarely comments when food is presented to him, but he’ll eat plenty of the sweet treats when he thinks no one is looking. Javier refers to you as a “ray-of-fucking-sunshine,” usually through a mouthful of whatever you baked last. Your positivity and energy is the complete opposite of his gruff demeanor.

Javier really likes you, more than he should. He wants you, wants to kiss you deeply and lay you down on his bed and absolutely destroy you. You’re just so fucking cute, always with that infectious good mood. You see the shit these men do on the daily, and you still seem almost naive. No, not naive. Just hopeful. That’s rare, and Javi admires it.

You like them, as more than coworkers, as friends. Steve is a funny guy. You like him and his wife, Connie. They’re good company. You live next door to the Murphys, which puts you right near Javier too.

Javi, you two called him outside of work. He had a dry sense of humor, and was hard to pull away from the job. They both were. You were better at compartmentalizing than they were. He was handsome and flirtatious, but you figured he’d never like you. Too different of people.

The three of you shared details of your lives at work. Steve would talk about his adoptive daughter’s latest milestones, about his wife and his arguments. You and Javier didn’t have much to share. Your heart twinged every time Steve mentioned another hookup Javier had had.

Something about him is magnetic. Javier makes you grin and giggle and shy away but come out of your shell at the same time. But of course, you’re coworkers and friends. Just friends. It would be impractical to think that you could be something more, if he even wanted to in the first place.

November rolls around in Colombia, and with it comes Javier’s birthday. November 8th, in a year he refused to tell you. Steve told you later. The Murphys and you are the only people aware of this. Javier doesn’t like a fuss to be made over him. Of course, knowing you, a fuss is the only thing practical.

It’s a Sunday when Javier turns a year older. Connie and Steve are doing something with their daughter, probably. Javier doesn’t have friends besides you or Steve. That motivates you to go even grander.

You wake in the morning with a grin. November 8th. After taking your time waking, you find your way to the kitchen and begin the process. You lovingly fold the dry ingredients in a bowl, then add the wet ones. A beautiful looking cake batter forms, and you dare to lick the spoon once the cake is in the oven. It’s good.

As it bakes, you hum to yourself and find your way to the phone. “Murphys,” a sweet voice rings out. Connie.

“Hey lovely,” you say with a grin. “Is Steve home?”

“Yeah, what’s up? Please don’t be calling for work,” she says, even though the tone of your voice indicates it isn’t.

“Oh, no. I guess you’d know: it’s Javi’s birthday. The two of them doing anything tonight?”

“I completely forgot,” Connie gasps. “But no, not that I’m aware of.”

“Just checking. Thanks, girl.”

“Yeah, any time.” Connie hangs up right as the oven beeps that the cake is done.

A knock comes at Javier’s door in the evening. He opens it to find you with a beautifully iced cake, a bottle of whiskey, and a grin. “Happy birthday,” you say as you see him, and his neutral expression grows to a small smile.

“You know I hate birthdays,” he chuckles lightly.

“That’s too damn bad, because I love them. Do you have any plans for tonight?” You ask him.

He’d been considering calling up one of his girls to fuck until he forgot his name or how old he was getting, but he’d much rather be with you. “No,” he shakes his head.

“Wanna share this cake and whiskey?” You ask, hope in your eyes as you lean forward a little.

Javier laughs.

“Are you sugar personified or something? Come on in,” he says and moves to allow you in. You set the cake and whiskey down on his counter and immediately head for a cupboard where you know he keep the plates. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course. It’s my best friend‘s birthday, gotta treat him.”

“I’m your best friend?” He asks, somewhat in disbelief as you return with two plates, two forks, and two glasses of whiskey.

You shrug. “Of course you are. Who else would it be, Steve?” You snort as you sit at his table and he sits across from you.

“Just… no one back home?”

You give him an honest smile, your perky demeanor dropping. “No, Javi. You’re my best friend. I genuinely enjoy you as a person. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

You sigh and reach for your purse. “You’re a piece of work, Peña,” you sigh as you stick a couple of candles into the cake. You don’t smoke, but you carry a lighter for Javier and Steve, which you grab from your purse and use to light the candles. “Okay. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” you sing softly to Javier, grinning and looking into his eyes.

He doesn’t deserve you, he thinks to himself. Someone so beautiful and kind and yeah, beautiful, so stunning, and yet you never go on dates or hook up with anyone, even when it’s so easy. Why? He selfishly hopes it could be because of him.

“Happy birthday dear Javi… happy birthday to you.” He knows the drill. He blows out the candles and they go out easily. “What did you wish for?” You ask sweetly and quietly, slicing into the cake.

“Can’t tell you.” It was you. He can’t tell you that not because he fears it won’t come true, but because he fears what could come after it.

You sigh. “You’re impossible,” you tease and scoop a slice, handing it over to him. He pops the bottle of whiskey open and pours a glass for each of you.

“You’re the impossible one. All sunshine and rainbows in the middle of a fucking drug war.”

You shake your head as you scoop yourself a piece. “Someone has to be. No one else was taking the job. You think I enjoy it? I get pissed sometimes too. I hide it.”

“You, angry? I’d like to see it,” he shakes his head and takes a bite.

Rolling your eyes, you take a bite of the cake too. “Hiding my feelings for the good of others since the day I popped out of the womb.”

His face softens. “Hey.”

You shake your head. “Sorry to be depressing. It’s your birthday, after all. How does it feel to be a year older, hm?” You ask, trying to put the facade up again. It only half works.

Javier sets down his fork. “Hey, brillante.” Shiny. “I know you have more feelings in there. Tell me them.”

“Since when have you been one for emotions, Javier?” You ask dryly and raise an eyebrow.

He nods. “That’s fair. But you can tell me anything. I’m your best friend, right?”

Sighing, you look down at your plate. You don’t want to admit that what you’re thinking about is how you don’t want him to be your best friend, you want to love and adore him and be more. Lovers, partners, anything. “Hey. Answer.”

The frustration gets you and you snap. “I care about you, Javier. I like you. I think about you a lot. As more than just a friend, really. And I shouldn’t, because we’re coworkers and friends.” The words flow before you can stop yourself.

He’s taken aback. He certainly didn’t expect that. “Oh.”

You bite your lip. “That’s exactly why I held that in for so long. Because you responded like that. It’s not your fault, either, so don’t say that, that you’re sorry you don’t feel the same, that-“

Javier stands and walks to your side of the table. He squats to your seated height. “Look at me.”

You do, albeit in a confused way. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I’m about to do this for me and me alone, because I know you want to do it too.”

“What?”

He kisses you, cupping your face in his hands. He tastes like frosting and whiskey and cigarettes and oh god, it’s heavenly. His calloused fingertips against your cheeks, his warm and plush lips against your own. He means it, you can tell it. He breaks away, breathing heavily. “Hey. My ray-of-fucking-sunshine. I want you, I’ve wanted you for a long time now. Since I first laid eyes on you.” He brings your face close to his. “Never hold it in again.”

You close the gap between the two of you, kissing him again. Hard. Passionately. You hold the back of his head with one hand, the other snaking around his shoulder. You stop for a second and stand, and he follows. “Goddamn, you really are sugar personified.” The gap closes between your lips, from mutual movement forward, into another needy kiss.

You throw your arms around him, making a soft noise of need into his lips. “Javi,” you shudder as his lips trail to your jaw and then to your neck.

“Got my birthday wish.”

#javi peña x reader #javi peña #javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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inkskinned · 4 years

Text

When the honey showed up, we all just took it inside. That was one of the things about it - it was always a little warm, always in the same simple jar and the nice plaid bow. Handmade-like. Most of us put it in our pantries or in the back of our cabinets, some put it in the fridge. we just thought to ourselves: gee, what a wonderful present.

I don’t know how long it took before we all had one. For a while, the most that would happen was two-minute feel-good op ed pieces in local newspapers. People would run little letters to the editor to find out the “culprit”. Sometimes there were faux-serious “investigations” when that parent freaked out about the possibility of drugs in honey. Most of the time, it ended quickly. After all, it was a nice gift from a neighbor, and it was yours. that was another thing. A house could be 122 people, and we’d all find our own jar on the doorstep, one at a time. we would know when it was ours and when it wasn’t, no matter how alike they looked. nobody ate it, at first. It was yours, and you wouldn’t eat it, and you couldn’t eat another person’s. it just wasn’t done. and the thing is - in that imaginary house, of 122 people? we’d all buy other honey. it was both there and took up space - but none of us thought of it as actually existing. we’d put down our storebought honey right next to it and think - why did i buy another? i’ve wanted to try this one for a while. and then the thought would simply be out of our head, because this is our third bag of baby carrots we have bought to let spoil again.

it was that one person who mentioned it on youtube. actually i think it was a vimeo “urban legends” series. some person with 6 followers who deleted like instantly. but then 6 people said something similar: everyone they knew had this one specific honey story. and then 12. and then all of a sudden we all woke up to “#honeyonthedoorstep” globally trending. we all posted our pictures of our honey and called each other liars and got into discourse fights with vegans and people without a sweet tooth. In 24 hours, it was running the media. 9-at-night serious news anchors leaned over to each other and said “now john, did you hear about this?” and despite their disbelief, they’d admit: i got the honey too. I think somewhere in march. maybe around the 5th. but i never ate it or thought anything of it. i just thought - what a nice gift.

By the end of the week, there were YouTube challenges and instagram memes and a netflix miniseries in the works. Lots of people tried to eat their honey, and most who “succeeded” were deemed a hoax - but truth be told? it’s not good tv to watch someone pick up honey and say “actually it’s not ready” or something similar and just decide to go do something else. i tried once, winedrunk and thinking i could be famous because it’s just honey. and i remember thinking that exact thing - it’s not ready. i realized i needed to go do dishes, this was stupid and kind of cringey.

and people freaked out, of course. outside of the jokes were parents who were asking if their children would get a jar one day, if this was a one-time thing. there were so many conspiracy theories the government finally had to say something (not that any of us were actually listening), there were massive hunts to find “the team of honey dispatchers”, there were plenty of false confessions, there were rallies to destroy the things. i don’t know if anyone actually did, because in the end? it was just a jar of honey, and it was yours, and it would be a shame to throw it at the floor just because the internet told you so. I moved three times that year - grad school, job, other better job. i always took mine with me. it wasn’t a real choice, it was just... like taking a plate that belonged to your grandmother, or carrying a song stuck in your head. it was just something that was going to come with, but it bore no special attention. and then back into the pantry it went.

two weeks later? we all just... moved on from talking about honey. it was in some memes, it was in BuzzFeed’s “top 5 weirdest stories (that are actually true)”, it was going to be the central plot of books and horror movies. but it wasn’t interesting, not really, anymore. it was like saying “all people need food”. it was just true, and not really changing. every consecutive conspiracy video got less likes, and by the end of the year, it was old enough to be a staple in bad stand-up comedy and in coming-of-age children’s shows.

nobody believed the first ones who ate it. the most traction that those posts got were from friends and family who barely remembered the whole fad. we all just figured it was a weird annual resurgence kind of thing.

but then people were definitely, absolutely, 100% eating their honey. i think i heard about one of my coworkers first. i didn’t know her; she was in another department. she told everyone it was very similar to “normal” honey. just a little tarter than she’d expected.

twitter was in an uproar. the honey was sweet to some. spicy to others. horrible, bitter, like a thousand stingers. it was perfect, it tasted like summer. most people said: it’s just honey, and absolutely regular.

those of us who weren’t ready were biting our fingernails for a while, going to our pantries, wondering - what the fuck do i mean it’s not ready? but it wasn’t ready.

like i said, it’s warm, always. But you just... know. one day you realize you really want honey on toast. or honey on tea, honey on a banana, just... honey. i remember opening it, but it didn’t feel like any more interesting than going to the cabinet for honey ever feels. i pour mine, usually, skipping a spoon because i’m usually too lazy. i was already in the middle of my meal before i realized - this is the honey. it’s not just a normal breakfast, it’s the breakfast, holy shit.

mine is just, you know. honey. it has a little hint of spice and sweet to it, which i actually quite like. it reminds me of this red pepper jelly my family used to get, and it makes me happy. but in the end? it’s honey. i don’t feel like i’m connected to a seventh realm. it’s good on oatmeal and bad in coffee no matter what some of you will tell me.

it’s just, you know. once you get your jar, and it’s ready, you have a little honey roughly every 24ish hours. it’s nothing absurd. it’s just honey, i mean - it’s like saying “you’re alive, so at some point, you should probably eat.” Most of us, it hasn’t really changed our schedules. it doesn’t seem to ever run out, which is good, because we’re always forgetting to check to see if we need more before we go shopping. for most of us? you don’t die if you miss a few days, even a few weeks, you don’t go crazy trying to get it back. sure, there’s weirdass cultists who worship it, but most of us just seem to think - it’s nice to have, and it’s okay to want this thing.

now, there’s some stuff out there, you know, about what it all “means”. and honestly, we all notice things. i’m not the only one who has seen that good people tend to think their honey tastes good and eat it normally. bad people tend to eat their honey frequently but hate every second of the eating. there are plenty who will snort and say “i’m a good person and i think it tastes like dirt” and plenty who will say “i’m a shit person and i think it tastes like the summer i finally kissed her”. and i don’t know, not the way i knew if it was ready, but it feels like a simple thing amidst all the messy. and it’s probably helpful that i think mine is, like most people’s, just a nice in-the-middle. i mean, the other day i heard it asked like a star sign - what’s your honey like?

there’s this one thing, though, you know. i choose to believe, because it might make me secretly happy. it’s like believing in nessie. i know realistically it’s probably just hearsay. but there’s this underground rumbling that, over time, the honey changes. just a little, every day, unnoticeable to most of us who go to work and do our best by others but still sometimes steal toilet paper. there’s these stories of people who made it rich by selling out their friends, who stole patents, who argue that others should charge for insulin - that they liked the honey, at first, but over time, it’s gone rotten. and similarly, every so often, there’s these stories of people who were normal “regular” honey people, who helped someone out of the bottom. who chose to be just a little bit better than they were the day before. who had moments of decisive kindness that changed them. they all say the same thing: since then, the honey has been amazing, and they work to keep it that way.

my grandmother and my mother were never surprised. they have this saying about bees and their secrets. my mother said to me: we have always had these tiny angels. they’re just giving us each a taste of the world we are making.

my grandmother later tells me, while watering the flowers, almost the exact same thing: they will haunt us when they go, because they keep books in their combs. and they see us giants, and no matter who we lie to? the world of bees will know.

#spilled ink #prose #short story #honey #i originally wrote this in my car while binge eating doritos happy mardi gras style #but then tumblr deleted it lmao bc i walked between 2 wifi connections #so if it sucks its bc i had to half-remember a good version

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britt-writes · 3 years

Note

can i have being in a relationship with lucas with a somewhat sorta big age gap with sfw and nsfw?? like completely legal, just what it’d be like to be younger than him? sorry if that’s confusing. you’re work is among the best i have EVER read. love you!

Thank you so much!! 🥺 Seriously, sweet people like you are a huge motivation for writing. Also, not confusing at all; hope you enjoy! 💕 (NSFW portion under the cut)

Quick note: I'm going off on a headcanon that there's at least a 10 year age gap between Lucas and reader.

