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the-little-ewok · 9 months

Text

Only yours

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) X F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 3700 (ish)

Warnings : Explicit / PIV (unprotected sex) / praise kink / mild possessiveness / mentions of oral sex (m&f recieving) / dirty talk / thigh riding / brief fingering / mild Dom Din/ fluffyness / pinning / finger biting (idk is that a warning?) / The helmet comes off / consent is sexy/ aftercare

Prompts / Summary : I love it when you talk dirty, Open your mouth, I'd hold onto something if I were you / A second of playfulness leads to a night of passion with the Mandalorian

A/N: Please go easy on me this is the first time I'm writing smut for Din… sorry it got a bit well … you've seen the warnings….

Also I slightly changed one of the prompts because it sounded better. Just changed a word that's all :)

Dedicating this to my absolute angel of a beta @beldroxramscal ! Thank you for putting up with me!

If you enjoy this fic please reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs keep writers writing :)

—--

Honestly, what had you been thinking? Time, place, person, all wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

All the Mandalorian had tried to do was shush your chattering, pressing his finger against your lips as he watched the bounty in the distance. And you, in all your wisdom, had decided to open your mouth and playfully bite down on a gloved finger.

His head had snapped around so quickly you're surprised he didn't injure himself. And you, you still had grinned at him, his finger trapped in your teeth, as your reflection in his helmet grinned back. What exactly was the reaction you were hoping for? Certainly not the one you got.

The long moment of silence that followed had made your grin falter, and you opened your mouth to release his finger. The Mandalorian had stepped away from you without a sound, going back to hunting his bounty in silence.

And he hadn't said a word to you since. He'd been silent, stoic, and well, stampy.

Even now you can hear his pacing footfalls ringing out against the metal hull of the ship. Each one seemed to ring out how stupid you were. The Mandalorian. Of all people to do that to, you just had to pick him.

Clunk. Stupid. Clunk. Stupid.

You had tried to go to him and apologise, but he was clearly avoiding you, and each time you tried to speak with him, he made excuses to busy himself somewhere away from you.

After everything, after working your way up to an easy friendship, after finally getting him to relax a little, you had to go and throw it all away because you couldn't help your childish behaviour; because you couldn't stop thinking about him in ways you really shouldn't.

You toss, kicking the covers off for the thousandth time since you went to bed, turning the pillow, punching it for good measure and trying to settle down to sleep.

But sleep isn't coming. And all you can hear is the clunk, clunk, clunk, of the pacing Mandalorian.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

It's all you can hear and Maker, it's irritating. Can't he go and be mad away from your door, instead of reminding you with every step of your colossal fuck up.

With a growl of annoyance, you roll out of bed and slam your hand on the control panel to open the door, letting out a yelp of surprise when you're met with your shimmering reflection in the Mandalorian’s helmet.

You try to recover quickly, fixing him with a stern frown, trying not to glance down to fully take in the fact he's dressed only in his undershirt and pants.

"I-I can't sleep with you pacing up and down!"

"I didn't realise I was keeping you awake. I apologise." It's the most words the Mandalorian has spoken to you since you arrived back at the ship, and it softens your annoyance just a little. After all, this was your fault, and there was no point taking it out on him.

"It's okay. Did you need something?"

"No. I was just… walking past." Both the Mandalorians' hesitation, and the fact your room is the last on the ship with nowhere else to go, tell you that is a bare-faced lie.

You twist your hands nervously in front of you, trying to figure out what he could need from you in the middle of the night, and come up with only one thing.

"Did you want to talk about what happened earlier? Because I'm really so-"

"Open your mouth."

"rry-what?" You frown, watching as he slides off one glove, then the other, slowly.

"Open. Your. Mouth," he states again, his modulated voice dark. It's not a question, it's a command. It's how he speaks to his bounties. It should scare you, but it doesn't, he doesn't.

But even so, your breath catches, your heart hammers against your chest, and you feel a prickling heat creeping up the back of your neck. From desire or concern, you aren't sure.

The silence stretches out for a long moment, neither of you moving, before swallowing hard, you take a breath and open your mouth.

"Good girl."

Kriff. How hard your pussy clenches is almost painful.

Closing the distance between you the Mandalorian raises his hand and slips two thick fingers between your parted lips.

You don't wait for further instructions before you swirl your tongue around his digits, sucking hard before biting down softly, listening to the hitch in the Mandalorian’s breathing.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock."

The surprise at his words makes your eyes widen at first, but then a flood of heat follows, the mental image of you on your knees for him making you moan around his fingers.

"You like that Cyar'ika? You like thinking about my cock down your throat?"

His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, and he waits. He's actually waiting for you to answer.

You stare at your reflection for a moment before your eyes slide away, looking off across the ship, cheeks heating in embarrassment.

"I just like it when you talk dirty," you admit quietly, all too aware that out of the corner of your vision, you can see your saliva glistening on his fingers. Not that you minded the thought of taking him in your mouth either. But there was something deliciously naughty about the Mandalorian speaking filthy words.

"There's no going back if we do this." The Mandalorian states suddenly, changing topics faster than he shoots. "I won't let you go if this happens."

It's such a strange contrast from the tone he used just moments ago it throws you for a loop. Your brain scrambles to catch up with not only the change in pace, but his words.

At your lack of response the Mandalorian takes a deep modulated breath, his shoulders slump and he turns on his heel to walk away from you.

Panic scrambles up through your chest, making it tighten uncomfortably.

"Wait, Mando, wait," you beg, reaching out to catch his arm. Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, keeping him in place but he doesn't turn back to you.

"I don't want to go back," you admit, desperate for him to be close to you again. "I don't want there to be a going back."

The way he slowly turns to face you once more feels dangerous, intimidating.

"There's no going back for me now," you whisper as he steps close to you, crowding you back against the doorframe.

"No," he agrees, raising an arm above your head to lean over you, trapping you in place, as the other reaches up to cup your cheek, "there was never any going back."

Your dazed reflection blinks at you in silver and black as his thumb traces your lower lip. You have so many questions, but none of them seem right to ask now. You hope there will be time for them later, that what he says is true, and there is no going back, that there is only forward now.

"Close your eyes," the Mandalorian commands, "and keep them closed."

You do as he tells you without question, shutting your eyes tightly, accepting the inky black and burst of colour behind your eyelids.

At first, his thumb continues to trace your lips, pressing between them briefly to drag along your tongue before his touch disappears.

There's a hiss, a clunk, then absolute silence. All you are left with is the sound of your own heavy breathing.

As the silence stretches out you start to worry that perhaps this is some revenge, some power play to teach you to listen to instructions, to teach you a lesson for your earlier playfulness. Your eyes flicker, almost opening for a moment before -

"Don't."

You squeeze them shut once more, your breath catching in your throat, forgetting how to breathe as the unmodulated, crisp, deep voice warns you.

"Don't open your eyes." He reminds you again. "And breathe."

You're suddenly all too aware of the burning in your lungs from the lack of oxygen. You take an embarrassingly gasped breath, sucking in all the air you can, desperately, as though you've been suffocating for hours.

"Slower," he instructs. You slow your breathing to a more normal pace, or as normal as you can manage given the sudden change in situation.

You can feel the heat from his body as he steps closer to you, forcing you to try and concentrate to keep your breathing steady. For all the times you've imagined this, him, you had not expected him to have quite the powerful effect on you that he does.

He cups your cheek again, his palm warm against your skin. His thumb traces your bottom lip slowly, and you feel him leaning into you, his breath fanning out across your lips.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.

You nod, not trusting your voice to waiver with thick desire.

He obliges without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours, gentler than you were expecting, as though testing the waters, expecting you to suddenly pull away and put an end to this.

Instead, you press yourself up against him, moulding your body to his, opening your mouth to press your tongue to the seam of his lips.

It's clear at that moment, he has been holding back, perhaps giving you the space to adjust in the turn of your relationship, but the moment your tongue presses against his lips, he snaps.

His arm slips around your waist, holding you tight against his chest as his tongue presses against yours, his kiss insistent and demanding.

Your hands tangle in his hair, exploring previously uncharted territory. As you tug the soft strands lightly the Mandalorian groans into your mouth, pulling back to bite sharply at your lip.

"I should have thrown you to the ground and let the bounty go," he growls passionately, pressing you hard against the doorframe, slotting his thigh between your legs, drawing a gasp from you as he presses it up against your core. "Is that what you wanted? Is that what you were trying to do? You wanted me to fuck you then and there?"

It wasn't, not entirely. Well, maybe it might slightly have crossed your thoughts that in the heat of the moment, he might have done something. You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that exact scenario had passed your thoughts more than once. So, maybe. Maybe you had wanted that.

"I wouldn't have minded if you had," you admit.

The Mandalorian hums, and without being able to see his face, it's impossible to tell if your answer gives him satisfaction or not. Either way, it doesn't seem to matter as his mouth crashes back into yours.

As his tongue dips once more between your lips and you can't help but cant your hips against his thigh, grinding down as his tongue licks into your mouth. It's like your body has a damn mind of its own and is hell-bent on finally getting the high you need from him.

You groan into his mouth, the friction against your aching core just feeling too damn good. The Mandalorian presses his thigh tighter against you as he pulls away, growling lowly against your lips.

"That's it, take what you need."

You don't hesitate. You grind yourself harder against him, aware of the wetness soaking your sleep shorts, and the stain you must be leaving on his pants. Your breath comes out in short gasps as you feel your body tighten, the coil of pleasure inside you winding tighter and tighter.