Dating Lucas with a big age gap

• While the saying 'age is just a number' is true when it comes to your relationship with Lucas, it does play its part here and there.

• While the topic of your ages never really comes up in your day-to-day lives, it can be somewhat noticeable when it comes to some subtle topics.

• One of those is pop culture. There is definitely a slight generational gap between the two of you; Lucas grew up with different movies, bands, games and many other things that you were completely clueless about. The opposite is true, where the defining popular culture that is dear to you may be a bit out of Lucas' grasp.

• But instead of seeing it as an awkward reminder of your age difference or an obstacle, see it as something that helps you connect where you can make each other discover new things. Lucas has shown you plenty of gems from his youth, and you've done the same.

• He's made you listen to so many amazing, older rock bands, watched classics with you and played some retro video games with you that he grew up with.

• Lucas is totally the kind of guy who'll shit on recent generations, but as much as he refuses to admit it, there's plenty of things that he likes from your generation. Thanks to you! Though that still doesn't mean that he's into everything; there's quite a few things he doesn't really care about.

• Now, your relationship will raise a few eyebrows. The shitty part is that everyone will have an opinion about your relationship, and it's not always a supportive one.

• Lucas doesn't have a good reputation— never has and probably never will. So, a lot of people will be quick to assume that he mistreats you.

• That assumption is what makes Lucas the most angry. Does he care about a lot of people? No. Would he start fights with people over the slightest thing? Yes. Does he have a cynical attitude? Yes. Has he done shit? Yes. Would he abuse you? Absolutely the fuck not! It wouldn't even cross his mind to intentionally harm the one person who genuinely cares about him and swept him right of his damn feet.

• Some people question you out of genuine concern with no ill intentions in mind, and even if it's not necessarily any of their business, it's somewhat understandable.

• But that doesn't mean that it's not exhausting to have to explain yourselves to nearly everybody. It's like people can only see the number and not the chemistry between you and Lucas.

• Lucas is much less classy in handling meddling people, often near-snarling at them to fuck off and mind their own business, which may or may not make things worse.

• Even Lucas' own family were somewhat concerned when they first met you, but the more they saw you and Lucas interact, the more they came around. They don't even see the age gap anymore and see you as Lucas' wonderful lover.

• Jack, Marguerite and Zoe are all proud of Lucas for having such a great person in his life. They're really happy for him; they've never seen him so content.

• There's been some rather degrading or just plain dumb comments thrown your way. From people saying that you're just some sugar baby, to people saying that you're jailbait, even though you're completely legal.

• Apparently, Lucas is old enough to be your dad, but uh, you're pretty sure that kids that young don't have children of their own.

• Lucas does draw the line when people start personally insulting you or him, you especially.

• You've had people call you desperate enough to go for someone like Lucas. It took a lot of convincing on your part to keep Lucas from finding that person and sticking them in the hospital.

• On a lighter note, besides the cold asshole side of him that he shows off publicly, Lucas has a pretty childish sense of humour, so it doesn't feel like you're dating a 30-year-old at times.

• But that's okay, the two of you can just let loose and be yourselves.

• Your family actually kind of likes Lucas. They love how smart he is and that he's well-educated with a good university diploma and great job. Sure, he's got flaws and quirks, but everyone does. If you're happy, in love and he's treating you right, then who are they to judge?

• But really, it never really crossed your mind that dating a much older man was weird, and neither did Lucas. You just happened to fall in love with each other, and you couldn't be happier. You're both consenting adults, and you're not harming anyone.

• Now, being an older man, you'd think that Lucas would have a bit more sexpertise, huh?

• Well, not exactly.

• He was pretty undesirable all his life; people avoided him like the plague, so he never really got any romantic experience, let alone sexual aside from shitty porn movies he's watched.

• You were his first, much to his embarrassment of being in his 30's and only now losing his virginity.

• But you found it pretty endearing, and it felt nice to be able to teach him what you knew.

• That's not to say that he hasn't become fucking amazing in bed, especially in the oral area. He knows how to use his mouth and tongue.

• Lucas has always had a high sex drive, and it has not lessened in the years, so expect a lot of intimacy between the two of you. When you're in the mood, of course!

• Your age gap actually does turn him on during sex. He likes the feeling of having some form of authority over you in bed.

• Absolutely drives him crazy if you call him 'sir'. He likes it better than 'daddy'.

• Lucas loves roleplaying scenarios with you, especially anything that has you in a vulnerable, innocent or submissive role.

#fanfiction #lucas baker #lucas baker x reader #reader insert #requests #resident evil 7 #headcanons

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Javier Peña SFW Alphabet

Because the world needs more soft!Javi.

Warnings: 16+. allusions to sex, depression mention, cigarettes mention, alcohol mention, food mention.

Masterlist

Reblogs appreciated!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

So, Javi hates PDA. It makes him cringe. Javier can be pretty affectionate but only when you two are alone and spending private one-on-one time with each other. However, if he sees another pair of eyes on you, he can get protective pretty quick. He’ll guide you around with his hand placed on the small of your back, and he’s not afraid to slap your ass if it means he gets to assert his dominance.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I mean, just look at Javier & Steve. Javi is an amazing best friend. He’s hilarious, and always jokes around, although most of the time, his humour can be quite dark and self deprecating. None the less, he’s super funny and never fails to make you laugh. He’s perfect to have around when you need to be cheered up. He’s also super supportive and will constantly look out for you. If you’ve fucked up and made a mistake, Javi will take the blame and have your back. You don’t even have to ask him. He really steps up for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

At first? No. Javi struggles to show his feelings, and he’s not the biggest hopeless romantic, as you might’ve guessed. He’s never really given out cuddles (or hugs for that matter), but if you’ve been together for a couple of months and you’re going steady, he doesn’t have an issue with getting into it. He learns to really like cuddles. Especially after sex.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He has no interest in getting married. Never has, never will. He doesn’t see the point in a piece of paper from city hall to confirm that you two love each other. As long as he can feel it, in his heart, that’ll be good enough for him. But if you absolutely want to get married, he’ll allow it. It won’t be a big ceremony though. Maybe just a few guests and a store bought cake. He doesn’t like the fuss. He doesn’t cook, ever. He had a pretty bad diet that consists of snacking on chips at the bar or ordering take-out. He has a cleaner too.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Honestly? Javier can be pretty brutal. If you’ve hooked up just a few times and he’s lost interest, he’ll probably just not call you back. If you’ve been together a while, he’s gonna be really torn up about breaking up with you. He’ll be sulking and moody for a few days and you’ll know that somethings up. Then he’ll go distance and ghost you, hiding out in a few motel bars leaving you worried about where he is. When you find him, there’s a big fight and he snaps and tells you he wants to end it all. When he misses you, he’ll pick up a girl from the brothel who looks similar enough to you, and he’ll think of you while he fucks her. He feels gross about it, but it’s just what he does.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh Lord, Javier has the biggest commitment issues. He’s terrified, as we seen with Lorraine. It’s gonna take a lot for him to settle down. He tries to reassure you that it’s not your fault and it’s a problem he needs to work out himself. It might take Javi a few years of steadily dating before his commitment issues become resolved, but as long as you’re willing to wait for him, he’ll be happy.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s definitely rough at first — in every way you can imagine. But you teach him how to be more gentle and considerate, both with yourself and the people around him. He can be pretty blunt which can cause a lot of hurt sometimes. When he sees that you’re upset though, he will show a surprising softer side. He’ll wrap his arm around you and smooth out your hair, and he’ll lull you to sleep by whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

The first time you hug Javi, he stiffens up completely. He has no idea how to react. The last time he received a hug must’ve been from his mom when he was still just a young boy. He often gives you hugs though, especially when you’re seeking comfort. Javier has big strong arms and he holds you so right. He runs at your flesh in soothing motions and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You can always smell the honeyed scent of his cologne, and cigarettes, when he hugs you. But you wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You’re probably going to say it first... and that’s okay! Javier does love you, he knows that for sure. It’s just... it can be hard for him to actually admit it and come to terms with it (with his commitment issues and all). You assure him it’s okay and he can take his time. But he ends up not taking long at all. Once you tell him you love him, his whole world feels complete and it’s suddenly pretty easy for him to tell you that he loves you back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

To be honest, Javi is pretty confident in a relationship. No woman has ever left him before. So, he doesn’t get too jealous. Besides, other men know better than to get too close to you because Javier isn’t afraid to throw a punch or two. He is, by nature, extremely protective, though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

So passionate. A clash of tongues and teeth. He often moans into your mouth and the vibrations from that alone are enough to send shivers down your spine. When he kisses you, he struggles to keep his hands to himself. With Javier, kisses often lead to making out which often leads to sex. He loves to kiss you anywhere. Along your jaw, down your neck and the valley of your breasts. He’s a biter too (this is canon). He loves to nibble at your skin and give you little lovebites.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Surprisingly decent. Kids aren’t his favourite thing in the world, and he does his best to avoid them, but on an occasion where he finds himself with a child, he can handle them pretty well. Olivia Murphy loves her uncle Javi.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Weekdays are the worst because Javi has to head to work pretty early. Weekends though? You and Javier will sleep in until around midday, just lounging in each other’s arms and basking in the morning sunlight as it seeps through your curtains. It’s soft and sweet and almost always results in morning sex. You and Javi find yourself indulging in tired conversations and soft touches as you both fall in and out of sleep.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Javier will be drinking beer or whiskey and the two of you will mostly likely be on his sofa, watching a movie together. Fancy dinners aren’t his style but he likes to treat you to them now and again on date night. And trust me when I say you two will be going at each other until the early hours of the morning.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s an enigma to everyone he meets, and this doesn’t exclude you. It can be exhausting at first— how much he keeps to himself. He doesn’t talk about his childhood, or what he did at work today. He talks about very little. But once you express to him that you wish he’d be more open and vulnerable with you, he tries. He really does try. In the end, he’s a lot more confident and can talk to you about practically anything.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has 0 patience, as we see on stakeouts. He gets angry and frustrated super fast. He’s not too loud and he’s rarely a shouter, but when he’s pissed, you’re sure to know about it.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

It’s going to take him about three years for him to remember your birthday. But he remembers the exact shirt you were wearing the night you and him met. He forgets your mom’s name, but he remembers the brand name of the perfume that’s displayed on your dresser. Point is, he remembers very menial and silly things about you. Sometimes, he’ll bring up a random fact about you that he’s remembered and it’ll truly surprise you. Even though he struggled to remember the important things, you find is so endearing how he remembers the smaller and finer things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you and Javi slept together, something just hit him like a ton of bricks. He’s slept with plenty of women, that much is clear, but with you, it was different. Right from the start, something felt different, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. Truth be told, it terrified him... this unknown feeling. But it excited him too, and only spurred him on more. It takes him a while to realise, but that feeling was love. That was the night he fell in love with you. And so for that reason, yours and Javi’s first time is his favourite memory.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. There’s no reason to elaborate. Due to the nature of his job and the shit he sees on a day to day basis, he makes you his number one priority. If anything ever happened to you, he couldn’t ever forgive himself. So he’s constantly at your neck and call. Anything you need, he will provide.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Javier is pretty low maintenance. Like I said, he will occasionally take you out for a meal at a fancy restaurant, but this is usually for anniversary dates. He’s taken a liking to going to the movies with you, and he also loves to go dancing with you in nightclubs. Javi’s job is well paid and he has a surprisingly good eye for jewellery. He always picks you out the most beautiful diamonds. You worry about him spending too much on you, though.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Smoking. You don’t like the smell of it. And when he has one too many beers. He tries to cut down though, for you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Yeah, he looks after himself. He keeps himself well groomed. He even has a little toothbrush he uses to comb his moustache.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He really, really would. Say you and Javi have had a big fight and you are both spending some time away from each other... he’ll be really struggling. You’re always there to ground him and make him feel safe. He never realised how much needs you until you’re not with him anymore. He’d probably cry himself to sleep, but he’d never tell anyone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has a vision. It’s a pretty distant vision, well into the future. But once he retires from the DEA, he’d love to take you back to Texas and show you his fathers farm. Maybe even have a farm with you someday. A suburban house with a white picket fence and dog. It’s the last thing you’d expect from Javi, but in a sense, he craves the normality of it all.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Uh, he doesn’t like drugs? DEA agent and all. He doesn’t like the rain because it ruins his hair and he hates the way his colourful shirts stick to his skin. You tell him it’s sexy, though. He doesn’t like big events where he has to see and interact with a bunch of people.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He snores so loud. For the love of God, he needs to see a sleep therapist or some shit. Thankfully, you grow used to it, but you don’t know how he doesn’t wake himself up!

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javi peña #javi pena #javi peña x reader #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 years

Note

May I request nsfw headcanons for yandere En, Noi and Shin? Please and thank you. :)

(under a cut due to length)

En is used to getting what he wants either with his wealth or by force. So needless to say, he does NOT take rejection well. He'll shower his Darling with gifts and offer them a "job" at one of his businesses; his job is either related to their current one, like baking/writing/editing/etc. and what a coincidence, they'll be working in his home! Is the commute from their place too long or inconvenient? That's not a problem--they can just move in to his main estate.

You know how he's always got a smile whenever he's interacting with Kikurage and sounds clearly happy behind the mask? That's him with his Darling. He doesn't know why just being in their presence makes him feel at ease despite all the work he does; even though the loss of his men still leaves an ache in his heart, it's less present and easier to live with whenever he's around ____. And when they're not with him, that ache just hurts more and he's noticeably more irritable. It's one of the reasons he wants to have them live with him as soon as possible.

If they reject him after he finally confesses to them or tells them he wants them to move into his home and eventually marry him...it's not going to go well. He'll insist a little firmer with the intonation of "this isn't a request, you're going to do this" and if they STILL refuse, he's simply going to have them drugged and taken to his place in the middle of the night. As much as he loves them, he's not above coercing them with drugs or even a bit of physical force to be with him.

Their friends and loved ones are also fair play to use as a bargaining chip to make them do what he says. His punishments would involve going after her loved ones (financially or by kidnapping/hurting them), confining her to just part of the mansion, keeping a shock collar on them, and he's also fond of spanking them and forcing himself on them for a basic punishment as well. It's to ensure they learn their lesson and realize that he can only treat them well if they show him respect and act like a proper lover in his eyes. He's always gentle afterwards and provides a LOT of aftercare as well (not just after punishing them, but after sex as a whole), and apologizes for having to be so rough with them.

Noi starts off with just a regular crush. Hey, she may be a giant powerhouse but she's still a little girly now and then when it comes to how she acts when she likes someone. She'll always blush when they're talking to her and might even fumble her words a bit, and she'd wonder why it's so hard to get the courage to just ask them out or flirt with them a little. She faces actual scary shit every day, so why is this making her so nervous?Her size and power can be intimidating to most people, so she'd offer to escort ____ home safely. Even if it isn't as dangerous as the Hole, the city has plenty of criminals that might try to rob her Darling or worse. She secretly wishes that someone would try to hurt them on the walk just so she can easily dispatch them and be her Darling's "hero." She'd go a little too far though and just curbstomp the poor fucker...and might even get a bit of blood on ____ by accident.

Every attempt to seem endearing or sweet just makes her more scary, and she'd agonize over what to do. It's not her fault, she just keeps screwing up at just the wrong moment! It wouldn't happen if she just had ____ all to herself at her place so nothing could go wrong in public. And as soon as she thinks that, the idea to take her Darling comes to her.

She's apologizing the whole time she's knocking them out and carrying them over her shoulder, insisting that she just wants to make her Darling happy--okay, kidnapping them isn't going to make them happy at FIRST, but once they're living with her things will be so much better! She promises she isn't as scary as she seems...even if she DID just kidnap them and that she nearly beat a man to death with her bare hands in front of them the other day. Ahhh, why is this so complicated!?

She'd probably message Shin to ask for help/advice, and she'd be trying to explain everything while Shin's just staring at an unconscious and hastily tied-up ____ on Noi's bed. Her senpai would tell her this was a stupid idea in the first place, but he'd help her keep this under wraps until ____ isn't likely to escape. She'll always enjoy cuddling with her Darling and wouldn't be too likely to force herself on them; at most, she'd cuddle them with her beefy arms and ensure they can't squirm away.

Shin sometimes thinks that it'd be nice to have a more domestic life whenever he gets home from work, and he'd fall for a Darling that's a civilian and has very housewife-y/maternal traits because of that. He'll start to think more and more about those little fantasies he has of coming home to a homecooked meal and spending the evening with someone, them fixing his tie before going to work, sleeping next to ____ and waking up late with them on his days off...wait, when did his fantasies go from a faceless "somebody" to ____?

He's the most likely one to pursue a fairly normal relationship instead of going for the kidnapping route. Shin's a lot more attractive and charming than he gives himself credit for, so I can see him managing to strike up a relationship with a Darling prior to them discovering how obsessed he is with them. Maybe they'll catch him holding them a little too tightly sometimes, or they'll swear they saw him standing outside of their place before ever inviting him there, but nothing that sets off any real alarms.He manages to convince them to move in with him since his job has made him a lot of enemies who might try to hurt ____ to get to him.

As soon as they've moved in, he'll become more and more protective until he rarely ever lets them go outside (and NEVER without him or Noi). He insists it's to keep them safe, but it feels more like ____ is his prisoner than his s/o sometimes. He won't hurt them as punishment most of the time aside from a spanking or two; he prefers to isolate them or leave them tied/confined to a single room until they're begging for him to give them SOME kind of human interaction because they're going insane on their own.

He prefers to not sexually punish them either, since he wants them to enjoy being with him in bed instead of being afraid of him. Still, he'll expect them to acquiesce whenever he comes home from a long day and wants to "spend time" with them in the bath and in bed. He'll only put up with them shrinking away or resisting for so long before he undresses them and promises that he'll make it good for them too.

#.drhdr #yandere drhdr #yandere en #yandere shin #yandere noi #.en #.shin #.noi #.myshit #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

Text

What I Want Most - One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: NSFW, mostly daddy kink, rough oral, praise kink, rough sex, one-night stand to enemies to lovers (is that a trope?)

Word Count: 6840 (whoops!)

A/N: Apparently, I can not write pwp anymore. This should have been a one shot but it ended up a mini series. Sorry.

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

“C’mon, man!” Gabe urges, his hand comes up to pat Dean’s padded shoulder.

He’s still in his suit, having gone into work because of that damn project. The deadline is on Monday, and that’s also the day that the execs want to talk to him. He still doesn’t know what’s it about, fears the worst. Maybe he has a reason to? Dean doesn’t know why they would fire him, though. Since he had the news that they wanted to talk to him on Monday, he’s been working harder, knelt himself deeper into the workload, was barely home and if he did, it was just to sleep, only to get up and go to work before dawn.

It’s crazy. It really is, because it’s not even his dream job but he still needs it. At least until Sam moves over here in a couple of weeks. So, the goal is to hold on to this job for as long as Dean can.

Gabe has picked him up from work, complaining that Dean hasn’t got any time for drinks anymore. Little does Gabe know that he’s been drinking himself to sleep every night lately. And Gabe’s fucking persistent. He was waiting outside the building until Dean had come out and now he coerced him into standing in line for a hip club that has the reputation for debauchery and illegality. It’s just a rumor. Dean’s never been here, but Gabe apparently had.

“This better be good, Gabe,” Dean grits his teeth. The wind is chilly tonight, but for most of the people in the queue, especially women, there's apparently no reason to wear more clothes.

“It will be, once we get in,” His friend says and rights his suit. It’s weird to see Gabe in a suit, a rare sight, but he wore it because suits always get you into things in the city, “There’s going to be so many girls, huh?” Gabe elbows him in the ribs, “Maybe you can find one to help you to unwind,”

They’re next in line and Dean moves up with Gabe, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs. Well, Gabe is not really wrong. It has been a while since he scored, even longer when he had something steady. It’s not that Dean didn’t want to. It’s more like he can’t find the time. His last relationship, or what felt like it, was over a year ago, and already then, she ghosted him because Dean ghosted her first. Not deliberately, though, he was just busy. And business is a constant lately.

Maybe Gabe is right, Dean wouldn’t mind finding someone tonight. It would be welcoming to take off the edge, forget the looming Monday for a couple of hours.

They are finally at the front of the queue, and the doorman ushers them through the open door. As soon as they enter the building, the bass of the music hits him. The bass vibrates through his body, traveling up his spine.

There are plenty of girls, scantily clad, dancing and laughing, waiting for someone to pick them up and buy them a drink. He wonders if he’ll find one he likes. He’s picky, doesn’t want to hook up for the sake of hooking up, if that makes sense. Dean kind of hopes he’d find one with a buried daddy issue, which is really not hard to find in the city, he just needs to be alert and read their body language.

He follows Gabe across the dance floor as the man shoulders his way through to the bar, finds a spot and plants himself there at the counter, making himself bigger than he really is. Dean joins him, smirks proudly at his friend as he orders them a drink. It’s him paying, like he always does with Gabe. Gabe is a good friend but Dean still earns more so that’s the least he can do for what Gabe’s doing for him, being there whenever Dean needs a friend.

While they wait for their drinks, Gabe looks around, eyes scanning the dance floor. Dean watches him at first, watches him smile at something, and turns his head to look at the source that produces the smile on Gabe’s face.

That little shit has already found his prey.

“Don’t wait up for me, I guess.” Gabe looks back to Dean and takes his drink, walks across the dance floor to dance with a girl who’s more than willing to share the drink with Gabe.

Dean turns back to the bar, his elbows braced on the counter as she shakes his head and chuckles.

Suddenly, there’s a voice beside him and it seems like it’s talking to him.

“Hey, big guy, can you move a little?”

He tilts his head to look at the woman, who appears to be alone. Dean’s interest is piqued.

“Sure, sweetheart,” He moves a couple of inches to the left, gives her room to press herself against the counter.

She smiles, leans herself over the top to talk to the tender, her tits squashed on the bar top. While the bartender prepares her drink, she’s still leaning over the counter but she turns to him with a smile. With the tilt of her head and body, he can see that her tits almost spill out. Dean can’t look away even if he wanted to.

“You come here often?” He asks with a crooked smile.

“Nah,” She smiles back, “I just moved here today, starting a new job on Monday. Just needed a break from unpacking so a friend brought me here. You?”

“First time,” Dean replies, “Where’s your friend?”

“She went to the back,” She says, “Apparently there are rooms?”

Dean shrugs, “I wouldn’t know.” With his next breath, he adds, “Names Dean, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean, I’m Y/N,”

When her drink arrives, a seat at the bar becomes available and Dean urges her to sit down. She does, albeit reluctantly. While she sits, her skirt rides up a little, exposing the tender flesh of her thighs. He’d like to touch, he really does, but Dean has to be clever about it.

They are talking while Dean orders more drinks.

“What about your parents?” He asks after a while of talking. He knows that she’s been living in another city, works in the same field as he does, came here for a job but when Dean asked where she’s working, she wouldn’t say and that’s a good girl because people can’t be trusted, not even him. She just finished talking about her one sibling whom she doesn’t talk to anymore. It’s different for him and Sammy.

“Just my mom, I never knew my dad,”

Yahtzee.

They keep on talking and Dean gets bolder, stands beside her at first with an arm around her waist. He rubs circles on her back with his thumb and she smiles at him, laughs at his stupid jokes too.

After one more drink, she’s scrambling out of her seat and stands back at the bar, and he should be wondering why but he isn’t. He just knows. She presses her body against the counter and Dean cages her in from behind, lowers his mouth to her ear, places a soft kiss there that makes her shudder noticeably. He chuckles low.

“You wanna come back to mine?” He whispers lower than he chuckled out before, noses behind her ear and moves lower, plants little kisses down her neck, making her arch her back, driving her sweet ass against his crotch. He’s semi-hard from thinking of what he’ll do to her, only getting harder with the rubbing.

“You want that?”

“Yeah,” Dean darts out his tongue, swirls it around her earlobe and there’s an actual moan.

His right hand travels down the front of her body, fingers span wide on her stomach and it dips lower. He watches her breath hitch in her throat, feels her shivering.

“What would you do to me, huh?”

Instead of answering right away, Dean’s hand goes further down, hitches the seam of her skirt up a little, teases the tip of his middle finger along her clothed pussy.

“Oh god,” She groans and throws her head back to rest on his chest while her back is still arched.

He chuckles, “Call me Dean,”

His hand goes further down, and she parts her legs a little. A fucking good girl, indeed. He rubs long her lace panties, feels the fabric damp. He gets bolder too, his fingers hook into the crotch of her panties, pulling it aside.

It’s skin on skin and Dean lets out an audible groan at the wetness he feels, bites into the junction of her shoulder where it meets her neck. It prompts her to drive her ass into him harder.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby, is that because of me, huh?”

He flicks at her clit with his thumb, dips just inside of her wet pussy with the tip of his middle finger.

“Uh-huh,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

Dean chuckles as he pushes his finger in some more but not too much. It’s just a tease after all. He closes his eyes, groans again. He’s fucking hard by now and he presses closer to her ass, making her feel what’s going to await her.

“You’re so wet and warm,” He breathes out next to her ear, “Who’s making you so wet, huh?”

“Fuck,”

“Who, baby?” He goes further in, applies more pressure with his thumb.

“Y-you… you, daddy,”

Y/N doesn’t seem to have noticed the word she let slip out, or she’s too far gone to care if he’d be appalled by it.

He sucks in her earlobe with a chuckle, releases it before he nibbles at them. Not so much that it hurts, but enough to inflict a little pained pleasure, “Yeah? Did daddy make you all wet, huh? Jesus, you’re so tight and warm, making me want to fuck you so bad,”

“Do it,” She drives her ass back, wriggles with it deliberately, “Please? Daddy?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

She really is into this.

“Gonna take you home first, baby, you up for that? Huh?” His other hand massages up her throat and Dean paints along her mouth with two of his fingers. He can’t really see but he can feel.

Nodding her head, she opens her mouth, sucks his digits in, and swirls her tongue around them.

Fuck.

“Your mouth, baby,” He whispers, “Feels good around my fingers, would love to see them around daddy’s cock,”

“Mmmh,” A moan of approval accompanied by a shiver.

“Would you like that, huh? Like for daddy to use your mouth? Let you suck my cock like the good girl you are?” Her pussy clenches around the one digit and Dean grins, “Yeah you do. Gonna use your sweet mouth, can’t wait to feel those lips around my fat cock, baby girl,” He pushes his fingers deeper into her mouth, feeling her retching against him, “Yeah, gonna make you choke on daddy’s cock. That’s what you like, don’t you?”

She hums around his digit, and her pussy clenches some more.

Dean really hit the jackpot tonight. He should send Gabe a thank you card for bringing him out here.

“C’mon, let daddy take you home,”

Y/N didn’t realize the word that slipped out of her mouth, but she was glad Dean ran along with it. Using it even more afterward too. He got harder hearing it out of her mouth, an added bonus, really. There aren’t a lot of guys who are into it and god, that guy is hot and is fully on board with it? She fucking loves this city.

He doesn’t live too far, it was just a ten minute ride, where he moved close to her and let her drape a leg over his thighs. His fingers are in her pussy, fucking her with them while he fucks her mouth with his tongue to the same rhythm. Her hand is on his crotch, palming and rubbing him through his slacks.

Dean groans into her mouth, parts just for a minute to catch his breath, and whispers low, “Jesus, can’t wait to get my dick into that tight pussy, baby girl,”

Fuck. She can’t wait either. His filthy mouth turns her on so much.

The cab comes to a halt at a building which is in the nicer part of the city. She wished she had enough money to live here one day. Maybe she will one day with the new job she’s starting on Monday.

He lets go of her long enough to pay the driver and she tugs her skirt down as she gets out. Dean holds out a hand for her to take before he guides her into the building and into the elevator.

Pushing her against the wall, he presses his one thigh between her legs, the skirt riding up in the process. He kisses her again, his one hand braced on the elevator wall, his other hand around her throat, applying enough pressure for her to not feel like he’s restricting her. His mouth hovers around hers and he moves in, pecks her lips gently, “Come on, rub your sweet cunt on my thigh, baby. Get yourself warm and nice for me,”

She nods and he claims her mouth, kisses her hard, the scruff rubbing against her cheek, his tongue licking into it deep as she moves her hips and rubs her ruined panties over his clothed thigh.

God, the friction feels phenomenal.

The elevator pings, and Dean chuckles as he pushes himself from her, chuckles, because she’s still rutting against nothing.

“Fuck, you’re really something,” He whispers as he manhandles her out of the elevator only to drag her along the hallway.

It’s easy, she thinks, so easy for him to manhandle her around. He’s so broad and strong and just... fuck , she wants him so bad.

He comes to a halt in front of a door that says 823 , reaches into his pocket to pull out a set of keys and she stands behind him, reaching her arms around his body. Her one hand palms over a clothed, yet still so fucking hard cock, while her other hand tries to unto his belt buckle.

“Baby,” Dean chuckles, “Can’t open the door when you’re distracting me,”

“Just want you so bad,” She says, her forehead leans against his back and she feels his muscle shifting.

Y/N got the belt loose before Dean found the keyhole, her hand sneaking into his pants, traveling over the tuft of pubic hair until she wraps her fist around his dick.

He lets out a groan and closes his eyes for a moment before he goes on with trying to get into the apartment.

Dean shakes his head, “You really want that dick, huh?”

“Yeah,” She whispers against his back, her hand now jerking him off. She squeezes a little more at the head of his dick, and pads over his slit to smear the precum around his tip.

“Fuck, baby girl,” Dean mutters under his breath and she hears a click before he turns around, making her release her grip around his cock.

He crashes his mouth on hers, kisses her hard, his fingers fisting in the hair at the back of her head as he pulls her into the apartment with their lips still attached. He kicks the door closed with one foot.

After a while of intense kissing, Dean pushes her away, making her stagger back.

“Strip, baby,” He says in an absolutely dirty voice all deep and husky and she does because god, she would be damned if she didn’t want to be his good girl tonight.

Her shoes are off quick and she pushes her skirt down, her underwear comes right after before she pulls her top over her head.

Dean has released his cock, is fisting it while he watches her undress herself in front of him, groans when he sees her nakedness.