"Can you cum like this pretty girl?"

Could you? You're certainly pretty close, the material of your shorts dragging up against your clit in just the right way. His next words almost send you hurtling over the edge.

"Then after I'll make you cum on my cock?"

You whine. Any other time you would have been embarrassed by the noise that escapes, but there's no room for that here. There is only you and the Mandalorian, who is making your body sing in ways nobody else has.

"Let go. Let me see you cum for me." It sounds almost like a beg, but you know it isn't, it's a command. You have to cum for him.

Your body reacts before your brain has caught up. You tremble, crying out as the wave of pleasure takes over, the coil snapping, throwing you high in your climax as you ride it out against his leg, shameless in your pleasure.

You barely have time to come down before the Mandalorian removes his leg, and suddenly pulls away from you.

"Bed," he orders roughly.

For a split second, you go to open your eyes, acting on pure instinct to look where you are going, before he stops you a second time. "I'll guide you."

He takes your waist, and slowly walks you backwards, step by step. You have no choice but to trust him and follow, your legs still trembling from your orgasm.

As he pushes you down, you sit tentatively, reaching out your hands to feel for the edges of the bed, slowly backing up onto it. You feel the thin mattress sink with the Mandalorian’s weight as he joins you.

He takes your chin in his fingers and turns your face towards him before he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"Do you want this?" He asks softly, keeping your face turned to him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Maker, you absolutely were not going to survive the night if he keeps asking these types of questions. Your pussy clenches in anticipation.

"Yes." You manage to pant out.

He wastes no time in undressing you, practically tearing your shirt over your head before guiding you to lie down. You move your hands to remove your shorts but he stops you, pushing them down onto the mattress and hooking his fingers into the elastic, sliding your shorts down slowly, exposing you fully to his gaze. There's a hitch in his breathing and wish you were able to see him, take in his expression, watch him lick his lips as he surveys you.

Instead, you have to make do with your imagination.

You jump involuntarily as his hands suddenly grip your thighs, sliding his palms up your skin until his fingers rest just below your throbbing core, spreading your legs wide.

"You are soaked for me, pretty thing."

There're no words coming that you can answer him with, just the gasped breaths and the lift of your hips to encourage him to touch you.

He tuts at your actions with a sigh.

"Next time, we will work on you using your words to ask for what you want."

Next time? There was already going to be a next time? You almost forget to breathe again, but at that exact moment, the Mandalorian runs two calloused fingers through your wet heat, making you suddenly suck in a gasp of air, your hips arching towards his touch, even though you are still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.

He slips a thick finger into your wet heat, drawing a soft mewl of pleasure from your throat. The Mandalorian hums in appreciation of the noise, pressing a second finger to join the first, twisting and curling them as he stretches you open, filling you better than your own hands can.

"So fucking pretty," he praises as he thrusts his fingers, your soaked pussy making an embarrassingly lewd sound.

Suddenly and without warning his fingers leave you, and for a moment there is silence before the Mandalorian lets out a broken groan.

"You taste divine."

Heat spreads across your cheeks, prickling at your skin when you realise he must have tasted you from his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, fisting the covers as your body shudders in desperation. You can't wait any longer. You've waited long enough to be here with him.

"Fuck me, Mando," you burst out, taking his words to heart, that you should ask for what you need.

The Mandalorian lets out a dark chuckle before you hear the whisper of fabric, the soft flump of clothes hitting the floor, and then his weight is over you, pressing you down into the mattress, his thick cock pressing up against your core.

"You can call me Din, when we are alone."

Din. The name rings in your ears. Din. You don't know what this means, that he's given you his name, but something aches in your chest at the trust. There really was no going back now.

"Please, Din. I need you. I want you."

He groans as his name passes your lips for the first time, his cock rutting up against your wet folds, soaking himself in your slick.

"Good girl, finally asking for what she wants."

Lining himself up at your entrance he presses into you slowly, inch by inch, allowing you to adjust as he stretches your walls. Every feeling is heightened without your vision — his weight over you, his arms caging you in, the fullness of his cock as he bottoms out, splitting you open, the wet squelch of your pussy, the way his whisper sounds like a yell as he leans down.

"I've thought about you like this so much. Filling you," he delivers a devastating thrust that tears a moan from your throat before you can stop it. "Made myself cum so many times thinking about how you'd taste. How good you would be, all pretty spread out for me." Another hard, slow thrust. "How you'd cum on my tongue over and over until you can't take anymore. And then I'd fuck you, slowly."

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, desperate for him to stop talking before you cum too quickly, or maybe to keep talking, you aren't sure. All you know is nothing could turn you on more than the thought of him, cock in fist, whining your name as he thought about eating your pussy.

"Please," you whine helplessly as he rolls his hips deep and slow, pressing up against that one spot that makes you see stars.

"This is mine now. You are mine now," he growls, continuing his leisurely pace.

"Yours. Only yours. Always yours," you agree with a helpless nod, arching your back, pressing yourself against him, taking everything he offers.

Except it isn't enough. The unhurried thrusts press against all the right spots, but it's only enough to leave you frustratingly close to oblivion, but never enough to throw you into the abyss.

"Din, I need…i-i…n-uhh," you cut off into a moan as he delivers another deep thrust.

"I know Cyar'ika," he groans, pausing deep inside you to capture your lips in a messy kiss that's all tongue and teeth. You're not sure if the entire lack of movement is somehow worse.

When the Mandalorian finally pulls away he growls in your ear, a noise that makes your pussy clench around his cock.

"I'd find something to hold onto if I was you."

He pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you, before he thrusts back in, setting a hard fast pace that has you cambering for purchase on the bed. Your fingers curl around the edge of the mattress, trying to hold yourself in place as each hard thrust pushes you further up the small cot.

It's too much. When you think you can't possibly get any fuller, he somehow finds a way to thrust deeper, making your eyes roll behind your closed eyelids.

The pleasure at the pace and depth is more than you've ever experienced. It verges somewhere between pain and rapture. It's consuming, drowning, it's everything you need.

You all but scream his name as you finally cum, your body taunt and trembling beneath him, aching fingers gripping the bed for life. Your blood pulses in your ears, white explodes behind your eyelids, it's impossible to get enough air into your lungs.

You might black out for a moment, because when you finally come back to yourself, limbs heavy and shaky, Din is whispering soft praises in your ear.

"So good for me. Taking me so well. Pretty little pussy so good," he slurs, pressing deeper into you as you bury your whines against his neck, trembling with overstimulation. His thrusts are sloppy and mistimed as he rambles in your ear, whispering filth and praises, before he suddenly pulls out of you, letting out a long groan of relief as he splatters your stomach with hot bursts of cum.

For a long moment afterwards, there is only the sound of heavy breathing between you, then his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

It's gentle and slow, it's more than just a kiss between lovers, it's a promise, but for what, you aren't quite sure yet.

"Stay here," he instructs gently. This time it actually sounds like a request.

The mattress moves and creaks as the Mandalorian gets up, leaving you alone, sweat drenched and covered in cum. It isn't exactly how you pictured your night ending, but you certainly aren't complaining.

Just as you are starting to get anxious that he's been gone so long, you hear soft footfalls and the bed sinks again.

"I'm going to clean you up," he informs you, before a warm wet towel swipes across your stomach, cleaning up the traces of his climax, before he moves down, to clean your slick from your thighs. You're thankful he doesn't make a meal of cleaning your sensitive cunt, clearly taking note of the way you hiss in overstimulation when he swipes the cloth over your folds.

When he's done he settles himself next to you in the small cot, pulling you to lay on your side, his arm thrown casually over your waist, keeping you close.

"So," you speak quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness that has settled around you, "you weren't mad about the whole finger bite?"

The Mandalorian chuckles, a genuine amused laugh, that makes your chest ache with affection. You want to make him laugh again. You want to make him laugh every day.

"No, Cyar'ika," he sighs, "I wasn't mad. Just frustrated."

"With me?"

"With myself," the Mandalorian answers quickly, his fingers softly tracing your skin. Since he doesn't elaborate, you decide not to ask anything further. Maybe one day you can both explain how this took so long, but this isn't the time.

"What does Cyar'ika mean?" You question, changing the subject, and if you were honest, using talking as an excuse to keep him in your bed a while longer.

"It's a term of affection. An approximation of darling I suppose. But I can call you something else if you prefer?"

"No," you shake your head passionately. "I like Cyar'ika."

"Good," he answers simply. "Now if you are done with your questions, open your eyes."

It takes a moment for his request to sink in and for the first time, you don't comply.

"B-but-"

"Open your eyes," he cuts in quietly, a hand wrapping around your thigh, pulling your legs open as he shifts between them once more, pressing you to lay back against the mattress. "I want to taste you, and this time, I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you scream."

Your heart jumps, your mouth is dry, your thighs tremble.

You open your eyes.

—-----------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please take the time to reblog and let me know your thoughts! I love hearing from readers more than anything!