“Beautiful,” He lets out, smirking a little. It’s a boyish grin and that’s when he slips out of his role a little, she thinks. With his next breath, he catches himself again.

Normally she’s pretty self-conscious, but she has the feeling that the guy standing before her who’s ready to get his cock wet, doesn’t mind how she looks since they came this far already. Plus, the light’s still off, but the light from the moon and skyscrapers shines in, making her see enough to want him even more.

His dick is heavy and hard in his fist, as he massages it up and down. Her mouth waters at the sight.

“Get down on your knees,”

God, yes.

Finally.

Y/N kneels before him and Dean takes a step further in as he groans. Her mouth is already open and inviting, but he takes his time, rubs his heavy dick over her face.

“Looking so good for daddy, baby,” He huffs out.

The rubbing smears his precum on her face. She feels wet drops here and there and the scent of his arousal is intoxicating. God, it’s making her drool.

“You want my dick, huh?” He asks, tapping his dick lightly to her cheek, “Want to show me how good you suck cock?”

“God, yes,” She agrees with a frantic nod of her head.

“Call me daddy, baby,” Dean chuckles, “Open up your mouth wider, stick out your tongue,”

She does what she’s told.

“Good girl. That’s daddy’s good girl,” He says almost fondly and slaps his dick against her awaiting tongue, “Now suck,”

Well, she doesn’t need to be told twice. Sealing her lips around the head, she starts to suckle at it and Dean groans, throws his head back as she looks up.

“That’s right,” He whispers as soon as he catches himself, “Look up at me, I want to see how much you like sucking my cock, baby,”

She tries her best, she really does. His cock is thick, the taste of precum and a day’s worth of musk is heavy on her tongue, the scent penetrating her nose. It makes her suck him harder, makes her leak profoundly between her legs because she just wants him so fucking much.

“Spread your legs, touch yourself,” Dean mumbles, “I wanna see you touching yourself, baby. Wanna see you make yourself come while you suck my cock,”

Oh god, yes. She’s so close too. It’s no wonder, as she’s been balancing on that fucking edge since he fingered her in the club.

Spreading her leg but still on her knees, she pushes a hand in between, fingers herself, and rubs against her clit. The sound of her wetness is loud in the room. Dean groans when he hears it.

“So fucking good, baby girl,” He huffs out. His hand comes to push a strand of hair out of her face to see her better, “Sucking daddy’s cock so well,”

“Mmmh,” She hums in approval with his dick in her mouth and fuck, hearing him praise her just does things to her and she comes, quick, hard, humming and shrieking with his cock in her mouth. It makes him push his pelvis against her harder, making her choke when the tip of his dick hits her throat.

“Good girl,” Dean hums as he pulls his dick back but he leaves her to suckle at his tip, “Such a good girl for daddy, I’m so proud,” His hand finds the side of her face, applies pressure on his palms as he grips it, “I’m going go fuck your face, okay? Can you take that, huh? Take my dick?”

She looks up and hums, nodding her head.

He smiles down fondly, his teeth showing white and the crinkles around his eyes run deep. His grip around her face tightens a bit as he starts to fuck into her mouth, getting deeper inside with every thrust and she braces her hands on his thighs, fingers gripping at the fabric of his pants when she feels his dick choking her.

Dean presses his pelvis to her face, his pubic hair tickles her nose and he stays there for a while until she taps at his thigh because she feels like she’s going to pass out if he doesn’t let her come up for air.

And it’s weird. Really weird. She should be scared of doing this with a stranger, yet she trusts him. He has won her trust in such a short span of time. Some would call it naivety.

When he releases her face, she gulps for hair, trying to fill her lungs before he thrusts in again and he does. He gets faster too. The drool is running down her throat, her chest is wet.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers between thrusts, “Your mouth is fucking perfect, baby. You taking my cock so well,”

It makes her wetter hearing it and she’s sure that there’s a pool of her juice right below her.

“You want my come, baby? Want me to come in your mouth?”

Oh, god. More than anything right now.

She wants to feel him, to fucking taste him, so she nods her head as he stops his thrusts for a second.

Dean grins cockily. It’s really a good look on him, “Take it all, okay? But don’t swallow yet. Keep it in your mouth, baby,”

Another nod.

“Jesus,” He groans as he picks up his thrusting, “You’re perfect, baby girl, so good for daddy,”

His thrusts are faster before he comes and when he does, he lets out a deep growl as he pulls his cock out and fills her mouth with his cum.

Y/N does as she was told. She doesn’t swallow, instead, she opens her mouth, letting him pour in every drop he can milk out of that beautiful cock of his.

Dean’s spent dick is getting softer, but it still looks impressive, at least when it dangles so close to her face.

There’s a drop of cum on the corner of her mouth and he scoops it up with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth. His eyes are on her, a glow around him after his release. It makes him even more attractive and she wonders how fate is sometimes cruel to give her something she craves but takes it away again because it’s a one night stand. That’s all there is. He knows it as much as she does.

His other hand goes up below her eyes, brushes away the smeared mascara and with his thumb still in her mouth he tries to angle his stance to get her other eye as well.

Her mouth is full of cum and drool, almost spilling over but Dean takes his time, stands back to marvel at her.

“You look so pretty,” He says, again with a fond undertone, “Would take a picture if I could,” The cum’s floating over, and Dean pushes his thumb inside her mouth some more, “You may swallow now, baby,”

She does, closes her eyes to get the thickness of his cum down with his thumb still in her mouth. She sucks at the digit, signaling to him that it’s all gone.

“Open up,” He whispers, “Show me,”

Y/N smiles when she does, opens her mouth wide to show him that she’s swallowed it all.

He chuckles, “Good girl, you’re really a good fucking girl, baby,”

Taking his thumb out, he brushes it along her lips before he grabs at her arm and pulls her up. He kisses her then, letting out a languished groan when he tastes himself on her tongue.

“Down the hallway, the room to the left. I want you spread out on my bed, play with yourself okay?”

Dean kisses her on her nose and she nods before she makes her way to his bedroom. Climbing on his bed, she positions herself with her back against the headboard and spreads her legs. Her one hand plays with her pussy, fingers dipping in deep, before rubbing at her clit wetly. She closes her eyes, thinks about what just happened. Thinks about his voice that she’ll probably never forget. Thinks about his taste that she won’t be able to erase out of her mind.

It’s not long before Dean joins her, in one hand bottled water, in the other are her clothes and shoes. He’s really being considerate. Or he’s a neat freak. Either or. Not that it matters.

He drapes her clothes over a chair next to the bed, sets her shoes right below it before he unscrews the water and hands it over to her to drink. The coldness of it travels down her throat, making her shiver. Maybe she shivers of anticipation too, who knows.

Setting the water on the nightstand, Dean continues to undress, taking off his suit jacket and drapes it over another chair. While doing it, his eyes are on her.

She’s still rubbing herself, fondles her tits one-handed too, pinching her nipple, and arches her back.

“That’s it,” Dean croons, “Touch yourself, but don’t make yourself come, I wanna feel you come on daddy’s cock,”

Oh god.

She wants that too.

He watches her some more as his fingers slowly unbutton his shirt. Too slowly and it’s not fair because she just knows that he’s teasing her. When he takes his shirt off, she can see how broad he is, can see the muscles moving. He’s soft and firm and so fucking delicious. By the time Dean takes off his underwear, his dick is already more than semi hard. It’s impressive, really. She still can’t believe that she had that down her throat.

When he’s naked before her, he tugs at his cock, jerks it while his eyes are on her and he walks closer, climbing on the bed and walks closer to where she is on his knees.

“Jesus,” He growls, “You’re making me hard again, baby,”

There’s a smile tugging at her lips as a sense of pride washes over her.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” She says it in her best sultry voice.

“No,”

“No?” She frowns a little.

Dean chuckles, “No, I gotta taste you first,” He shoulders himself between her thighs, “Be a good girl, hold your legs up for daddy,”

Shamelessly, she hooks her arms around the back of her knee as she pulls them up and apart, almost folding herself in half. That’s how eager she is to spread for him.

His big hands are on the back of her thighs, helping push her back as he hovers above her wet pussy, “That’s my good girl,” He chuckles, warm air hitting her core, and she trembles.

He doesn’t stall, instead, he buries his face right in there, sucking and lapping around her sensitive nub like it’s the only thing that keeps him the fuck alive.

“Your cunt’s so sweet, baby,” He moans, as he spreads kisses all over her pussy, “Could eat you for days,”

Alternatively, he switches from sucking to lapping, and her hand finds his hair fingers, pulling at it, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. He even starts to hum and that drives her fucking crazy.

It’s when he pushes in a thick finger that she almost loses it. Has to throw her head back and close her eyes when he curves the finger just right. He soon uses another finger, rubbing against her inner wall with it while he sucks at her clit and she just knows. She just fucking knows that she’s going to come again.

Her grip tightens in his hair, fingers digging into his scalp but Dean goes on, licking her and sucking her while he thrusts his fingers inside of her.

“Da- fuck- daddy,” She bites on her lip and the wave that hits her is strong, making her release her own legs, making her squeeze them around Dean’s head, “Fuck, oh my god,”

Dean chuckles as he spreads kitten licks on her clit. He pulls his fingers out and they pop out with a wet squelching sound, “You’re doing so good for me, baby, but please, call me daddy,”

The way he looks up from between her legs makes her heart race faster. Half of his face is drenched with her slick and there’s a glisten in his eyes while his lips are crooked into a smile that’s full of bravado.

He’s still fingering her lazily, circling his thumb soothingly around her clit, not applying too much pressure because he knows that she’s sensitive. Dean leans down and kisses her, swirls his tongue around her own. He parts with a bite on her lip, making her squeal and laugh.

“Can you fuck me now, daddy? Please?” She pouts a little for the effect but god, she’s so desperate for his cock. Desperate to feel him inside of her.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this and you can say no, okay?” He starts while he lays himself next to her, kissing the side of her face while he rubs between her legs. Dean dips down sucking a nipple into his mouth, bites on that too, chuckles when she moans.

“What?” She asks, fearing the worst. Fearing that he’ll say that it’s been a mistake and he only wanted to go this far and no further, fearing that maybe he’ll say that he’s too tired, or that he wants to put off fucking her for real for another day, or fuck, what does she know? There are so many possibilities that run through her mind right now.

Dean noses along her cheek, his nose is still damp, and she can smell her scent off him, “I was wondering if I could fuck you without condom, and before you say anything, I know it’s stupid but god, you feel so fucking good around my cock and you’re so fucking wet, I really want to feel it,”

Oh.

Y/N can’t believe what she’s going to say either. She’s never been so careless before but fuck, she’s really so far gone, and as she said before, she doesn’t know what it is but she fucking trusts Dean.

“I can’t believe that I’m saying it either, but please please, fuck me raw, daddy,”

“Jesus,” Dean groans as he quickly captures her mouth, tongue swiveling against her own. He sucks in her tongue before he releases it, “Come on, get on top of me,”

With one swift movement, he manages to manhandle her on top of him and she straddles his body, moving down inch by inch. He groans out again when she feels her leaving her wetness on his body on her way down.

Spreading herself over his hard cock, she grinds her pussy lips on it, slicks it up with her juice, teasing him in the process.

“Fuck, baby girl, don’t be a tease now,”

She chuckles but doesn’t stop and he lets her, probably enjoying the view and her playfulness. When she’s had enough and almost bursts herself, she grabs at his cock and points it upwards. Slowly, oh so slowly, she lets herself down.

Dean let out a groan, bites down on his bottom lip as she works her way further down his shaft. He helps a little, pushing his hips up, and down again when she manages to take all of him.

Her hands are braced on his chest and he rubs along her thighs. She needs a moment to get used to it, her walls fluttering around his girth.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mutters under his breath, “You feel so fucking good, baby, like I thought you would. So wet and tight,”

Y/N’s plenty wet, Dean’s right about that and she gets even wetter as she starts to bounce on his shaft.

“So good, baby,” He coos, his hands on her hips, helping her guide herself up and down, “So pretty bouncing on daddy’s cock, fuck,” His one hand goes to her tit, squeezes it tight before he slaps down on her nipple, “That’s it, baby, fuck me,”

And that, she does. His words make her wetter, make her bounce on top of him harder. Up until she’s worn out and retorts to grinding.

Dean pulls her down by her arms, kisses her as he thrusts his hips up to not lose the rhythm, “Is my baby tired, huh?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Should daddy take over?”

“Yes, please,”

With a chuckle, Dean turns them both around until he’s on top, without slipping out of her. He gets up on his knees and pulls her closer by her legs so that her ass is on top of his thighs as he begins to fuck her deep and slow.

“Like that, baby?” He asks with one thumb circling her clit.

“Uh-huh,”

There’s really no coherent word that she could bring past her lips.

“Yeah?” He asks as he thrusts harder. He changes angles then, puts her down on her back and pushes her legs up so that he can thrust in even harder, “Like it hard?”

“Fuck, yeah,”

“That’s a good girl, baby,” Dean whispers, “Your cunt, that’s mine tonight, isn’t it?”

His thrust gets deeper, just the way she likes it, making her roll her eyes to the back every time he hits her cervix.

“Yours,” She manages to say, “Fuck,”

“Who am I, baby girl?”

“Shit,”

He starts to rub her clit while his slows his thrusting, but he still goes in deep, reaches her every corner where she wants him most, “Tell me, I want to hear you say it,”

“Daddy-, fuck, daddy, you’re my daddy,”

“That’s right, baby girl,” He coos, “I want you to remember that, okay? Remember who makes you feel good,”

He talks like she could ever forget him. It’s so fucking hard to and she doesn’t think she’d be able to even if she would try.

“Oh my-,” She bites on her tongue, knows that she should say his name, “Daddy, I’m fuck- you’re going to make me come,”

“That's okay, baby, come,” He pants, “I wanna feel you coming on my fat cock, can you do that for daddy, huh?” His one hand goes to her throat, claws around it and squeezes it just right. It gives her the much added trigger to explode.

Fuck , who taught him to fucking talk like this?

Dean chuckles, “I can already feel your cunt squeezing around me, baby, you’re close, so fucking close, ain’t you? Come now,”

It’s not like she needs permission, they didn’t work that out but fuck, if she’s not a good girl. So she comes, right around his cock. He releases his hand around her throat, brushing over it just lightly to smooth away the pain.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dean groans as her walls squeeze down on him. His movement starts to falter and she can feel that he’s holding himself together, “You feel so good coming on my cock, baby. You just got tighter too, fuck,”

It’s about only three hard thrusts later that he starts to tremble, “Where do you want me to come?”

She looks up at him, her hands curl around his biceps with every hard hit to her cervix, “I want, fuck, I want you to come inside, daddy, please? Wanna feel your cum running out for days,”

“Baby, you’re a fucking nasty girl, ain’t you? Fuck,”

Oh god. He’s right because that’s what she fucking is. She has no shame whatsoever.

“Gonna come so deep in your cunt, baby, mark it as mine,” He thrusts faster but not as deep anymore, “How does that sound?”

“Please,” She is basically begging him.

“That’s my good girl, taking my cock so well and now my girl wants my cum too, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” He growls low, and pushes in twice more, hitting her cervix before he stills and spills his cum deep inside of her.

Dean lets himself fall on top of her, braces his elbows on the side of her face so as to not crush her. He dips his head down, kisses her deep and tender while his dick still twitches inside of her with his release.

They took a shower together after that, cleaning themself off their filth and cum, and Dean’s worn out but he couldn’t help himself, made her come again in the shower on his dick alone with his thumb buried in her ass as he fucked her from behind. If he should fuck her again, he wants to try that back hole too, is almost sure that she’d let him because she went nuts when he stuck his thumb in there. Jesus, he hopes there’ll be a next time. It doesn't happen often that he wants to see a one night stand again, but with her, he’s ready to make an exception.

Now she’s really tired and almost falls asleep in his arms while he carries her over to his bed. Dean tucks her in and slides in next to her, pulling her into him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He kisses her gently, hand brushes away the hair from her face, knuckles grazing her cheeks.

He feels her smile into the kiss.

“Thank you,” She whispers and is already drifting off.

Dean chuckles, “You’re really something else, baby,”

He wakes in the morning, realizes that the bed next to him is empty. Tilting his head around, Dean looks at the chair, sees that her clothes are gone along with her shoes.

Heaving his aching body from the bed, he sits up and rubs his hands over his face, “Fuck,”

She’s gone. Dean doesn’t even have her number. He really doubts he’ll see her again and that’s a fucking shame.

Monday rolls around and Dean’s nervous.

He’s pissed too, because he called Gabe and persuaded his friend to go to the club again but of course she wasn’t there. He waited longer than he should have, turned down four girls because he wanted to meet the right one. He had been losing sleep because it had gotten late and the thought of having to be in the office in five hours doesn’t help.

So he sits in the meeting room, waiting for his bosses to arrive to maybe fire him, even though he fucking aced the presentation to the project this morning.

“Hello Winchester,” Mr. Turner says as he sits down and Mrs. Mills takes the chair next to Mr. Turner. They sit across from him.

“Mrs. Mills,” He nods, “Mr. Turner,”

“Have you been informed why we called you in today?”

“Not, really no.” Dean shakes his head as he rubs his sweaty hands on his slacks.

Mrs. Mills smiles, “We are thinking that you’re doing a great job,”

“I am?” He cocks an eyebrow, as if he can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Mr. Turner chimes in, “The reason for this meeting is this. You know that Mr. Campbell is retiring in a couple of weeks, right?”

“Yeah,”

Dean knows. He’s been invited to the farewell party organized by Mr. Samuel Campbell himself.

“Right,” Mrs. Turner nods, “We are considering you for the position.”

“Really?” He can’t hide the grin, and even if it’s a job he absolutely doesn’t want, it feels great to be considered for it.

“There’s a catch, though,” Mrs. Miller says and of course there is. There’s always a catch in this company.

“We have a newcomer from an external company who also applied for the job. The person has a good reputation and great recommendation letters.”

Of course. Dean nods. They always have.

“We want to watch the two of you for about a week, two tops, see how much you’re willing to give of yourself, how driven you both are. We’re going to make a decision and please don’t take it personally if it’s not you. I’m sure the next position that opens up will be glad to have you.”

“Is this a competition?”

“See it as such, yeah. We talked about it in the boardroom and we really think it’s fair to give the other person a chance to get some more work experience in the company before we would consider them suitable for the job. With you, Mr. Winchester, we already know it, but that doesn’t mean that you have the job for sure.”

“Right,”

He’s never good at losing but that’s because Dean never loses. He’ll have an advantage over that dude. It’s probably going to be a piece of cake. He barely has to lift a finger, probably.

“Are you ready to meet your competition? There are projects you have to work on together, so it would be good if you get acquainted with each other.” Mrs. Mills asks.

“Sure,” Dean shrugs with a nod.

Mrs. Mills gets up from her chair to walk to the door. She opens it and keeps it open wide and then it feels like the air has been punched out of Dean’s lungs.

He’d recognize that face anywhere. He also remembers those long legs in heels.

“Mr. Winchester, meet your new colleague, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,”

Chapter Two

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#what i want most #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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dixonsmonroe · 3 years

Text

Near To You

Summary: Daryl and Rick had everything, until they didn’t. But when Daryl meets Jesus, he learns that there are always second chances when it comes to love.

Pairing: Daryl x Rick, Daryl x Jesus

Word count: 4k

Author’s notes: i actually found this in my google docs other day and apparently i wrote this 2 years ago so enjoy!

Warning: mentions of smut (18+), fluff, pining, canon level violence, i will never stop loving desus

Daryl hadn’t taken kindly to Rick right away. He didn’t like him when they were still at the camp and Rick had a gun to Daryl’s head, and told him in his best ‘good-cop’ voice, “We don’t kill the living.” It was like that for a while; anytime Rick started off on his pep talks, Daryl wanted to knock him in the teeth. The longer Merle was gone, though, the pep talks became less annoying and even kind of comforting.

After they left the CDC and ended up at the farm, Daryl still kept his distance, but did whatever Rick needed him to. He actually enjoyed being around him, and working in a group as a team. He felt useful around the farm; it was work he knew how to do. He also noticed the only time he was ever annoyed at Rick anymore was when Shane was around. Shane would make some dumbass remark, Daryl would antagonize him, and Rick would keep them from fighting. Shane would leave and Rick would just look apologetically at Daryl, who would shrug it off and assure everything was fine.

Nothing had ever happened until the prison. They had been there for a while, and after Lori died, Rick had started to come back to them bit by bit. He was currently in a peaceful farming phase, which was plentiful for the group, but still a little out of character.

Rick met Daryl in the guard tower for first watch shifts after everyone went to bed.

“The place is lookin’ good,” Rick looked out over the whole prison, over the crops they had grown and the reinforcements around the walls. “We really made this place home.”

“Took a lotta work, but it was worth it.” Daryl replied, smoking his cigarette, “You got us all here.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my right hand,” he smiled. Daryl stifled a grin and looked away, trying not to let Rick see him blush.

They had been together like this a thousand times, just the two of them, hanging out. They were best friends, they were family. But sometimes Rick would laugh a certain way or he’d get all focused and solemn or he would push his hair out of his face and Daryl would freeze up. Rick was a strong leader, and a good friend. He had Daryl’s full loyalty.

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Much better. Rick nodded. “I know I lost it a little bit, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m figuring things out.”

“You need anything, lemme know.”

Rick stared out the window in silence for a few moments. “There might be something.”

Daryl glanced at Rick, who was now looking at him, albeit a bit nervously.

“What’s that?”

Rick looked hesitant now, like he was mentally backing out of whatever he was going to say. He leaned closer to Daryl still, until their hands were touching. Daryl glanced at Rick out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Rick’s body heat so incredibly close, and it made him shiver. Rick finally took his hand and held it as they looked out across the yard. Daryl fought back a grin and gave Rick’s hand a squeeze, leaning against him.

Nothing more had happened until about two weeks later. In those two weeks there had still been plenty of secret hand holding, stolen smiles and glances, the like. But one day after an especially tolling run, Daryl had made his decision. It had been rough out there; it was him, Rick, and Maggie, the car had stalled and they almost got taken out by a hoard. Daryl watched Rick almost get bit and he felt like he was about to lose everything he cared about. He had thrown the walker off of him after stabbing it and helped Rick up. He patted Daryl’s shoulder and nodded towards the car.

The moment they knew they were completely alone back at the prison, Daryl kissed Rick. The best part was Rick kissed him back, as if this was normal, as if it was how it had always been. Rick’s hand went to Daryl’s cheek and they leaned their foreheads together.

“I—“ Daryl started but Rick cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to do it first, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Me too.” Daryl replied. “Figured you almost dyin’ was as good a reason as any.”

Rick chuckled, leaning back a bit, thumb running over Daryl’s cheekbone.

That was how it was after that. They didn’t tell anyone, not Glenn, not Carol, not anybody. There were nights where they would sneak off to an abandoned cell or hallway and just take their time, take in every bit of each other.

One night was different. Rick still had Daryl pushed up against the wall, still inside of him as they came down, slowing their breathing.

“I love you,” Rick breathed out so quietly, Daryl wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. He just turned his head around his shoulder and kissed Rick sweet and soft. Rick’s eyes were a little wide, pride and ego slowly melting away.

“I love you,” Daryl said finally. Of course he did. He always had.

It was like that for a while; sneaking off to fuck after everyone went to sleep, spending guard shifts paying attention to their job, but also pausing to make out like teenagers or just talking about everything. It was bliss Daryl had never experienced in his life, and it was with his absolute best friend.

The day the prison got broken into, Daryl left with Beth and there was no sign of Rick anywhere.

He and Beth had been through some shit, Daryl had gotten drunk and acted like a total asshole, and Beth was nothing but understanding, even though he may not have deserved it. That night, they sat on the porch of the house they had found, having a heart to heart. Beth, even with her naive nature that made Daryl have hope but also made him a little bitter. He’d never had the option to be optimistic in his life, always on high alert.

“You wanna know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked softly. “I was no one. Nothin’.”

Beth looked sad for a moment, but nodded for him to keep going.

“Until I found Rick and the group.” He continued. He had never told anyone about him and Rick, never ever. But Beth was understanding, and as much as she talked or sang or whatever, he knew he could trust her. She and Maggie felt like the younger sisters he never had.

“Rick and I—“ he took a breath before he spilled all the things he had never told anyone. “We were together. We’ve always been close, always been his right hand. But at some point it was more than that.”

Beth grinned dreamily. “Do you love him?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face thinking about it. Everything was shit right now, but despite everything he’d said when he yelled at her earlier, he knew they had to find Rick and their family.

“We’ll find them again,” Beth reassured. “We’re going to.”

He had lost Beth. He was alone, until he found the Claimers. He missed Beth, he missed having someone he trusted and who kept him sane. These guys were brutal, they were guys he knew not to cross.

The night they had found the guy Joe was looking for, Daryl heard a voice and immediately knew who he was.

Daryl heard Joe threatening Rick, so he stepped out of the shadows.

“Joe!” he said, causing him to turn towards Daryl. “You gotta let these guys go. They’re good people.”

He made quick eye contact with Rick, careful not to give anything away but screaming on the inside because Rick looked both terrified and relieved to see him. Michonne looked angry, but also so fucking scared at the same time.

He argued with Joe, he really tried.

“Hey, you want blood. I get it.” Daryl put his crossbow down and held his arms out. “Take it from me, man.”

The blows started almost immediately. The other Claimers just started wailing on him as hard as they could. He was praying he didn’t crack a rib or get kicked in the face or fucking die.

Joe’s voice was barely audible to him, Daryl’s heart pounding in his ears. “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’re gonna have the girl. Then the boy. Then I’m gonna kill you.”

Daryl knew he had to get up, he had to fight back, he had to save them. He had seen a man drag Carl out of the car and throw him on the ground, holding him down and unbuckling his belt. Oh, fuck no.

He listened to Rick plead with Joe, pleaded with him to let his son go, just let him go.

A gunshot rang through the air. The men stopped beating Daryl, and he got up to fight. It was rough, and he saw Rick stagger against the noise, and when Rick seemed almost incapable of fighting any longer, he looked Joe in the eye.

“What are you gonna do now?” Joe taunted, before Rick bit down on his neck and tore out his jugular.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he just saw, Rick unhinged and willing to do anything to protect his own.

They killed the other men, left them in the road and rested until morning.

Rick was sitting on the ground, back against the car, still covered in blood. Daryl poured a little water on a rag and handed it to him.

“We should save that to drink.” Rick said.

“You can’t see yourself, he can.” Daryl nodded toward Carl in the car. Daryl sat down next to him while he cleaned his face. “I didn’t know what they were.” he said sadly.

“How’d you end up with them?”

Daryl looked down at his lap. “I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while.”

There was a pause of silence until Rick asked if she was dead. Daryl shook his head and said she was just gone. He told him how he ended up with the Claimers, how they were looking for some guy, how he’d almost left them, but didn’t.

“That’s when I saw it was you three, right when you saw me.” His voice was sad and low. “I didn’t know what they could do.”

“It’s not on you, Daryl.” Rick took his hand. “You bein’ back here with us now, that’s everything.”

This was the first bit of physical contact they’d had since the prison. Daryl finally felt warm, even with how much he hurt after being beaten half to death, Rick’s hand on his was everything he needed right now.

“I love you,” Rick said quietly. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Daryl nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rick said it, but Daryl could tell he was still shaken up.

“Hey, what you did last night; Anybody would’ve done that.” he said reassuringly.

“No, not that.” Rick replied. Now he looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Rick had gotten violent before, but it was always to protect someone. His family was in danger and he saved them. “It ain’t all of it, but that’s me.”

Daryl knew how sad he looked, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re a good man. You protect your own,” Daryl lowered his voice a bit. “You’re the person I fell in love with, no matter what you do.”

Rick leaned into him until his head was resting on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

They made it through Terminus. They made it through Grady hospital. They had most of the group back.

They lost Beth.

Daryl barely spoke the entire time they walked towards Washington. His family was there for him, and gave him enough space at the same time. Now that they had more people, Rick was busy leading all of them. Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, but they began to drift apart. Things were rough, until they found Alexandria. Rick became constable, and had been making friends --and enemies-- all over. Most people respected him, but Daryl felt so out of place.

Rick had spent two nights at Daryl’s house, making sure to not draw attention to themselves. They had sex that night, but it was different. Rick was there with him, of course, but it almost felt sad. Like it was the last time they would be like this. They fit together so well before, but after all this time apart and everything they went through, they were different people.

The next night, they didn’t even fuck. They physically slept together, but that was it. Daryl had been wanting to have this conversation for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to do it after sex.

“Are you good?” Daryl asked as they lay next to each other.

Rick had his elbow on the pillow and rested his face in his hand as he turned towards Daryl. “I’m good. Are you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Feels like things are different. With us.”

Rick nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on. I’m sorry I haven’t made time for us.”

Daryl shook his head. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing so much good for everyone.” Daryl sat up then, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you’ve been eyeing Jessie. I noticed it almost the moment we got here.”

Rick sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Nothing has ever happened with her.”

“I know,” Daryl said sadly. “But I get it. I ain’t the last person on earth.”

“Daryl, I know there’s still people out there, but I made the choice to be with you, you’re not just some guy.” Rick said firmly, but Daryl heard his voice falter. “You’re not just some option.”

“I love you,” Daryl said quietly. “I’ve always loved you and I always will. But I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll always be here for you when you need me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Rick’s voice cracked. “But?”

Daryl finally looked at him and took in the heartbreak on his face. “But I need to let you go. I want you to be happy, and I’m not what makes you happy anymore.”

Rick looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, but after a moment Daryl could tell he was done denying the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Daryl took Rick into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “At least stay tonight?”

“Of course,” Rick said. “Anything for you.”

It took a few weeks before Daryl’s heart stopped feeling like it was going to fall into his stomach every time he saw Rick. He knew Rick had kissed Jessie, and he knew that it never turned into anything more. He stayed on the edges of Rick’s life, trying to keep a little bit of distance so he didn’t die from pining after his lost love.

When they did end up going on a run together, it felt like old times. Not like nothing romantic had ever happened, but that comfort he felt whenever he was with Rick. He missed his best friend, and he was starting to be okay with that being all they were.