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian fanfiction

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ipseitydelrey · 5 months

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if u ever get the motivation u should write an elle greenaway nsfw alphabet 👀👀👀

omg yesss, what better character to start out with than elle 🫶

nsfw alphabet ☆ elle greenaway

ship elle greenaway x afab!reader

warnings smutty smut smut, oral (giving and receiving), sex toys (dildos, strap-ons, vibrators), biting, mommy kink, masturbation, rough sex, slight exhibitionism, edging, quickies

a/n fun fact: in my textbook for my ethics in psych course, there are these small fictional case studies that you have to read and i kid you not, one of the names for an unethical therapist was "dr. romeo quickie." anyways, enjoy~

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

sometimes when she's feeling a little energetic after sex, she cleans you up with a warm washcloth. but most of the time, you just fall asleep in each other's arms while she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)

she loves her mouth. she quickly noticed that whenever she talks, your eyes tend to fall to her lips and usually she would just say "my eyes are up here, babe." she also loves how her mouth anywhere on your skin just makes you want to do anything for her.

as for you, elle loves your thighs. whenever you two are sitting beside each other, maybe at a restaurant or on the couch watching tv, she tends to gently squeeze your thigh and rub her thumb on your skin. when she goes down on you, she loves to kiss and bite the inside of your thighs.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

she wants to make you cum before she does so herself. her favourite place to cum on is your face, especially when she sits on it and has you eat her out.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

she knows how to lap dance...and she's damn good at it.

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

oh no doubt about it. with both men and women too! in fact, even if you're also quite experienced, she definitely has a thing or two about sex to teach you.

F = favourite position (this goes without saying)

she loves sitting on your face. although of course, she also likes to seat you on her thigh and have you pleasure yourself by grinding against her.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

she's definitely more serious; her focus is all on you and how to make you feel good. rarely she would make jokes, but during aftercare, she's definitely cracking small sarcastic jokes.

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

she does shave, but she has a small patch of hair that she keeps well-trimmed.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

no rose petals, candles, etcetera, but she is tender and loving, even when she's rough. she's huge on consent, so she always makes sure you're okay with something and praises you when you say yes/no.

J= jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when she's away from you (or vice versa), she touches herself once or twice before she (or you) comes back. although sometimes she would send you videos of her masturbating. of course, if you send her nudes, she can't help it.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

she's more of a top, but would be willing to bottom. she also loves marking you with hickies, bites, and more. she likes putting them in places only she can see and kissing them, sometimes even biting the marks to make you writhe.

L = location (favourite places to have sex)

cars. she loves how cramped they can be because it makes you two closer together. it can also get quite heated (literally) and sweaty, and she loves how you can potentially be caught.

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

whenever you wear her clothes, especially dresses, she's turned on. she loves seeing you in her clothes (and she loves it even more when she takes them off of you). oh, and when you stand up to a bigot? she praises you for your confidence and absolutely rewards you for how strong you are.

N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

elle would never hit or hurt you at all. she also would never do edgeplay (i.e. guns and knives). as someone who regularly deals with unsubs, she doesn't want to put you in any danger that could remind her of anything she herself has been through.

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

let's be real: elle greenaway is a pussy eating god. she eats you out like a woman starved, and damn it feels so good. and yes, while she does love receiving, she loves giving you as much pleasure as possible.

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

she loves being rough and fast because it makes you loud, but when she slows down, you can bet that it's to edge and make you beg for more.

Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

although she doesn't particularly favour it, quickies are quite common on account of how much she's away with the b.a.u.. she does make the most out of it though, because she does like going fast, but she still prefers to take her time and make you cum again and again.

R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

knowing elle, she's all about risks. sometimes on days where you're visiting the b.a.u., she likes to tease you by small innuendoes and putting her pen near her mouth. when it's apparent you're hot and bothered, she takes you to the bathroom and eats your pussy out while you struggle to keep your moans to yourself.

S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)

oh tons and tons of naughty texts are exchanged (phone calls too, which can sometimes escalate to phone sex). pics are definitely sent. when you started sending each other provocative pics, it began with tasteful pictures (clothed or if not clothed, covered with hands; cleavage, thighs, ass, etc.), but over time they escalated to full on nudes.

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

strap-ons are elle's go to for pleasuring you (aside from using her tongue). she has a couple different kinds of dildos that she loves to use on you. she also uses vibrators, both on herself and you.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

elle loves to tease and edge you. it's so attractive to her when you beg her to let you cum or touch you. of course, she doesn't want to make it torturous for you, so she has you grind against her mouth/hands/strap-on until you're close...at which point she gives you what you want and makes you orgasm.

V= volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

she moans more than she whimpers. and while she isn't particularly loud, she makes it apparent that she's having a good time by having the sweetest wanton moans.

W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

as someone who loves control, elle would love it if you decide to be the one in control for a night. she wants you to feel powerful and dominating in the bedroom (she mostly just wants you to ride her face).

X= x-ray (what's going on behind those panties)

again, small patch of hair she keeps neat and trimmed. other than that, her pussy is pretty and you love eating her out.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

with you, sort of medium to slightly high, but when she's away, high as can be. she misses you dearly when she's without you, so when she comes back, be prepared to not walk tomorrow. regularly she can go two to four rounds and she can definitely last a good while.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

she always makes sure you're comfortable and asleep before going to sleep herself. she cares for your wellbeing and wants you to know how much she appreciates and cares for you so after you have sex, you tend to fall asleep to the sound of her softly whispering "good girl, you're so amazing, you did wonderful..."

#★ mdni #★ sei’s headcanons #★ requests for sei #★ sei’s lexicons #★ elle greenaway #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds headcanons #elle greenaway #elle greenaway x reader #lola glaudini #fanfic #fanfiction

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carolmunson · 2 years

Text

peanut butter vibe. (steve harrington x thick!reader)

fulfilling my own request for mean!hot!thick!reader and hot!rich!wealthy!corporate!steve harrington who is not so secretly in love with you. takes place in 1996 - reader and steve are 29 turning 30

word count: 10.2K

warnings: 18+ minors dni, f!reader, smut smut smut smut, there is smut everywere in this. from flashback smut to actual smut, they've BEEN fucking. mild daddy kink, face sitting, face riding, unprotected p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving), references to shower sex. body type mention, very little body insecurity mention, reference to an ex boyfriend saying reader was 'too big' for something but it's not like -- something that they take into consideration. dirty talk, pet names (honey, baby, 'good girl' etc.), mild choking, steve is so bitchy but also so soft in this i hate him.

"Hi Stevie, it's me. I'm uh, I'm back a little early, Carly's having her baby soon -- I know it was a little weird last time with Andy being with me. We um, we broke up so he's not here this time. It wasn't like a big blow out or anything but -- why am I talking about this on your answering machine? Sorry. I'll be at Porter's tonight around 6 if you wanted to meet me there? It'd be cool to see you, I guess. -sigh- It's hard to bully you when you aren't responding. Anyway, bye -- I know you'll be there at 5:57 because you can't wait to see me."

Steve let out a sigh while the answering machine closed out with a beep, the robotic voice announcing 'End of Messages'. He took his glasses off and ran a hand over his face, tossing a look at the clock on the wall across from him. It was almost quitting time, and Porter's was only a twenty minute drive away from the office. Part of him selfishly didn't want to show up, or maybe show up a little late to make you sweat since you'd forced him to meet your boyfriend last time. Well, ex boyfriend now.

You and Steve weren't friends in high school. He was busy being King Steve, basketball playing jock covered in ladies and popular people. You were busy in drama club and creative writing in the library, protecting your friends from people like Steve. Sure you knew each other, you graduated in the same year, had a couple of classes together -- but neither of you were very interested in offering each other the time of day. Two incredibly different ships passing in the night.

You weren't Steve's type in high school, either. Steve was always caught with what you'd describe as 'pretty little things'. Girls with waists he could wrap his hands around, thin and toned thighs, girls with a little jiggle where it mattered the most and none where it didn't. The girl's wearing bikini's to his house parties when the pool was open. Maybe if you had looked like that, you would've known Steve in high school -- but then again, he wasn't really the kind of guy you were trying to hail down in Hawkins.

When you weren't getting finger blasted backstage by Eddie 'The Freak' Munson when he got to the theater too early for Hellfire Club, you were making eyes at college freshman at the coffee shop you worked at. Something about slightly older men, y'know? A little mature, a little more sure of themselves. Pouring over books and scribbling in their notebooks behind their frames, staying until close to finish a paper or study for an exam. You had one or two wrapped around your finger your senior year before you left to go to school in Chicago. After Chicago it was New York -- working in marketing for a cosmetics line.

You'd come back to Hawkins every year for the holidays, but one year when your grandfather passed away you ended up at Porter's after the funeral. You were 24 and heartbroken, nursing a glass of red wine, looking out of place in your Manhattan clothes in the cozy small town bar.

You were alone at the stools until Steve Harrington came through the door, suit jacket slung over his shoulder and tie loosened over his button down. He nodded at the bar tender who instinctively poured him a whiskey before he even made it to the barstool two over from you.

"Rough day, Harrington?" he asked, sliding the drink down to him.

"You wouldn't believe, Paul," he shook his head, carding his fingers through his hair. He rested his chin on one hand, propped up on his elbow, catching your movement in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and looked over at you, a endearing smile lighting up his tired face -- that Harrington charm.

"What about you? Rough day?" he asked. At first you didn't realize he was talking to you, looking down into your wine and listening to the drone of whatever sports game was on the TV. You were brought back to earth when a soft 'hey' came from his direction.

"Me? Oh, yeah. My grandpa's funeral," you said with a scrunched face, shrugging, "Sort of a huge downer."

"Oh, wow," Steve said, turning his full body towards you on the stool, "Sorry for your loss -- that's -- yeah that beats my day. Sorry about that."

You murmur a thank you and go back to your wine, hearing him shift in his seat.

"You look really familiar," he says gently, scanning your face.

"We went to high school together," you say with a smile after a sip of your Malbec, "Class of '85."