That’s when they met Jesus. Daryl was annoyed with him immediately, but he fought back this nagging feeling of attraction. He didn’t trust the guy, and he certainly didn’t want him around his home. But little by little, Jesus started to grow on him. Before Daryl knew it, they were working together a lot more, and they worked together well. He hadn’t felt this way ever; his feelings for Rick were completely different. Jesus was not only charismatic and caring, but he was out and proud. Daryl had had one sexual relationship with a man who was openly gay, before everything went to shit, but it was still before Daryl had come out. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about what another heartbreak would do to him at this point.

The Hilltop was bustling with activity. Everyone was doing some sort of work; laundry or farming or building something. Daryl was making new arrows on the Barrington House porch, and Rick was beside him lacing his boots and waiting for Maggie to come by. She and Rick had some sort of business to discuss between the two communities.

“First nice day we’ve had in a while,” Rick said, pushing his curls out of his face. “You goin’ hunting before the party tonight?”

“Yeah, gonna try and bring back something big.” Daryl nodded. “I don’t know what you mean, though. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Rick laughed. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a leather vest everywhere.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his arrows. He eventually felt Rick nudge him, and when he looked up he saw Jesus and Maggie down the street walking towards them.

“Y’know, I think he likes you.” Rick said.

Daryl looked at him and scoffed. Rick was trying to wingman for him now, great.

Daryl looked back in Jesus’ direction. He did actually have a little bit of a crush on the guy; he was a good goddamn fighter, but still a gentle, caring person. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey,” Jesus greeted them as they walked onto the sidewalk.

“Rick, you ready?” Maggie asked.

Rick stood up and patted Daryl on the shoulder. “Ready. Hey, Jesus, you busy today?”

Jesus shrugged. “No, not really. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, the smile undeniable in his voice. Daryl knew exactly what was about to happen, fuck. “Daryl’s goin’ huntin’ today. Trying to have enough food for the party tonight and then some, couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Rick nodded and walked off the porch and off with Maggie.

“Bye, Daryl!” Maggie threw Daryl a smirk over her shoulder. This was a goddamn conspiracy, Daryl knew it.

“So, when were you planning on heading out?” Jesus asked.

Daryl cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his face. “Probably twenty minutes? Gotta finish these arrows and then I’m ready.”

“Cool, I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Jesus walked toward his trailer and Daryl watched after him the whole way. Jesus definitely liked him as a friend at least, they had started staying closer to each other during missions, often opting to work together. They made a good team, and Rick definitely noticed, putting them together on jobs a lot more recently.

It had been a good hunt, Daryl and Jesus hauled back a deer and a few squirrels. When they were done there was about an hour before the party started. They started walking toward Barrington House so Daryl could get changed and Jesus and Maggie could catch up on the day.

“Y’know, I’m kind of excited for tonight.” Jesus said optimistically. “I never used to be the party type, but this feels more...I don’t know, comfortable, I guess.”

Daryl nodded. “Parties are different when they’re with family.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a total party animal.” Jesus nudged him and Daryl smirked back at him.

They walked into the house and said hi to Rick in the foyer.

Jesus started heading up the stairs and turned to Daryl. “I’ll find you at the party later.”

“See you then.” Daryl said back, and watched Jesus disappear into Maggie’s office.

“Hey, you’re gonna get drool on the floor if you don’t stop now,” Rick teased. Daryl snapped out of it and turned toward him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Daryl huffed.

“Yeah, you do.” Rick smiled. “I know that look on you, Daryl. Remember?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Shut up, Grimes.”

The party was really, really nice. Everyone was gathered around a bonfire and there were tables of food setup all around. It was homey, and full of community. Daryl leaned against a tree and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Jesus walked up to him then. He looked nice with his hair down as opposed to the bun he put it in when they were hunting. Even with the bun he looked good, which annoyed Daryl to no end. You couldn’t look that good all the time, it wasn’t fair.

“Hi,” Daryl replied. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good, it was nice to shower after today. It really is too hot for that trenchcoat.” Jesus shook his head.

Daryl shrugged. “Could just get a vest.”

Jesus smiled. “Maybe. Yours does look pretty nice.”

“I bet it’d look nice on you,” Daryl smirked. “Too bad we’ll never know.”

“Harsh,” Jesus nudged him.

They joined the party once more, until the kids started to go to bed. The adults stuck around for a while, and everyone was still drinking and eating and having fun. After drinking a good amount of whiskey, Daryl and Jesus had a slight buzz going on. They were laughing together, maybe even flirting a bit, which Daryl didn’t normally know how to do, but with Jesus it was just easy.

Jesus turned to him at one point, and it was like everyone else fell away. He saw Jesus look at his lips, then look away quickly.

“Wanna go drink some more at my place?” he asked. Daryl would’ve been nervous, but the liquid courage helped with that. He was pretty sure he knew what this meant, why Jesus wanted to be alone with him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Back at the trailer, Jesus got two cups and poured some more whiskey for them. He handed Daryl a glass and took a sip of his own. They sat on the couch, Jesus sitting against the arm so he could face Daryl.

“That was pretty fun,” Jesus said. “Felt...normal.”

“Whatever that means,” Daryl sipped his drink. “But yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad you’re around more,” Jesus said after a few moments. “It’s really nice getting to see you.”

Daryl blushed and drank a good amount of his whiskey and put it on the table.

“I like bein’ around.” Daryl’s voice was low and gravelly, the alcohol relaxing him. “I like bein’ around you.”

Jesus was the one to blush now, but he seemed a little more confident. They were sitting closer together now, one of them could easily lean in to close the space. Jesus did, after a second of contemplating, and his lips were as soft as Daryl had imagined. Daryl pushed back a bit more, deepening the kiss, and one of his hands instinctively went to Jesus’ hip. Jesus put his hand on the back of Daryl’s neck, holding him there. Jesus pulled away first, putting his forehead against Daryl’s as they breathed each other in.

“Thank god,” Jesus laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to go well.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at Jesus. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect the kiss to be bad?

“No! I mean—“ he put his hand on Daryl’s cheek and looked sincerely into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me back. I didn’t know if you’d want me to kiss you or if it was going to freak you out.”

Daryl couldn’t fight the small grin on his face. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if you wanted it.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Jesus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like something was going right.

#daryl x rick #daryl x jesus #desus #twd #rickyl #twd fanfic #twd fic #desus fic #desus fanfic #my fic

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whenimaunicorn · 4 years

Text

The Split

The Mandalorian x female Reader

(gif contributed by @bennskywalker) (much love and undying gratitude to @equalstrashflavoredtrash for constant cheerleading, support, and beta services, and saving me every time I felt stuck on a scene; and also to @cptnbvcks for indulging the Big Meat headcanon and guaranteeing it’s happening in all my fics)

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: choking, spanking, dominance/submission, threats during intimacy, rough sex Words: 8478

Summary: The Reader is a fellow Nevarran bounty hunter, working with the Mandalorian to catch a quarry and splitting the reward. They keep renegotiating the split until passions spark and other, kinkier interests start slipping out.

Full Fic:

There’s one thing you can appreciate about working with the Mandalorian: he sure knows how to be terrifying to his quarry. It’s not about bluster with him, or wild threats that can make a hunter seem unhinged; it’s in his sheer presence. He’s caught up to the quarry you’ve been tracking together, and now he looms over his prey like he’s inevitable.

‘Course, you’d never let him know he even made you shiver. “Enough with the dramatics,” you say to him, coming up behind the cowering bounty and yanking her arms together behind her back. “I’m the one that got her blaster out of her hand, and that’s the hardest part. Once they’re disarmed it’s all over. That ups my cut to 70%.”

A frustrated little hiss emanates from your business partner. He points that looming mask more squarely at you. “Fifty-five was what we agreed,” he says, words clipped. “And that was only because you had the specific location—”

“Without which your schedule wouldn’t have been worth shit,” you finish for him, pressing the binder around your quarry’s wrists. At least, the metal cuff clicks shut around one of them…

Suddenly the woman is whirling around, slamming the solid metal of the binder, hanging off just one wrist, right into your stomach.

You try to grab her but the momentum is not in your favor, especially with the wind knocked squarely out of your gut. You brace your hands on your knees, willing yourself not to fall completely down as you fight the pain, not in front of Mando, and manage to suck in a decent breath as you look up with involuntary tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Just in time to see the Mandalorian grab the woman by the throat, stopping her escape in its tracks. He shoves her to her knees, bristling with frank irritation, and presses the muzzle of his blaster to the side of her skull. “Stay down.”

You stagger one step in their direction. Your gut hurts just about as much as your pride.

You can’t see a smirk on that cold metal face, but you know there has to be one as he looks over at you. “What were you saying about the hard part of the job being over? I’ll take that seventy.”

“This gets you maybe an extra five,” you wheeze, stomping to the quarry kneeling at his feet and jamming her other hand into the binder where it belongs. “And you’re forgetting that I was the one that noticed her sneaking out that hatch in the back.”

Another one of his annoying silences follows, the one where he stands so still and makes you wait, just guessing what thoughts might be bouncing around inside the helmet. “And she’s going back in my ship. My fuel, my carbonite. I’ll take sixty.”

You huff.

“You’re the one that started this. I would have been fine with the original agreement.”

You roll your eyes. “We’ll talk about it after she’s loaded in.”

“Up,” the Mandalorian barks at the quarry, digging those orange-tipped fingers into the cloth covering her shoulder and hauling her to her feet.

The woman complies, looking defeated, and you all start walking across the plateau toward where the Razor Crest has been hidden. Mando’s been in the game too long to pay docking fees at an official spaceport on a planet so chaotic that you can get away without.

Soon enough, the quarry says what everyone with a price on their head says, once the binders are tight around their wrists. “You know, you two really don’t have to worry about your split. Just let me get back to my guys, I can pay you each as much as that whole price on my head.”

You snort. “If that were true, we wouldn’t have found you working in such a shit-hole. No way the syndicate values you that much.”

“I seem to recall a story about you taking up a quarry on an offer like that once,” Mando’s modulator emits at you. He slows his pace so he can see your face as the three of you trudge across the uneven ground. “Didn’t it end with another Guild member finding you stripped and tied up in a cellar? That would have been a sight to see.”

“I heard that story too,” you shoot back. “Wasn’t me. But if you want to see me like that, Mando, maybe you can try to play your cards right a little later…” you force your mouth to close. Not the most well-thought-out comeback. Nor the kind of thing to say if you want a fellow Hunter’s respect. Which you do. It’s just that there’s something about the Mandalorian that’s damned enticing, that makes you wonder if he ever loosens up even a little, lets anyone touch the warm body that’s gotta be somewhere underneath all that armor.

“I know a good hotel in the East Quarter,” the quarry pipes up before Mando gives you a response, “soft mattresses, and real good soundproofing in the walls. Maybe you two need to work out some of this sexual tension before taking me back to the ship? You can just stick me in another room until you’re done.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d just twiddle your thumbs and wait real nice for us.” You stick your blaster into her ribs and prod her to move faster, just for being annoying. “Sweet of you to be so generous, but don’t worry. He and I’ll have plenty of privacy while you’re stashed away in carbonite for the ride to Nevarro.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet turns toward you sharply.

“What? It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mando, but I always collect in-person. I’m riding with you.”

Mando’s ship is a real bare-bones operation; it’s not much more than a cargo hold and a cockpit. It’s almost enough to make you regret insisting on coming along. You can’t find a spot to get comfortable in, and there’s nothing to do. Mando’s not helping; he’s been sitting at the controls of the ship, back perfectly straight, since take-off. The course has already been set; the eerie lines of hyperspace are streaking by, and there’s nothing in this cockpit that actually requires his attention unless something goes wrong.

“So… what do you usually do while you’re in hyperspace?” you finally ask, slouching against the cockpit wall.

Mando’s hands turn palm up. “This.”

“You serious?”

He shrugs. “Good time to meditate.”

You look out at the rushing stars. “You have got to be kidding me. I’d go completely crazy in about five minutes.”

“You probably would,” he says. So calm, so matter-of-fact.

You look down at him sharply. He hasn’t moved a muscle, though he could be looking at you sideways through his visor and you’d never know. Infuriating. You plop down into the seat behind him. “You don’t think I’m capable of being quiet?”

“I’ve never known you to be.”

You flip your hair. “Some of us have a thing called ‘people skills.’ But it doesn’t look like they cover that in Mandalorian school.”

Now he turns his face toward yours. “Is that what you think you have.”

You nod, stifling the quick words that heat up your tongue so you can prove how quiet you can be.

“I’ve seen you try to get free drinks from soldiers that haven’t had shore leave in months, and still not be able to seal the deal.”

Mando? Teasing you? That’s new. You scoff at the accusation. “You just left too early. You would have seen where that night went. Try loosening up a little sometimes.”

Another silence. Then he swivels away from you, back to his perfect posture. “No thanks.”

“What are you jealous?”

The stack of armor in the pilot’s seat gives you no reaction at all.

You exhale loudly. “You know, I always thought you must have had some other kind of life to go back to, the way you drop those pucks off with Karga and never stick around.” You glance down the ladder at the empty cargo hatch, thinking of the junky little cot you saw crammed into a closet down there. “But you really live like this? Nothing but work for you, huh. Is that what it takes to be the best hunter in the sector?”

His helmet moves a fraction in your direction. “At least you can admit it.”

Your face gets hot. You did not mean to give that to him. “Some people say that about you.” You cross your arms, trying to get more comfortable by throwing your feet up on the control panel to his left.

He rolls his neck, beskar facing pointedly at your feet until you huff and move them.

Your frustration cracks into all-out mockery. “Ooh,” you blurt out in a sing-song voice, “I’m Mando, when I’m not hunting I sit perfectly straight and stare into space; my capture rate is near-perfect because I never sleep and guns are my religion.”

His helmet tilts above his metal-encased shoulder, dangerously close to actually looking at you again. “If you’re going to keep running your mouth like that, I can think of a few ways to make you shut up.”

It takes you a moment to recover from the rush that shoots through your body, a confusing mix of adrenaline and frank arousal as he speaks to you with the tone he usually reserves for quarries. Then you bark out a laugh. “Mando! Did you just make a dirty joke?”

Slowly he swivels the chair toward you, until he’s facing you squarely with his legs spread and fists on his knees. “I suppose you could take it that way.”

And then he just sits there, staring at you, as you decide which way to take it. Was he trying to say he hadn’t meant it as a come-on? That you’re the only one here with a dirty mind, that immediately imagined him shoving his cock down your throat? Fuck. Or does he want you to take it that way, to climb into his lap and sit your ass down on the battered metal plate covering his thigh…

You have to shake your head a little to make the thoughts stop. That is so not what he means. “You’re just mad that we make a great team,” you say, standing up and grinning, trying a new tactic. “That after almost bungling the hunt today,” the helmet cocks sharply at that accusation, “you realize that you need me. I’ve got skills you can’t even come close to.”

It’s hard to determine what sound comes out of his modulator, but you think it’s a snort. “What are you talking about.”

“My aforementioned people skills, for a start. Don’t forget I was the one that took in that warlord on Strigoth by getting him to follow me out to the edge of town without any of his guards. Not everything has to be a shootout. And I knew the quarry today was going to run before you did.”