"Hawkins High? You sure?," his voice gets a little syrupy, "I think I'd remember you."

"I was in drama -- wasn't really your type," you say with a smart head tilt. It didn't bother you that you hadn't been. The same way it didn't bother you that you might've been his type now.

You spent three hours together talking at the bar, exchanging stories about high school and your years out of it. He told you how he just started on the sales team for some big insurance company and felt so out of his depth but at least he got to wear a suit. You told him about your dingy apartment in the Lower East Side and how you missed driving all the time.

You spent another hour fucking in his BMW, riding him in the back seat tucked in a dark corner of the Porter's empty parking lot. Your skirt pushed up over your hips.

"Fuck," Steve grunted through gritted teeth, splayed out in the center of the back seat, his legs as far out as that could go, "Y'feel so fucking good. So fucking good on top of me."

You whimpered in response, the curve of his cock hitting your spongey, sensitive g-spot with every bounce. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as his hands moved smoothly over your thighs, finger tips digging into your fleshy hips when he got your reflection in the rear view mirror. Rear view, indeed. He let his eyes rest on the reverberation of your ass coming down on his hips and big legs with each shove down on his cock. The wet smack! of is crotch hitting against your soaked pussy making him want to fuck you even harder. He kneaded your body in his hands, grabbing handfuls of you as he got to your backside, humming while he felt it shake just out of his grasp.

You yelped when his warm palm cracked down on it, an angry sting running through your lower body. You couldn't help but tighten around him, slick dripping over him between your legs.

"Hm, you like that? You like when I smack that fucking ass?" he asked, holding your hips down so he could buck into you with a faster speed. Groaning while he pumped with vigor, you hear another hard crack on your ass resounding in the backseat before you feel the burn of it. Your whines made his cock twitch, slowing down to feel your hips grinding desperately against him for more friction. You slapped your palms gently against his clothed chest, pouting as you shimmied for more of his assault against your aching cunt.

“You love this cock, huh? Look at you, so fuckin' needy for it,” he gloated while your eyes narrowed in on him. Oh no, you weren't about to give Steve Harrington the satisfaction of telling him how fucking amazing his dick felt plowing into you. You weren't about to admit that all the things girls would say about him in high school were true. You reached for his jaw, holding it tight in your hand to look down at him while his hips slowed to a stop. He looked up at you, his eyes a little glassy, his grip loosening on your hips.

“Shut - your mouth,” you hissed down at him. He flushes, a smirk slips onto his lips as he leans back, putting his hands behind his head, his elbows splayed out next to him.

"Yes ma'am," he says with a soft raise to his eyebrows.

"If you'd like," he starts, taking his glasses off and tucking them into his breast pocket. He looks unbothered by your act of dominance while he runs a hand through his hair and leans forward to close the gap between you. His hands digging firmly into your ass to keep you balanced on his thighs.

His lips ghost yours while he speaks low and huskily, "I can take you back to mine and show you all the other ways I know how to use it."

He ate your pussy with the lights on and gave you his number before driving you back to your place.

'I like talking to you,' he shrugged, 'Call me whenever.'

And so began a so far, five year friendship -- you'd have long phone calls every few weeks or months when your busy schedules allowed. Staying updated on each other: how work was going, what bad dates you both had been on, what hijinks you'd been getting into with friends. Promotions, birthdays, hardships. It was nice to have a friend from home, someone who sort of knew the people you knew before you left. Nice to gossip a little, nice to laugh with each other.

Every time you came back to Hawkins, you'd meet up at Porter's for a drink. Have a real talk like you did the first night you got to know each other and then somehow, for some reason, you'd end up back at his place.

"What'd I say? Right on time, Harrington," you call out when he comes through the door. Steve groans, looking at his watch -- 5:57 on the dot. He'd had a long day, he was tired, and for a moment the sound of your voice made him grit his teeth.

You watch him check his watch and his smile tightens. He looks good -- suit much more refined from when you first really met him five years ago. Tailored, in a color that compliments his skin, his tie perfectly kept to his chest with what you assume was a pricey tie clip, shoes shined. He'd fit in great on Wall Street if he'd just get a fucking hair cut.

The way he walks towards you holds a different confidence than it had in the last year and a half when you were with Andy. Though it was clear he didn't particularly like Andy, he was perfectly pleasant -- able to slip right into a cadence of faux friendship you only wished Andy could've done. You once him over a second time as he sits in the stool next to you, his cologne was new, but expected. It felt like every man you knew was wearing Aqua di Gio.

"I know you're always so desperate to impress me but I gotta say, you look a little overdressed for Porter's. Were you nervous or something?" you ask sweetly, sipping on your red wine. You slide a whiskey double infront of him and he looks down at it, a frustrated smile breaks against his face. He bites the tip of his tongue between his teeth, shaking his head -- his hair moves with him.

"Looks like you didn't bother getting dressed up for me at all," he bites back, "C'mon, Manhattan -- a Hawkins High sweatshirt?"

Manhattan -- his favorite nick name when you got too big for your britches. A little too snobby for his liking, which was funny coming from a man with more designer clothing than you could dream to afford.

You looked down at yourself, you'd stolen the sweatshirt from your little sister -- your original one too battered and stained to see the light of day again. Sure, maybe your light wash bootcut jeans weren't screaming high fashion but your black square toed boots were cute! You swore you looked good before you left, but suddenly you weren't sure. You'd fallen off dressing 'nice' when you were home, it just wasn't worth it.

"Okay, mean," you spit, not giving off offense -- but not hiding it either.

"I like the boots, though," he shrugs, lifting the tumbler to his lips. The golden brown of the whiskey matched his eyes, they seemed to soften as the liquid met his mouth.

"Top shelf?" Steve's teeth are bright and straight in his smile while he sets the glass down.

"Do I ever disappoint?" you ask, crossing your legs. He burns pink at the question.

"Never," he's earnest in his response, finally making full eye contact with you, "You staying through the holidays?"

"Just for a few days, then heading back to wrap up Q4, I'll be back on the 23rd like always," you say. He nods and stands up, scooting his bar stool closer to yours -- just enough that your knees brushed. He leans forward, acting like it's too loud to hear you but the bar is only half full. You lean forward too, resting your chin on your hand, elbow drilling into your crossed thighs.

"And how's Carly?" he asks, you can see the delicate five o'clock shadow peeking through on his chin and neck. His lips full and wet with whiskey, he slides his tongue over them slowly to collect the flavor.

"So over being pregnant," you roll your eyes over your older sister's dramatics, "But you know -- she's excited. I'm excited, too! I get to live out my dreams of being the mysterious, hot, rich aunt."

"So, what -- Andy didn't want to be the rich uncle?" he asks, you note that he drops 'mysterious' and 'hot'. The mention of Andy stings a little and your eyes droop down to your wine.

"Sorry," he says, his comforting hand falling on your knee, "I'm sorry."

He squeezes your knee when you don't look up at his apology, a beat passes while you contemplate saying something mean -- but it's a little nice to see him feel apologetic.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, his thumb soothingly running back and forth over your thigh as his hand moves further up. Steve frowns at your disappointed face, he hated crossing the line by accident.

You shake your head no, tilting your head back up, "Let's wait on that. I wanna hear about that big promotion you got -- we haven't really gotten to talk about it."

Steve got promoted to Director of Sales six months ago and it was kicking his ass way less than his previous management position. What was most exhausting was how incompetent everyone was.

"Well, you were kind of too busy --" he started, but quickly shook his head out of the bit, "It's fine, it's a lot of work -- god, no one ever knows what they're doing. A lot of directing going into this director of sales thing."

"Aww, my little scumbag -- running the insurance show," you coo, "You should do car sales next, so sleazy, you'll fit right in."

"You're somethin' else, tonight," he laughs, taking his hand off your leg, "And are you any better? Working for a company that tells women they're ugly so they'll buy all your shit? How's it going at L'Oreal anyway?"

You sigh and roll yours eyes, "More like L'Ore-hell. I just transferred into the marketing team from customer insights and it's somehow -- boring? I already know the answers to all of the problems they come up with. It's like they don't know who their customer base is."

Steve's eyes sparkle while you continue to rant about ROIs and think tanks, he loves when you talk about how much you hate your job. You get so passionate, you talk so fast he can barely keep up.

"I wish I could check your blood pressue right now," he jokes, it's the kind of joke adults make. Sometimes it feels like you're both playing the parts of adults at these bar hang outs -- two kids in their parent's clothes on barstools, just giggling.

"When I went to the doctor they had to check it twice because I was talking about work when they checked it the first time -- that's how stressed out it makes me," you huff.

"Sorry, I just made that all about me, can you please let me more about your director job -- are you at least happy about the promotion?" you ask.

You miss his hand on your leg but it's probably just the wine talking. Paul comes over to replenish the glass without asking, you and Steve were both two drinks and go kind of people (sometimes you'd sneak a third if he wasn't paying attention).

"I mean, sure -- I'm a step away from getting into a chair position. I'm making more money than I know what to do with. My dad is thrilled for the first time ever," he explains, always so expressive but you catch him nervously swipe through his hair, "But -- fuck...y'know?"

"I don't know," you laugh into your glass, "What do you mean, 'fuck'?"

"I'm gonna be thirty next year and like, what do I have to show for it other than --"

"Other than being a wealthy hometown high school basketball super star, swimming in pussy, who got a cushy office job two years after graduating because your daddy was tired of seeing you work at Family Video, and now is the director of sales at a big wig insurance company after only what -- seven years in the company? And wears designer suits and is still swimming in pussy?" you say in one breath. He sighs at you and leans his head into his hand, elbow resting on the bar.

"Sure -- I guess," he smiles, but it's a sad smile.

"What more do you want, Steve?" you ask with a shrug, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here."

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I mean look at you -- every time you come back you have a new story to tell me, something exciting that happened to you. I have -- pfft -- 'They hired a new secretary! Here's the gossip about other people in Hawkins I learned from my mom! I'm still sort of a loser!"

"I mean sure, yeah, you're a loser," you agree, "But not, y'know, not like -- in the bad way."

He tosses you a look but you smile back at it, making him smile back at you. This time it's genuine, you figure the whiskey is helping. Steve sits back up to full height and leans back in his bar stool, knees splaying out. If he took his suit jacket off you'd swear he'd look like one of those 1950's husbands whose a little annoyed that dinner isn't ready yet -- your thighs press tight together.

"I think you sound bored," you suggest, "Like you need something different."

He drums his fingers on the bar, staring at them while he speaks, "I have some options I've been thinking about, but I don't know. Don't wanna make a fool of myself if it doesn't work out."

"Don't wait too long," you say with a shrug, "Another ten years will fly by like that." You snap your fingers for emphasis.

"What happened with Andy?" he presses, sipping his whiskey to down the rest and putting the empty glass on the table.

You 'ugh' under your breath and take a big sip of wine before you feel him tug at the end of the stem, "Sloooow down. Don't wanna to have to carry you out of here."

"You couldn't carry me, Harrington," you say flatly.

"We both know that I can carry you, but okay," he says with a quirked brow, unimpressed with your attitude. The memory of him hoisting you up against the shower tile in his bathroom with your fleshy thighs wrapped tight around him flashes through your mind. Hot breath and hot water running all over you while he grunted into your ear with each desperate thrust. Steve notices your cheeks heat up -- he knows what you're thinking about, because he is too. A satisfied smile settles onto his lips.

"Alright, settle down," you say, pushing your glass a little away from you towards Steve while his next whiskey arrives. You aren't sure if you're talking to him or to yourself.

"I just..." you breathe out of your nose, "It wasn't working out. I was tired of taking care of him."

"Oh, you broke up with him?" Steve confirms.

"Yeah," you sit back a bit, furrowing your brow, "Did you think he broke up with me?"

"I don't know, you seemed really sad about it!" Steve says, his hands outstretched, "I thought he left you."

"He didn't," you say, "I left, but it's still a bummer. Thought maybe he could've been it, y'know? But, thinking back it would've been -- I don't know -- it wasn't going to happen."

"He didn't want to get married?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I don't think that was in his five year plan, he barely took me out to dinner," you complained, "I was paying for everything 'cause I had a better job."

Steve crossed his arms while you talked, frowning while you continued to ramble about Andy and the break up.

"I just felt like I was putting a lot of effort into him, and I wasn't getting anything in return," you shrug, "And like, that's okay. I'm so used to doing that but...I don't know, I think I just would like for someone to take care of me for a change."

You pause, considering what you said and shake your head, "That sounds so selfish, oh my god."

"I don't think it sounds selfish at all," Steve shakes his head, "I think you're sort of asking for the bare minimum -- I mean fuck, he didn't take you out to dinner? I've taken you out to dinner and you've never even been my..."

You're both quiet for a beat while he trails off, neither of you looking at each other. You reach for your wine and he moves the glass away just as your fingers graze the stem. You lift your butt of the stool and pluck it out of his hand, taking another - smaller - sip. He looks at you like a disappointed father.

"Maybe I wanted to try it? Ugh, you're right Manhattan, you're so selfish," Steve teased.

"You don't like Malbec, Stevie," you swirl the booze in your glass, "That's why I order it."

Steve knows that's why you order Malbec, that's why he kept ordering whiskey -- you don't like it, but he'll know you're getting a little drunk if you ask for a sip of his drink. That's when he knows it's time to take you home, he'd sleep with you another night. He doesn't want you to get too drunk tonight, something about your flushed cheeks. The way you look in those boot cut jeans -- especially when you excused yourself to the bathroom and he could watch you walk away. Whew.

Steve waits for the door to close behind you to hail down Paul to get the check.

"She's gonna get pissy that you're covering it," Paul said while passing him the bill for your drinks, "She told me not to let you pay when she got here."

"Paul -- What's she gonna do? Kill me?" he gestures his hand out while using the other to reach for his wallet. He pulls out a few bills, including a generous tip, and passes them to Paul indiscreetly.

"Steve -- come on!" He winces at your voice, "I told you last time I had it next!"

"My hand slipped -- suddenly the money just appeared in Paul's register, there was nothing I could do," Steve held his hands up.

"Paul!" you call down the bar, but the yell turns into a laugh, "You promised you wouldn't let him pay!"

"He threatened me within an inch of my life. Had to let the man do what he wants," Paul said, putting the cash in the register. You settle back into your stool and cross your legs again, smoothing your damp hands on your jeans.

"I'm gonna kill you, Harrington," you mutter to your knees.

"I feel like 'thank you' would've been a much nicer thing to say," he's always so cool when he talks. You envy how easy it is for him to be charming, to turn it on quickly. Sometimes he makes you feel nervous and seventeen again, even though you've done this so many times before. He looks at you over the whiskey glass while he sips it, eyes glittering behind his glasses. Neither of you have to say anything to know what happens after his finishes his drink.

When you left, he reached for your hand when the door to Porter's closed behind you. You didn't need the support, the parking lot wasn't icy or snow covered, you weren't drunk -- but you let his fingers lace with yours. He guides you deliberately to his car -- of course it's new -- a dark green Porsche 911. What a tool.

"You like my new toy?" he asked. It was easily the most expensive car you'd seen in Indiana.

"Steven," you're a little exasperated -- sometimes he was such a poor little rich boy, "Why?"

He shrugs, "Felt like it."

You let go of his hand to walk to the passengers side door, waiting for him to unlock it while you shiver. He notices you didn't have a coat on, shaming himself silently for not offering his trench for the short walk.

You both get in when he unlocks to doors and you eye the interior, the plush leather of the seats. You squint a little when you cast your eyes over to him, "I feel like you're compensating for something."

"Oh yeah?" he asks casually, starting the car and cranking the heat, "What am I compensating for? Wanna remind me?"

You cross your arms and don't answer because he doesn't have anything to compensate for. Steve Harrington was born blessed, if you were more religious you'd swear he was God's favorite.

"That's what I thought," he says with a grin while pulling out of the parking lot. His hand meets your head rest while he stretches his neck back to check for cars. The same hand falls to your thigh when you make it on the road, sliding his palm over the swell of it -- his fingers resting inside. He let his eyes glance at how your hips filled up the small passengers seat at a red light, your jeans tight over your thighs.

Steve gave you a soft squeeze when the light turned green, you put your hand over his hand at the gesture -- relacing your fingers. You don't notice the gentle smile blooming onto his face, too busy looking at Christmas lights on the houses outside.

You don't waste time when you both get into his house, slipping off your shoes at the entry way -- bolstering passed the darkened livingroom to the stairs in his mini-mansion. He follows quickly behind you, getting ahead of you to get into his room to turn on the bedside lamps.

"Are those new?" you whisper -- it's not like anyone is home, it's Steve's house, but the darkness makes you feel like you have to be quiet. He comes back over to you, quick on his socked feet and pulls you in for a feverish kiss.

"Yeah," he says between kisses, all harsh breaths and wet clicks, "I had a new -- mmm -- uh fuck -- new decorator come in."

His hands are wound in your hair while he keeps control of your head, his kisses go from fast and hungry to slow and controlled.

"I'll show you later," he mumbles against your lips. You nod in agreement, you did genuinely want to see. What fancy hotel was it based off of this time?

"This is okay, right?" he asks, pulling away, "I'm sorry I didn't ask I just -- old habits, I guess."

"It's okay, Stevie," you assure, his hands slipping out of your hair and onto your full cheeks. He squishes them together a little and smiles into a little chuckle. Sometimes you're so cute to him he can't stand it, he wants to eat you whole -- wants to keep you in his bed forever.

"Good," he mumbles again before settling back in for a deep kiss that leaves you moaning softly into his mouth, "Missed feeling you like this."

"You're so needy," you tease, his hands dropping from your face to your hips, feeling his own press against yours.

"Oh, you feel that?" he smirks, dick hard in his slacks -- straining despterately to get your attention.

"Needier than I thought," you scoff, "You gonna make it, Steve? You don't even have your jacket off yet."

"Watch your mouth," it's not mean when he says it, he likes when you tease him because you have nothing to back it up. You've never left unsatisfied -- even when you were on top calling him your 'sweet boy', you'd get in the shower after with your legs shaking. Shivering against him when he'd get on his knees and lick at your sensitive clit just to watch you leave hand print on the glass.

"You just sound so pretty, miss. I can't help myself," he'd say from below you, water droplets resting on his eyelashes while you gushed over his mouth.

Steve breaks away to take off his jacket and looks at it for a split second -- hesitating.

"You wanna hang it up, huh?" you know how he gets.

"Will you be mad? I just don't want it to crease," he pleads.

"You're gonna get the suit dry cleaned anyway," you say back, laughing.

"I know, I know, but I have to -- I just have to hang it up, I'm so sorry," he presses a chaste peck to your lips before disappearing into his walk in closet. You take your time getting undressed because you know he'll be at least seven to nine minutes while he puts everything back in the 'to be dry cleaned' part of the closet.