Mando crosses his arms over his chestplate. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m still not raising your percentage.”

“I can hack any security system since the final Imperial update release, which is most of them in the Rim, and on top of all that”—you swing your left hand in like you’re going to slap him upside the helmet, and when he lifts his arm to block, you smack him over the ear with your right—“I’m faster than you.”

You jump back instantly, not sure how he’s going to react. His body tenses up into a fighter’s crouch, starting to come up out of the chair toward you. Then he sits back down, body language deliberately relaxing. He adjusts his helmet with one hand. “You’re a child.”

“I call it playful,” you shoot back, the adrenaline rush of what you just did almost making you giggle. “Another asset you seem to be lacking.”

He only shrugs in response, then swivels back to facing the oncoming stars.

He’s given you an opening that’s impossible to resist. As soon as his back is turned you swing your open hand forward. He’s ready for it, which you basically expected, and he knocks your arm away before you can make contact with his helmet this time. And ouch, that gauntlet of his jars your forearm all the way to the bone. You make a frustrated little noise. “Well, if you want to stick to business, we still have to talk about the final terms of the split. We can go back to 55-45, if you admit that today I had the superior skills.”

“With you taking the forty-five?”

“Hell no.”

He pauses, and you think he’s about to say something mature and reasonable, like he always does. Instead, he comes back with a very calmly-worded: “I could put you out the airlock right now.”

You swear there’s a wry little tone to that modulated voice. “You’d have to catch me first”—you slap the bucket on his head again—“and we’ve already determined I’m faster than you.”

“Stop that,” he growls, finally standing up. His cloak swirls dramatically and you try to suppress the primal feelings that make you a little weak in the knees when he comes up to his full height in such close quarters.

“Make me.” The words are out of your mouth before you can decide if they’re really such a good idea.

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilts. Now it’s his turn to try and work out what you may or may not be implying. When he finally speaks, there’s a new tone in his voice, one that catches something deep in your belly and drags. “You think you can take me?”

…Can you? You may be as good a Hunter as he is, but you couldn’t say unarmed combat is one of your strong suits. And you don’t even want to think about how much he out-weighs you, especially with all that armor on. But how can you possibly eat your pride and back down after you’ve provoked this?

You look around the tiny space of the Razor Crest’s cockpit. Mando’s helmet stays squarely aimed at your face.

“A lot of expensive equipment in here,” you say casually. “Wouldn’t want to damage anything throwing down right now.”

“Mm-hmm.” His skeptical hum makes the modulator crackle. Did he just lean in closer?

At this point the sexual tension is thrumming like a mis-firing engine in the space between you. If he had a face you could read, a mouth you could tilt your face up and kiss, you’d know what to do, but this? Even your renowned ‘people skills’ are failing you now.

You look away from the impassive, dark lens that covers his eyes, and that’s when he retaliates. One heavy gloved hand whips around your side and thuds a stinging strike right into your ass. The impact knocks you forward, almost into his chest, but you stop yourself before your hands touch his breastplate.

You suck in a breath and freeze, wide eyes drawn like a magnet back to that beskar face. Mando just spanked you. Hard. Mando… just… The pain ignites an arousal so sudden and strong that you’re worried you’re about to start trembling. It would absolutely kill your reputation if any Hunter found out that your sexual tastes ran submissive, that a deep secret part of you wanted nothing but to be overpowered and forced, to be used by someone stronger than you, better than you…

You can’t think of anything to do but flee. “I… uh…” His helmet tilts again, watching your face closely as you stutter. “Yeah, I guess I was being a little too childish. I’ll stop…stop trying to make you lighten up.” Your eyes slide away from his helmet’s eye slit, unable to handle even the imagined eye contact. “I’ll leave you alone to do whatever it is you do up here. Meditate. I’m gonna go down and…” you make for the ladder to the cargo hold, “and clean my blaster.”

He just watches you go. You can still feel the impact of his hand on your ass, with every movement of your leg as you climb down the rungs of the ladder. Fuck, it’s making your pussy tingle just a badly, too. Your head has just dropped below the hatch when Mando’s modulated voice follows you down with a suggestion that sounds suspiciously like a command. “Why don’t you clean mine, too.”

You feel your face and chest getting hot as soon as you get down to the relative privacy of the ship’s lower level. If you were trying to maintain control of the conversation, you’d say something sassy back to that, not let him win an inch of dominance, but you’re not in control anymore, are you? Not of yourself, not of whatever this is that’s going on between you. And it’s so dangerous. How would you keep his respect, if your top competitor in the Guild knew this about you, what you wanted him to do to you…

Mando’s weapon rack is set into the wall across from the ladder. Certainly there’s cleaning supplies stashed somewhere in that section, but you’re too shaky to get right to work. Instead, you walk down along the racks of carbonite, idly inspecting his cargo as you try and pull yourself together.

Four of the racks are currently occupied; the Mandalorian has been busy. Each one is tagged with a bounty’s chain code. You recognize two of them from Karga’s list. Quarries that you had passed on, that seemed too difficult to be worth their price. Bastard was about to show you up again when he unloaded these trophies.

You take a deep breath when you reach the end of the line. Your ass still tingles in the most tantalizing way, but you grit your teeth and tell yourself to ignore it. Maybe if you just stay down here, avoid your traveling companion until the ship reaches Nevarro, everything else will go just fine. No more bruises to your pride, no dirty secrets revealed. Yeah. That’s smart.

You turn and Mando is just there, boxing you in between the racks of carbonite carriers. How can a guy covered with so much metal be this stealthy? You try not to let shock show on your face; which only means you end up freezing like a prey animal.

“You liked that.” He makes the accusation solidly, with the weight of heavy interest bearing down behind it.

“What are you talking about.” You know, but you don’t want to answer for the heat that surely showed in your face when Mando spanked you. You try to wiggle past him, but he doesn’t acknowledge your intent, makes no move to make way for you.

“You know.” He’s just staring down at you.

You twitch in irritation and decide if he’s ignoring personal space, so can you. Your chest and thigh slide against solid armor as you force your body through the gap between him and the carbonite. “Get out of my way.”

His helmet is the only thing that moves, tracking your labored progression. “Make me.” He echoes your earlier challenge with an amused little tone.

“Fine.” You use your entire body weight to slam him into the rack on the other side. But he recovers too quickly; when you try to step away, into the center of the ship’s hold, he gets an arm around your chest.

As if your adrenaline wasn’t spiking already; now your combat reflexes kick in and you pull him in tighter, squatting low and grabbing that arm for leverage. With a quick burst of effort from your legs, you flip him over your shoulder.

You follow him down, taking advantage of the way a fall inside all that metal has to stun him, and climb on top of his body. “Fifty-five percent.” You also attempt to change the subject.

He reaches up and it’s a struggle to control his arms. He’s kriffing strong, and you’ve already taken off your combat equipment with the hidden tricks you usually use to deal with opponents that are bigger than you. He twists underneath you, in some way that you don’t expect, and with a rough shove and a brief crushing sensation along one leg you find yourself flat on the deck beneath him. “Are you really going to pretend you don’t like this?” his modulator purrs down at you.

Subject not changed. Every one of your nerve endings is in high gear now, and there’s a powerful urge inside you that wants to mewl and spread your legs apart for him right here, like a bitch in heat acknowledging the alpha male. You push the image back with a growl between your teeth, and use your thighs only to try and throw him off you.

Mando responds to your offensive by smothering you back down with his hips. Something solid crushes into the apex of your thighs, and you remember his armor does not have a codpiece.

A feral little moan escapes past your lips. Mando stops, lifting up just a little off your body and cocking his helmet to the side where it hovers only a hand’s breadth above your face. “What was that?” he asks, voice pleased.

And just like that, the whole game has changed. You were so worried he was trying to embarrass you, get one over on you. But if he likes it like this too… You reach your hand down boldly and throw his question back at him. “What’s this?” you ask as your palm makes contact with a delightfully solid bulge straining against the thick fabric of his pants.

A deep rumble purrs out of his modulator. “If you can manage to behave, maybe you’ll find out.”

How does he know exactly what to say to make you squirm? Your body floods with heat as you inwardly flail around to find a non-submissive answer. “And what happens if I don’t behave?”

“Then, maybe things get really interesting.”

Oh. Fuck. Now there’s an option. Maybe you don’t even have to submit to get the kind of tumble you want from him. You bare your teeth in a ferocious, challenging grin, and take advantage of the way he’s pulled his weight back to twist out from under him, knocking his helmet one more time with your elbow as you go.

You scramble across the deck out from under him, but a heavy hand catches your belt before you can get very far. You kick but Mando’s already inside your reach; your heel glances off his armor without even slowing him down.

He tugs on your belt, harshly, and climbs over the backs of your legs to force you down. “Where do you you think you’re going?” His voice is tight with the effort of getting himself positioned on top of you, squishing your belly into the deck.

“Mmf” is the sound you make in response, because now he’s pressing a forearm into your back and putting most of his weight on it.

“Hold still.” You give him a little token resistance, but mostly you let him get settled how he wants, holding you down to the floor evenly with the left side of his body. Leaving his right hand free. “So. What happens when you don’t behave.”

He spanks you, solid and centered and sharp.

You expected it just enough to hold your breath, and make sure you don’t cry out. You may be face-down on the floor under the Mandalorian, but you still have your pride. The first smack is followed by two more, and he grunts when you still don’t make a noise.

Heavy fingers smooth over the sting in your flesh. His hand feels amazing as it covers the swell of your ass, a slow, deliberate drag that feels warmer than it ought to and much more soothing than you expected.

“What’s it going to be, Y/N?” he asks. When you don’t answer fast enough for him, he swats at your other cheek, lazy and powerful.

Maybe he got a little noise out of you with that last one; it’s just too hard to stay quiet and not flinch both at the same time under the strength of that arm.

His helmet comes closer down to your face. “It’s okay to let go.” He speaks with such confidence, such seductive calm. “I can tell you want to submit. You don’t have to keep fighting it.” He shifts on top of you. “Though I do like it when you struggle.”

Your body rolls enticingly underneath him, without your brain’s permission. “Don’t you dare tell anyone you got me like this.”

“Of course not.” His answer is immediate. You remember how he’s always been an honorable man, that part of his reputation impeccable. Perhaps you really can trust him with this side of you. He sticks to the Code, he honors his promises, and lives by the Way of the Mandalore.

That last one begs a certain question, of course. “I wasn’t sure that Mandalorians could even have sex.”

A throaty noise makes the modulator crackle. “We have our ways.” A pause. “Is that what you want?”

You lift your head a little higher. He doesn’t give you much freedom, but he shifts just enough to help you feel comfortable breathing again. “If that’s what you’re offering, yeah, I wouldn’t be opposed to things ending up there.”

His hand gropes over your ass, fingers diving to tease more sensitive flesh between your legs. “After we… resolve a few things.” He grips tightly, almost cruelly. You agree in a sound that comes out much more high-pitched than you intended as he palms your ass and kneads it boldly. “Like whether you’re ready to start behaving like a good girl now.”

You still can’t bring yourself to just say yes, as hot as his words are making you. But you curl into his hand, just a little. To encourage him.

He growls something in a language you don’t know. It sounds like a curse and his weight is pressed down on you again as he scrambles with your belt, loosening your pants just enough to shove everything off the curve of your hips, baring you to mid-thigh in the ship’s cool air. When he spanks you now it’s sharper, the sting lighting up your tender flesh under every open-palmed strike that just keeps coming and coming. “Rubbing your ass on me does not count as an answer.” Smack. “I want to hear you say it.” Smack. “That you submit.” Smack. “That your ass is mine tonight.” A few involuntary cries squeeze out of your throat before he relents and rubs you again, the leather of his glove singing over your overstimulated skin.

You slow your panting breaths before you speak up, endeavoring to match his even tone. “Maybe I’ll play along for a little while.” You twist further, until you can stare up into his silver mask. “What do you want me to do?”

He pulls back, sitting up on his hip. From the angle of his helmet you’d guess that your answer does not really count as the submission he was looking for. Nor did you mean it to be. Someone’s gonna top you, they’ve got to earn it. Even if they are already, physically, on top of you. His moment of thought ends. “Take off your clothes.”

His hand squeezes at your ass one more time as you shift, like he’s loathe to let go while you comply with his command. You make as quick of work with your boots as you can, then push your bottoms off after them. Mando’s sitting beside you, leaning up against a large cargo crate, helmet fixed on your slowly-revealed body.

You’re so self-conscious that your skin feels like it could be glowing, as you bare it for him inch by inch. There’s nothing to read in that cold helmet, but its angle never wavers, riveted on you.

Once you’ve gotten yourself completely naked, he beckons you to come to him with two curling fingers. It’s amazingly erotic to move toward him with nothing on, while every inch of the Mandalorian warrior is still covered in battle-scarred plates.

He reaches out, palm up for your hand. You place your hand in his and he draws you in, until you’re kneeling right beside him. His fingers trail up your arms, over your shoulders, coaxing you closer. His touch is lighter than you expected. But you can hear him breathing through the mask. He’s struggling to stay this calm. To savor this.

His helmet tips down as his fingers knead harder; he watches himself press and squeeze the flesh of your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. The modulator translates another buzzing hum. Does it fascinate him, to see so much bare and vulnerable skin, when he can show none?

You feel your nipples tighten, a silent craving for contact. This feels good, but you want so much more. You look right into his eye slit. “I won’t break,” you say, twisting yourself tighter into the grip of his hands.

The Mandalorian growls and rises up to his knees, helmet filling your vision as he presses himself close and rakes his fingers down your back. He’s looking down at your panting chest and squeezing your ribs, watching the way your pristine tits are so close to brushing against his dirty metal chestplate. He clutches you in, pressing your belly against his, betraying a desire for closeness that he just can’t achieve.

Your hands come up to his shoulders, burrowing through the cowl wrapped around his collar, trying to make contact. Your fingers curl up the column of his neck, where the thinner fabric lets you feel a hint of his body heat. He stiffens when you come close to the bottom of his helmet.

“Leave it,” he snarls, just as you’re telling him “Don’t worry, I wasn’t—"

He scoops you up tightly and sets you on top of the cargo crate he had been leaning against. Your legs open and wrap around him of their own volition as he presses between them. You cross your ankles underneath his cloak, locking his body in close. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, just inside the pauldrons, but don’t attempt to slide under anything again.

Leather-clad fingers rake up your ribs, dragging up the sides of your body before they close over your breasts. Finally. You arc into him and let your eyes close, feeling the texture of his gloves across sensitive skin, the hungry twisting and tugging against your nipples.

“Open your eyes,” he demands, voice breathy with as much arousal as you’re feeling. “I want you to look at me, keep looking at me, let me see…”

He trails off, but you can guess what he means. Let him see what it feels like to be touched. You tip your chin down and lock your eyes on that T-shaped window in his helmet. His fingers pinch around both your nipples at once and your jaw drops. He tickles around the edges, then grabs up the full swell of your tits and squeezes. Your eyes try to flutter shut; it’s already hard to remember his instruction.