You keep your bra and panties on, white satin, a little lace. He's always a sucker for something angelic that's a little grown up -- but you guess you are grown ups now. It's weird to consider.

He emerges from the closet in his boxer breifs with a frown, "Why'd you take your clothes off without me?"

"You took your clothes off without me," you counter point, "Did you want me to just sit here and wait for you?"

"Kinda," he says with a half shrug, "Would've been nice."

You get a little giddy while he approaches you, his smile building when yours does. His hands skate over the flesh on top of your flared ribs, over to your back. His fingers gliding over the back strap of your bra before snapping it off of you, dropping it to the floor. He traces the indents on your skin from the clothing, red and raw. Big hands grope at your breasts before following the slope of your waist back down to your ass, filling his hands greedily.

"Missed her the most," another chaste kiss to your lips, "But I think you knew that." Steve had always thought he was a tits guy until he met you, maybe you were the exception. Maybe he liked all your parts.

"I knew that," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Can you stop stalling, Harrington? This wine's gonna wear off soon."

With your hold on his neck, laying you back on the mattress was an easy feat. He spread you out wide, pushing your hands above your head while he settled his hips against yours. He couldn't help himself from starting to rut against you -- you were so warm, your pussy practically begging him to fuck you.

"Ooh," you moaned out against your better wishes, his covered cock giving you just enough friction in your panties to set you ablaze. You could feel yourself dripping into them, begging, waiting for him.

"You really want me tonight, huh?" he asked hungrily, knowing the answer.

"Y-yes, Stevie," you whined, letting go of his hands to let your nails graze down his back, feeling the length of him trapped in his boxers press against you.

"Oh-ho-ho, whose needy now, hm?" he teases in your ear, grinding mercilessly against you, his chest pressed up against yours while he keeps you pinned the the mattress.

"So quick with that tongue earlier, what happened?" he smirks, getting right in your face, brushing his nose against yours. You roll your hips against his, your thighs sliding against his hips as another mewl escapes you at the friction.

"Oh, I see. You wanna be good for daddy now, don't you?"

"Steven," your eyes pop open, your mouth gapes with a smile, "You can't just say stuff like that."

He laughs into a kiss on your neck, "C'mon, I think you liked it."

"I don't really think you're the 'daddy', type," you say, your voice taunting.

"No?" he asks his voice is calm, but his eyes are challenging you.

"No, you're too nice," you smirk while he comes up to kiss your mouth, "You've never won a fight in your life. And you're what, almost 30? Who're you bossin' around?"

He watches you raise a brow when you say it, your lower lip tucking slowly between your teeth in a grin -- god he loves when you do that.

"Lot of secretaries to go through in the office, mmm," he hums when your lips graze his neck, your tongue striping up to his jaw, "Learned a couple things."

"You think I can't boss you around?" he asks, pressing up off of you and leaning onto one of his forearms.

"I know you can't boss me around," you say, your brows quirking while you push at his chest to get on top of him like you always do. Already soaking at the thought of him whining for you to fuck him, to cum all over him, grabbing at your thighs, hips, and ass desperately. His heaving breaths after finishing, resting his head on your stomach while you stroked his hair, feeling his lips press against your soft, pudgy, belly to let you know he's ready for the next round.

He caught your wrist as you pushed and pressed it back down into the mattress.

"Oh c'mon Stevie, I love hearing you beg for me," you tease before he presses his mouth against yours, noses squishing together. Over the years, Steve craved closeness from you -- pulling you flush against his chest when you were on top, wrapping his arms around your back. Clutching you, fingertips sinking into your cloud-soft flesh while you moaned into his ear.

"Think you can beg for me for a change," he mutters, pulling away as you reach to kiss him again. A little whine pulls from your throat and he purrs at the sound. Right where he wants you.

He gets on his knees between your legs and looks down at you, eyes roaming the expanse of your body -- your broad shoulders, soft skin, delicate curves and indents. His personal Aphrodite -- flesh turned fine art. All the Rennaissance paintings in the world couldn't do you justice. He stuttered the first time he saw you naked, overwhelmed by you and how not shy you were for him to see you. Steve let's a finger trail along the lining of your silk panties at your thigh, you shiver at his soft touch.

"Take these off," he says, but it comes out as a demand.

"So mean," you tease, tugging at the elastic and lifting your hips up to push them over your butt and thighs. He shrugs off your jest, grabbing your underwear when they get too far down for you to reach and throwing them on the floor. He's rough when he flips you over to your stomach, the flesh of your ass bouncing with the movement and he salivates immediately.

"I'll show you mean," he says, it's more playful than menacing. He brings a hand down hard on your soft body, ass reverberating with the action and you gasp -- tensing all around.

"Ow -- Steve!" you cry out, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, shit,” he smooths over the pink handprint blooming on your skin, “I’m sorry.”

"It's okay, it's fine, just -- I don't know, warn a girl," you laugh. His hand drags over the curve of your ass to your thigh.

"Did you like that?" he asked, his voice dropped to his lower register and you inadvertently press your thighs together. Your face drops into your arms on the mattress, blushing.

"Is that a yes?" he asks, fingers snaking to your inner thigh and your hips roll slowly at the feeling. He hums when he sees you nod into your forearms.

"On your knees, baby," he suggests, tapping your thigh. You adjust onto your knees, forearms still on the mattress in a perfect deep arch. He sits back at first, taking a moment to marvel at your ass in the air -- committing it to memory. He keeps his hand on your inner thigh, massaging gently while you settle into position.

"Open up a little more for me," he's gentle, pushing at your flesh so you open up wider. You adjust and he grins, sliding his boxers off -- you whimper when he does.

"You okay?" his voice laces with acute concern, it wasn't a sexy whine or cry like you usually do. He stands up so he can soothe you from the side of the bed, his hand smoothing over your back.

"I thought you were gonna -- I didn't know we were immediately gonna fuck," you say, leaning your face to the side to look at him.

"Oh no - I wasn't just gonna - when have I ever just gone in and fucked you?" he laughs, "I just wanna jerk off while you sit on my face, is that okay?"

"So much for me begging for you," you smirk, "Sitting on your face, just like old times."

He huffs a breath through his nose looking down at you, his face unimpressed. He leans forward, face inches away from yours, "Who was just whining over the idea that I might not eat her pussy tonight?"

You burn at his words and he notices, "Was it you?"

You nod with an embarrassed smile, "If you're a good girl, I'll let you be the boss next time. I'll teach you a few things, yeah?"

"Steeeeve," you whine while your skin is in flames, "You can't say that."

He gets on the bed behind you, one hand on the bend of your hip, the other with his fingers sliding against your open folds -- finding slicknes without surprise.

"Can't say what?" he asks with a smile, "Can't call you my good girl?"

Your hips push back on his fingers when he says it and you scold yourself at your body's betrayal. You hear him tutt behind you and you clench around nothing at the sound, "Sure feels like I can."

He slides under you like a well versed mechanic, arms and hands immediately wrapping around your thighs, stifiling their nervous jiggle. He guides you down to his mouth, your posture changing while you sit further up and back so you can see his eyes and he can see all of you. Your hips wiggle as you feel his breath on your opening.

"Are you excited?" he asks, you nod and he can't hold out anymore at the sight of your smile. You feel his tongue drag, poking between your folds once you relaxed -- his fingers reaching to keep you spread open to start.

Your smile transforms to a pornographic gasp, head immediately thrown back as his tongue stripes you again. Your hips rock against his mouth, Steve smirks to himself into the next lick, flicking over your clit and a peal of mewls escape your lips.

He feels at home here, your full, thick thighs keeping his ears warm in the December weather. This big cold house suddenly feeling full with your voice moaning his name. He didn't need the whiskey if you were offering to quench his thirst like this.

You feel his tongue lap at your opening, the thick, wet, muscle pushing in past your walls trying to desperate to out maneuver him. His face was coated in your juices, dripping freely own onto his chin and cheeks while he fucked you with his tongue. He watched as your hand reached down to tease your clit, he caught it in his, pushing it up to your breasts.

"Play with your tits f'me baby, let me watch," he says, scooting up a bit.

"But Steve I --" you huff, desperate for some extra stimulation.

"I'm getting there, if you'd just be patient for like, twenty seconds," his voice sounds like he's back at the bar, admonishing you like you're rushing him to get out of the bathroom.

"You're ruining the mood," you cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

"Aww, I'm ruining the mood?" he mocks, a fake frown matching yours. He slides a finger slowly past your tight walls and you falter a little but hold to your convictions. He holds eye contact with you through his glasses, pushing a second finger in to meet the first.

Your mouth gapes, eyes pricking with tears as your walls close down hard on him, "Am I still ruining the mood, baby?"

A silent cry rattles your chest, falling quietly out of your open mouth. Your eyes close tight while he snickers, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm, "It's all better now, isn't it?"

His voice makes you dizzy, he used to talk to you like this when you first started fucking. Cocky and confident -- certain he was making you feel good, and fuck he was. What did he ask you to do before? Your brain was racking for the command, but too overwhelmed with pleasure when he hooked his fingers to find your g-spot.

"Stevie -- oh fuck, fuck, please more," you whine out, you sound pathetic but you can't even find your self to care. It feels like a roller coaster reaching it's peak with every curve of his fingers teasing your spongey center. 'Play with your tits f'me baby, let me watch.' There it is, that you could do. You palm your breasts, pulling and pinching at your hard nipples looking down at him over your belly pooch. He winks when his tongue finally makes contact with your clit and you shudder instantly. You gush over his fingers, taken by surprised by your own orgasm -- already feeling the second one building.

"That's my good girl," he purrs beneath you, "Stay just like that, okay? I'm not done."

You gulp, feeling his soft kitten licks back on your clit start to ramp up to fast flutters -- Steve didn't want to start you back up slowly. Your breath had barely steadied before it picked back up again, flexing your core to keep yourself hovering above him. Your hand reached down to his hair, tugging while your thighs tensed.

"Ride my face, baby, come on," he encourged, "You've never been nervous to do it before."

"I --," you hesitated, "I didn't with Andy -- it's been a while."

"What?" he asked, surprised, pushing up so his full head peeked out from between your legs, "Are you fucking with me?"

"He...ugh, Steve," you leaned your head back and then turned it back down, mumbling, "He said I was too heavy."

Steve's eyes furrow, mouth open, unsure at first how to respond -- aghast, "This guy sounds like a fucking loser. You're not too heavy -- god -- who says 'no' to that? What's wrong this this guy?"

Steve shakes his head and pushes back down, "Sit on my face, baby. Fuckin' suffocate me."

You don't have a choice, he pulls you down onto him, your knees sliding further apart and you can't help but start grinding your hips against his tongue. The whole act sounds as lewd as it looks, wet and sticky as he captures your slit in his mouth to suck on it. Spreading your ass in his hands to spread you further apart, moaning low into your pussy so you can feel the vibration through your core.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ooh daddy just like that," the words just pour out of you while you start reaching your second peak, hips writhing onto him with your back arched. Steve grips your ass cheek hard before smacking down on it with a loud 'thwap!', satisfaction burning in his stomach -- daddy, daddy, daddy. The same hand reaches for his neglected cock, covered in pre, leaving a patch of cold liquid on his hard, muscled stomach.

Steve feels your hips hump his mouth in quick succession, his nose bumping your clit rapidly. Your moans get shorter and higher with each flick of his tongue against you until they're just huffed breaths.

"Mmm, come on," he nods up at you, "You can do it, angel."

You nod back, face contorted while tears stain your cheeks, the next roll of your hips his mouth makes contact with your clit again. You see stars, you cum so hard you swear you're pissing. You can hear Steve's grunts under you, collecting your slick to add friction to the fist he's fucking behind you.

"Get on your back," he demands, "Need t'fuck you, holy shit."

You get on your back, looking up at him now on his knees, both of your eyes lust blown in the low light. You weren't a stranger to his cock, but every time you saw it you couldn't help but feel spit build in your mouth. It was angry tonight, tip red and leaking, veins pulsing while he stroked himself looking down at you.

"I don't know, Stevie -- it might be -- it's too much," you say, thighs pressing together to protect your sensitive cunt.

"Two is nothing, honey," he shakes his head opening your legs up, crawling over you to line his tip up with your entrance, "You've given me four in less time."

You whine like a child, but you don't stop him when he slides the tip against your entrance, building up the slickness to slide over his cock. When his tip pops in you hiss, back arching to feel another inch push into you.

"Oh, that shut you up, huh?" that voice was back again, Steve was starting to feel so confident, you might as well start calling him Manhattan. He pushes deep into you, all the way to the hilt -- your legs springing up against your chest automatically -- heels hitting his back.

"You feel so good, Stevie," you moan into his mouth while he leans in to kiss you.

"Pussy's fucking made for me," he rasps while his thrusts pick up, forceful and deliberate. Steve loves fucking you because he knows how well you can take it. You were built sturdy, plush, soft -- he loved how it felt to slam into you. He'd heard it on the radio, some cheesy line 'more cushion for the pushin', but fuck if it wasn't true.

Steve knew he wouldn't last long inside you, your pussy tight and wet -- hugging him in place, resisting his exit. He filled you completely, your eyes rolling back the second you felt the hair at the base of his cock tickle your skin over and over again.

"Steve, oh god Steve," you moan through gritted teeth, tears back to rolling down your cheeks as your nails dig into his back, "Just like that daddy, fuck me like that."

His mouth falls open at your words, the girls on his desk never talk like that. He can't fuck them how he wants to, never throws them around. They don't look at him the way you look at him, soft and pretty. They don't wanna wash his hair for him in the shower after, and kiss the freckles on his back. He doesn't wanna make them dinner after, or give them a ride home. He doesn't blush the way he does when it's you that calls him daddy. When you call out his name. When you look up at him with those eyes. When you hold his hand in the car. When you tease him for coming to Porter's early. When you call every time you come home just to see him when you could see anyone else.

Steve's hand finds your jaw but you guide it to your throat while you bounce against his thrusts, he chuckles wickedly, "When'd you turn into such a whore?"

His fingers press down expertly on your neck while you attempt to moan out an answer that he doesn't wanna hear. He just wants to keep watching your fucked out face and body while he drills into you deeper. His voice lilts into a mocking coo, your cunt drools.

"Just for me, isn't it?" he asks down at you through his glasses, and you nod quickly in his hold, "They're not fuckin' you like this in the city, huh?"

"Had to come all the way back to Indiana to get this dick, didn't you? All the way back home so daddy could fuck you just how you like it," he huffs, feeling himself get close.

"Yes, yes -- had t-to come back for you - oh fuck, fuck," you whine out, raspy and nasal from lack of blood flow.

"Who fucks you like I do, hm? Who else is makin' you come like I can?" he eases up on your throat, moving back to your jaw -- leaning in to give you a sloppy tongue kiss into your gasping mouth. You tighten again over him, gushing whatever creamy spend you had left in you, gripping his shoulder tightly while your eyes pinched closed.

When you're nose to nose again you look up at him, "Nobody, Stevie. Just you, it's just you."

He growls at the confirmation, his hips stuttering -- 'Nobody fucks her like I do,' ringing in his head while he feels his vision start to go white.

"Baby, baby," he starts, his voice softening, "God, fuck -- can I come in your mouth?"

You nod and he groans, panting while your wet walls keep his cock warm and tight inside you. Steve slows his thrusts which just makes the feeling more intoxicating, your sticky thighs meshing with his soaked hilt. You whimper and cry with every push into your overstimulated cunt, your legs almost giving out from being pressed against your chest.

"Jesus Christ. Gonna come in your mouth," he whispers into your neck, "Feels -- oh shit -- fuck, it feels so good in your pussy, though."

Steve knows he can't hold back, quickly pulling out of you while you shoot up onto your elbows. He pulls your head forward with one fell swoop of his big hand, your mouth and thrat sucking in his cock in a vice grip. You can feel the warm liquid start shooting into your mouth immediately, but it doesn't stop you from obediently sucking on it. He's peak caveman brain while he watches you, your eyes shining up at him while he holds his weight up on your head -- grunts and snarls coming out of his mouth while he finishes thrusting into your face.

You take your mouth off as he softens and swallow, gingerly sitting up slowly. Your thighs ache, you're exhausted. He sits down onto his calves, both of you panting on the center of the bed.

"Let me -- let me get you some water," he huffs out, sliding off the mattress into the attatched master bathroom. He's only gone for ten seconds, passing a clear glass into your shaking hand. You sip slowly to start before gulping it down.

"You okay?" he asks, leaning over to kiss your forehead, "You're quiet."

You nod, taking a deep breath and letting it out, "That was...insane."

He laughs, it makes you laugh, and he lays down onto the mattress to stare up at you. You look down at him, offering Steve a weak smile before looking back at your empty water cup. You slide off the bed like he did before, putting the glass back on the bathroom counter, peeing, washing your hands, and walking back out.

You let out a tired sigh, reaching for your clothes strewn about by his dresser -- sliding on your panties.

"What're you doin', Manhattan?" he asks, sitting up, "Got somewhere to be?"

"I'm getting dressed, Steve," you explain, putting your bra back on. Steve's chest hollowed, normally you'd have some pillow talk after -- talk it out. He still had to show you the new house decor.

"Hey, stop," his voice is soft as he waves his hand at you, "You don't have to do that."

"I gotta get home, Steve," you assure, "It's getting late."

"You..." he trails off before taking a deep breath, replenishing his confidence, "You could stay. I can drive you back in the morning."

"Steve..." you start, shimmying a little to get your jeans over your hips and thighs, "I never stay. That's not us, that's not what we do."

"It could be..." he suggests, his voice cracking a little, "Please?"

You stand there, in your bra and unbuttoned jeans, your tummy poking out where the zipper is undone. Your bra suddenly feels tight and uncomfortable, your underwear constricting you under the jeans that feel a size too small.

He looks you over, watching you contemplate it and gets up out of bed to meet you by his dresser. His hands reach to each side of your face, warm and big. His fingertips graze the hair at the edge of your scalp, pinkies and ring fingers on the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly to look at him and your heart hammers, more than it did the first time he started kissing you in his car. Steve's heart matches your cadence, remembering how nervous he was the first time he talked to you -- desperately wanting you to be impressed by him.

"I --" you start blushing, he's never looked at you quite like this, "I don't have anything to wear to bed."

"I don't want you to wear anything to bed," he says, leaning forward to capture your lips in his while you both step awkwardly as a unit back over to the bed, "It'd just get in the way in the morning."

"Please stay," he pleads again, pressing a gentle peck on your lips, "Please -peck-, please -peck-, please -peck-. "

"Okay, okay," you laugh, "Are you sure?"