He settles into an entirely delicious rhythm, kneading your peaks, watching every crease of your brow, reading every gasp and twitch of your lip so that he can tweak at your nipples just right, until the pleasure is almost unbearable. You don’t even realize your eyes have fallen closed until his hand disappears from one of your tits and slaps at your cheek.

It’s not hard, just a slight sting, the corrective swat of a playful alpha. “Eyes,” he reminds you, then goes right back to his blissful torture.

Your core is warming almost unbearably. Every tug at your nipples is drawing a tingling line of pleasure right down between your thighs, taking the heat that had already awoken there during your spanking and fanning the flames, until the need for more is almost unbearable. “Mando,” you moan, tilting your hips forward on the crate, “please…”

A pleased little sound comes out of the modulator. “Please what?”

“Urmmm,” you moan at him, twisting your body, trying to scoot your hips a little closer to him. “I need more.”

He responds by pinching your nipples harder, just enough pain to make you gasp and curl. You pout up toward his helmet. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But you like it.” He does it again, and this time you cry out. A stabbing ache deep between your legs reminds you you’re still not getting what you want.

Fingers tickle down your belly, brushing across your inner thighs. Then they slide around behind and pinch you hard on the ass. You wail in frustration.

Mando tips his helmet closer to your face. “Tell me again how I don’t know how to be playful.”

“Fuck!” you cry through gritted teeth.

“Fuck what?”

Your hands scramble down his armored chest, aiming for his belt to just reach down and show him what you want.

“Uh uh.” He grabs your wrists before you can do more than pop the buckle on his utility belt. “Hands stay on my shoulders.”

You immediately comply, too far gone now to be contradictory. “Fuck me, Mando.”

“Oh yeah?” He straightens up a little, his posture cocky as he stands there wrapped in your naked legs. “You ready to say it?”

“I’m yours.” You don’t even hesitate. “Do whatever you want with me.”

He takes his belt the rest of the way off with one hand, lets it drop to the floor. The other hand is busy squeezing your ass, then traveling around your hip. He pushes your legs open a little wider, then his thumbs come running down your inner thighs, pulling at your labia, spreading you even more. You lean back, curling your hips up, to give him a better view.

His breath hisses out from under the helmet. “You want me to fuck this little pussy?”

“Yes,” you moan, as his thumbs stroke up and down, just around its edges.

He pulls you open wider. “You ready to be a good girl, and do exactly as I say?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Exactly,” he repeats, and a ghost of a chill runs down your spine in the midst of all this heat. He takes one of your hands from his shoulder, and turns it palm up near your mouth. “Spit.”

The thumb of his other hand is still sliding up and down next to your opening, not touching your wetness. You appreciate that he’s not about to let his dirty gloves make things unsanitary. You gather up saliva to the front of your mouth and carefully coat your first two fingers.

Mando keeps his grip on your wrist, and pushes your hand down to your entrance as soon as he’s done watching your lips and tongue work over your own fingers.

You smooth the spit over your slit, Mando’s grip still guiding you, making sure you do a thorough job lubricating yourself. His other thumb creeps down over your clit, rocking across it carefully, steadily, his helmet angling back up to watch your face.

It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open against the pleasure of that pressure, finally right where you need it. But you remember his rule. You keep your gaze locked on the beskar as your own fingers find a rhythm underneath his, the gloved hand locked around your wrist urging you to press into yourself deeper, faster, in coordination with his rolling thumb. You find yourself clutching at the back of his neck just to keep your balance as the needy pleasure explodes. “That’s it,” his voice soothes over the modulator, “get yourself ready for me.”

You’re doing more than getting ready. Even just this much touch from him is sending you straight toward a spiraling orgasm, now that all the wild pleasure built up by every slap and struggle and pinch finally has somewhere to go.

He sees it coming, the way your eyelids go tight at the effort to keep them open and looking at him. “Don’t,” he warns. “Save it.”

He stops moving his thumb, though he doesn’t release its pressure. He swirls your hand inside of yourself one last time before drawing it out, then setting it back onto his shoulder in line with the other one.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his thumb while Mando starts loosening his own clothing. You want to call him cruel when he removes that hand too, bringing it up to caress your neck, but you have no ability to talk back anymore. Especially when his fingers curl up underneath your jaw. “Now. The most important thing.” You can feel him pulling himself out of his pants, though he’s brought his body in closer and you can’t see that far with your head tilted up in his hand like this. “Don’t look down.” His fingers squeeze tighter around your jaw, the heel of his hand pressing into the top of your throat. “If you look, I’ll have to kill you.”

He could be exaggerating, just to make this hotter for you, more intense, but you remember what he said to some over-curious bitch at Karga’s tavern once. No living thing has seen me without my helmet. Apparently The Way is preserved if violators quickly become only the formerly living.

“Yes,” you say quickly, voicebox buzzing against his wrist, words mumbling together against the unrelenting pressure in his fingers, “I understand.”

A few more quick movements down where you can’t see, and then you feel something warm and thick pressing up against your core. You both moan together as he slides his head up and down your slick folds, only fumbling a little before he finds his aim. Fuck. This is what you’ve been craving. You brace yourself against the cargo crate as best you can, squeezing your legs around him to invite him in.

You think you're ready to take him, but you're not. He crushes in bigger and wider than you’re used to, and you wail up into that impassive beskar face and try in vain to remember how to relax and take a dick like this one.

His breath is catching in little straining grunts; apparently this is pretty overwhelming for him, too. When he’s halfway in he removes his guiding hand from his own shaft and returns his thumb to your clit; that helps. The more familiar pleasure of his pressure helps melt your walls into the stretch of him. “You’re so. Fucking. Tight.” His hand never wavers on your jaw as he starts to pump, in and out, getting a little bit deeper into you with every thrust, groaning a little louder with every inch he gains.

Fuck. This position has every muscle in your body straining, which is probably why it’s so hard for him to fit in, but you don’t even care because the intensity of it is everything that you’ve been craving. “Fuck—” he adjusts his grip just a fraction, so you can talk a little easier, “fuck me just how you want, Mando, I can take it.”

He groans and takes his thumb off your clit, bringing that big hand around to grab onto your hip and brace you for a wilder pace. You only bemoan the loss of his thumb for a second, because the new angle slides his cock against a wicked spot deeper inside you.

“Ahh!” you wail, and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, needing him to hold you up as he fucks up into you at an angle that destroys the precarious balance you had been maintaining on the edge of this cargo crate. His controlling grip on your neck is choking you just a little, a sensation so erotic that you can feel your impending orgasm sizzle and tighten all around his cock the more you focus on it. “Mando, I—Can I?” you pant, your face so close that your breath is fogging up the beskar.

“Yes, fucking come for me,” he orders, then presses into you harder, his grip momentarily cutting off your airway completely. A second later your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, spasming every muscle in your core, your thighs, in your silent, breathless chest, and Mando just keeps fucking you through it all.

As soon as the heel of his hand slides off your throat you’re screaming through your teeth, the sound bouncing along with his thrusts. His pace is relentless until your orgasm finally peaks, and the stiffness of your body starts to melt against him. You realize that you’ve wrapped your arms fully around his helmet, getting as close as his controlling grip on your jaw would allow.

His pace slows, but it does not stop. From the aching deep inside your belly, you know that he’s still fully hard, just giving you a brief moment to recover yourself.

You sigh into the side of his head, a long, lovely sound. Your body shivers with aftershocks around his solid shaft, keeping your pleasure brimming, not letting it fade. That hand controlling your jaw pushes you back, gently, until he can see your face again.

His grip spasms on your ass. He must like what he sees. “Close your eyes.” You do, and he starts to pull away. “Keep them closed. I’m turning you over.”

You unlock your ankles from behind his back as he draws his length out of your body, both of you gasping and shuddering as he withdraws. Your legs come down to the ground rather stiffly, and you’re glad of the way he manhandles you along, until you’re bending over the crate with your thighs pressed into its edge. You’re not sure your legs would have held you up without his help.

Mando wastes no time lining his cock back up again. You hold onto the edges of the cargo crate as he presses in eagerly. A gasp rips from your throat as your head lifts up in an involuntary bend of your back; this position lets him drive in deeper, forcing you to adjust to his size all over again.

A split second after your head comes up, Mando’s fingers squeeze through your hair at the base of your skull, using that grip to hold you steady and facing forward. You really weren’t trying to turn and look, but you suppose he can’t risk it. He keeps control of your head, pulling your hair a little in time to his thrusts, as he groans out a deep, pleasured sound. You give voice to how you’re feeling, too, letting little sobbing moans spill out in time to his insistent thrusts. He can’t see your face anymore, and you barely have the leverage to move your hips against him, so this is the only way to keep the connection.

“Oh, keep making those sounds,” Mando pants, then the modulator keeps crackling with more of his soft grunts as he plumbs your depths. “You take me so good.” When he flattens his hips against your ass it definitely hurts; he’s reached the end of you, and is trying to stretch past it, deep inside. But even that pain is erotic; you wail and submit under his praise and his smothering need.

His grunts and his thrusts both start coming faster, and just as you fear that you’re hitting your limit, that you can’t take any more, some new dimension of release and submission open up inside you, and all that suffering transforms into a pleasure so fierce that your walls are clenching and your mind is wiped by an orgasm that turns the rest of your body to jelly.

When your mind clears you find your cheek flush to the surface of the cargo crate. Mando’s hand is pressing it there, with his fingers wrapped across your eyes, and he’s groaning through his teeth as he smashes himself as deep into your body as he can get. He shudders and bucks, roaring through his orgasm, the modulator translating the sound with an almost musical edge.

When he’s done he sags partially on top of you, his belly resting on your hips while his arms keep his chestplate from digging into your back. His cock is keeping you plugged, a thick presence that makes you feel stretched even when it’s going soft. One of his hands is still resting over your eyes, but all the tension has gone out of it. You wonder if he’d feel the flicker of your eyelashes against his glove if your lids accidentally parted. You keep them closed.

He hums, fingertips running softly up your back. You wonder if he’s looking down, admiring your bare skin once again. Your entire body is thrumming, the satisfaction spreading to every muscle fiber. You know things will feel awkward soon, but for now you really don’t want to move.

Eventually Mando pulls himself gently out of you. A spurt of warm liquid follows, running thickly down your leg. Fuck, how backed up was he?

“Don’t move,” he warns, lifting his body up off of yours.

You give him a contented little murmur and stay perfectly relaxed. “Eyes still shut,” you reassure him. You’re not even annoyed at the lack of trust these constant reminders might convey. This is something he has to control strictly. Certainly it’s a great privilege that he even took the risk with you. You listen to his footsteps retreat and return, as you lay draped over the cargo crate and enjoy the bliss that is only just beginning to fade.

“You can open them now,” he says softly once he’s standing over you again. One hand slides over your ass, pausing at a spot that feels surprisingly sensitive. “I’ve given you a welt or two here.”

“Souvenir,” you grin up at him, twisting your spine while keeping your hips relaxed under his hand. “Thanks.”

Mando nods his helmet back at you. He’s got a cloth in his other hand, dampened from the fresher, and he wipes up the mess he’s left between your legs with careful, steady dabs. “I should be the one thanking you,” he says softly, maybe even a little awkwardly. “That was…”

“Overdue?” you quip, as he’s wiping all the way down to your ankle to clean up the enormous load he had for you.

“Maybe just a little.” He steps away to trade the towel for a thin, precisely-folded blanket, which he shakes out and spreads over you. You stand up in his arms as he does, guiding him to wrap it around your shoulders. You hold it tight and lean in toward him for a snug embrace. The blanket makes pressing your bare body against his armored plating much more comfortable. “Come here,” he mutters, and draws you to sit on the floor with him, leaning up against the cargo crate and each other. Even the afterglow of wild sex with the Mandalorian doesn’t make his spare ship any less uncomfortable, but you focus on the way his arm holds you tucked in tight against his body, the way you can feel him breathing against your ribs.

“That was good,” you breathe.

“Yeah.”

You lean your head tentatively against his shoulder, wondering how much intimacy he’s going to allow now. His arm shifts, helping you get more comfortable, and his thumb is dragging back and forth, idly, along the top of your thigh.

There’s one question you have to ask.

“Would you really have had to kill me, if I looked?”

He holds his breath for a moment, then lets it blow out with a soft glottal sound. “Most Mandalorians would. But honestly? To me, that wouldn’t have made a difference. Even if you didn’t live to tell the tale, my honor would still be smirched. I’d know I’d failed a central tenet, and from every day after I’d be living a lie.”

Your brow creases, and you turn to look up at him even though you can’t read his face. That was kriffing serious. “So it’s not just about the helmet.”

His beskar mask nods. “Not the way I was raised.”

You turn your gaze away, idly looking across the cargo bay. “Wow.” You’d never seen him not covered head to toe, and you never would.

“But I think…” he trails off as his hands burrow under your blanket, coming around to meet each other in front of your belly and fumbling with something. “I think this is acceptable.” His hand finds one of yours, and air rushes into your chest in a silent, measured gasp as you realize the fingers winding between yours are his, warm skin, completely bared to the wrist.

You sit together in silence for a long time, feeling the twin pulses of living palms pressed together, the small twitches of muscle and the sparkle of nerve endings when a finger softly strokes across the back of a hand. The more you imagine how much this must mean to him, the more it means to you, until your head is spinning and you can barely handle the intimacy of the kind of touch you’ve always taken simply for granted.

You’re afraid to ask what this means. This whole encounter was so unplanned; you don’t even know what you want from the Mandalorian, much less what he wants from you. Is he doing this just because of the afterglow rush of soft hormones, or does he think you and he could be something more?

And when you feel awkward, you talk. People skills, remember? You squeeze his hand and restart an old conversation. “Told you we make a good team.”

He grunts.

Maybe you should just shut up and enjoy the cuddle. But his non-answer does not help your racing mind to still. The urge to tease him starts taking over again. “You know, we’re still not done negotiating that split.”

Mando groans softly. “The only split I want to think about is how far I can split open your legs.”

A new thrill runs up your spine, but you stay on track with only a small giggle escaping your throat. “How about we round it back up to sixty percent for me, and as soon as that big dick can get hard again, I’ll throw on a blindfold and give you the best head you ever had in your life.”

Mando’s fingers card through yours, and his other hand comes up to play with your hair. “Tempting.” There’s a rumble deep in his throat that makes your aching cunt tighten. “But let’s just call it 50-50, and we can fuck all the way to Nevarro.”

Part Two here

My Mando Smut Masterlist

Taglist: @mabelleen @lokiaddicted @aethersghoulette @nolivingthingdroid @pinkmoontribe-blog @baar-ur @otherthingsinhead @biolo-tea @greendragonzz @aesikupills @of-narwhals-and-ink @doubtedbus409 @kittyatemytaco @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @space-princesssss @okilover02 @debonaire-princess @myfruitgummies @pinstripeninja13 @taman-a @mandowhoreian @cptnbvcks @funmadnessandbadassvikings @soapjay @otherthingsinhead @onebatch--twobatch @lilwickedred @mabelleen @stardancerluv @naiomiwinchester @equalstrashflavoredtrash @laketaj24 @themaskismyface @pascallorian @shadowfoxey @thatkidofwarandpeace @pokeasleepingsmaug @anniemar

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #mandalorian smut #the split fic #Mando smut

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