"I'm begging you," he smiles, leaning his forehead against yours. The tops of his frames hitting your brow bone. He lets go of your face to make work of the top of your jeans, shoving them back down until they pool at your ankles. He unhooks your bra, a little too expertly, and snaps the band of your satin panties before rolling those down too. He moves down with them so he can skate his hands over your thighs and leave a warm kiss on the flesh over your hip bone -- apologizing to the bruise he left there earlier.

"Can't believe you kept your glasses on," you tease, "Dweeb."

He comes back up, sliding his glasses off smoothly, like he did in the back seat of his BMW five years ago, "I like being able to really see you."

"Am I blurry without them?" you asked, trying to take them out of his hand. He snatches them out of your grasp, hiding them behind his back.

"Not really," he says, walking over to the bedside table and placing them next to the lamp, "You told me they made me look handsome back in - think it was -- '94 maybe? -- So I just wanted to keep them on for insurance."

You look down at the floor, "I always think you look handsome, Harrington."

You feel his hand at the back base of your neck and turn to see him behind you, "Come back to bed."

He gets under the sheets and both duvets and turns down the covers next to him, slapping the pillow you're going to sleep on to beckon you forward. You want to roll your eyes but you can't force down the giddiness building in your chest -- sleep over!

You maneuver over to your side of the bed, slipping under the covers while he turns them back over you to tuck you in. Fuck are the sheets nice, they had to be some luxury brand you can only order through a catalog.

Steve clicks off his bedside lamp, leaning over you to click off yours and you catch the remnants of his cologne on his skin. It's not long before you feel his hand skate over you under the covers, sliding over your belly, up over every curve and bump on your body before resting a warm hand on the side of your breast. He hums sleepily and pulls you close to him, pressing his chest against your shoulder. His hot breath fans against your neck where he's settled his head.

"Isn't this nice?" he asks. You nod, turning onto your side to face him while his hand splays across your back to pull you closer. You slide a hand under the pillow, and savor the coolness on your hot skin. Steve looks at you with soft eyes, studying you.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks, "Or, well, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course," you say, looking at him, trying to read his expression.

"Remember -- ah fuck, okay I'm doing this," he says, trying to psyche himself up, "Remember when I said I had some options? To make changes?"

"Yeah, I remember. You can't wait when those opportunities come, Harrington," you lecture, "I've fucked myself so many times with that."

"There's a position in the New York office," he blurts out, "In the head quarters that they're eyeing me for."

Your heart races, "Okay."

"And I'd be...I don't know, sort of demoted but I'd get a huge -- like, huge fucking pay raise," he explains, "And I -- I wanna take it."

A beat passes while he tries to figure out what to say.

"And maybe, I don't know -- maybe we could try this out? Like for real? Instead of just fucking around every Christmas."

You consider it, heat blooming in your cheeks -- the good kind. Your heart starts to swell -- not Steve Harrington asking you out when you're twenty-nine. Sixteen year old you would be screaming.

"What do you think?" he asks, he swipes his hand through his hair and even in the dark you know his cheeks are pink.

"I don't think it's a bad idea," you say, "I think it's the excitement you're looking for -- New York I mean, not me."

"I think you're really exciting," he leans in to kiss you with a grin.

"And I think," he presses his lips against yours again, "I'd do a pretty good job at taking care of you, if you let me."

You laugh through your nose, blushing hard while he kisses your cheek, "That sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"It does sound nice, Steve," you agree, but you don't want him to feel too good about it. You had a reputation to uphold, still. He leans back to look at you, thumb caressing your cheek as your lids fall half down your eyes, "I think I'd really like that."

"You wanna shower? You too tired?" his voice his so gentle you start to melt, but exhaustion weighs heavy on you.

"Too tired," you say, nuzzling forward into his neck -- your head now partially on his pillow.

"We can talk about it more in the morning, yeah?" he asks, a hand reaching up to smooth over your hair.

"Yeah," you said, your breath steadying, "I'll see you in the morning."

He knows you don't like eggs for breakfast but it's all he has in the fridge. It's fine. He'll just order in.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x readder #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #dom steve harrington #steve harrington x you smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things au #steve harrington au #steve harrington x thick!reader

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decembermidnight · 8 months

Text

Dangerous Games

Summary: You hide under the table, pleasing Mando while he talks business with Karga. He's going to punish you for being so shameless later, on his ship.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ mdni, oral (m receiving), helmet stays on, choking, edging (m and f), unprotected sex (p in v), handcuffs, hard dom!din, sub!reader, possessive!din, jealous!din, rough sex, female fingering, semi-public sex acts, degradation kink, humiliation kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk...

A/n: Many thanks for the love you've showed to Cherry Liqueur! Here's my second one shot. As always, I hope you enjoy it! Divider: @saradika-graphics

The cantina on Nevarro is dark and busy tonight. It’s full of bounty hunters and the sun has already set. As always, the sun drops fast on this forsaken planet.

When you and Mando enter inside, you feel all eyes on you two, eyes that are both scared by his daunting presence but also attracted to you, the beautiful woman by his side. You feel safe as you know they wouldn’t dare touch you, they know how possessive and dangerous the Mandalorian is. His hand is wrapped around your waist for everyone to see. You are walking in front of him towards an empty private booth, separated from the others by wooden walls, waiting for the Guild Master, with whom Mando has a meeting to collect his bounties and to receive the pucks of the next quarries.

The discrete booth is perfect for giving the two of them enough privacy to discuss delicate matters about their business, without the risk of anyone else to hear… or see.

This time you want to dare, you want more than just massaging his erection under the table from outside his pants. You want to push his boundaries to the limit, to see where he dares to go.

You are caressing his inner thigh, already teasing him, when you come up with a nasty thought.

"I want to suck your dick while you're talking business with Karga." you whisper in his neck, moving your hand from his thigh to his growing erection.

He tilts the helmet towards you and you smile provocatively in response.

"I want to see if you can keep your cool while I wrap my lips around you." you bite your lip as the thought makes your heart beat faster.

His hand, wrapped in his leather glove, is brushing your thigh, caressing your soft skin slowly, climbing up to the hem of your skirt and giving you shivers as he gets closer to where you want him the most.

"That would be" he pauses as his hand slides to your inner thigh, your legs spreading for him, "very dangerous, you know that?" he whispers, grinning behind his helmet, pleased by the reaction of your body to his touch, and by your hand delicately brushing the bulge in his pants.

"Yes it is. What if he finds me there, under the table, with your dick deep in my throat? What would he think of his best bounty hunter doing such a perverse thing?" you keep going on massaging the cock you can’t wait to have in your mouth.

He grunts and you can feel his dick throbbing. He's excited at the thought, and you know it.

"He's going to be here in a few moments." That's all he says as he slides one of his fingers into your panties and rubs a few circles around your clit, earning a gasp from you. It sounds like an invitation to you.

"Relax and enjoy my mouth. All you need to do is to be the same Mando as always. Will you do that?" you purr into his neck.

He lets out an aroused sigh at the thought, at your sensual voice, at your hand brushing his cock, at what is about to happen.

"Maker, you’re such a slut-" he can't even finish the phrase, you are between his legs already, trafficking with his utility belt to unfasten it.

It would be impossible for anyone else in the cantina to see you there. You are also shielded by Mando’s legs, preventing Karga from ever being able to feel your presence there.

You take his dick out and as you expected, you find it rock hard. You admire his thickness in your hands, your pussy clenching in anticipation of what's to come.

You start by sliding your tongue up and down the shaft, and you feel it twitching in pleasure when he feels your warm, delicate touch. He adjusts himself, sinking into the booth and letting out a sigh that you could barely hear through the modulator.

You continue to softly brush it with your touch, alternating your tongue and your lips, covering its shaft in kisses and trailing your tongue up and down. You want him to only be able to feel your delicate, hot mouth on his cock, so you rest your hands on your thighs.

Mando breathes quietly, and just enjoys the view of you worshipping his cock.

"Fuck" he whispers in complete bliss, completely absorbed by the sight and feel of you between his legs, acting so shameless in public only for him to see, to realise that his Guild Master has entered the cantina and is walking towards your booth.

"Mando!" you hear Karga's familiar voice approaching. "How are you doing tonight?" he asks as he walks inside the booth and sits in front of him, right behind you. You start to feel a tingle of excitement at the thought that he could find you there if he just elongated his legs a little more.

Before Mando can answer, you wet your lips and slowly start to slide the tip of his cock into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue. You want to take your time, slowly increasing the pleasure to see how he handles it.

His cock twitches and he chokes a grunt.

"Fine." he replies, keeping it under control.

"And where is your lovely companion?" Karga asks as he doesn't see you by Mando's side as always.

"O-on the ship." He can barely keep his focus as you are swirling your soft tongue around the head of his dick, all the concentration goes from his brain to his cock, making him falter.

"Are you ok Mando? Is something wrong?" Karga asks in a murmur, genuinely concerned.

You start kissing his favourite spot, the frenulum connecting the tip with the shaft. He's so sensitive over there.

"Just t-tired. Fuck." he stutters as he tries to appear the same, cold blooded, laconic Mando as always.

You can just imagine the look on Karga's face. He knows something's not right.

"Tell me the truth, Mando." His voice is serious and as he gets closer to him, you feel his elbows lean on the table right above you "Is your beautiful lady letting you rest enough?” he whispers, barely audible, before bursting in a laugh.

Mando's whole body goes rigid at the thought of Karga imagining you naked and getting railed. You are his, you only belong to him. He doesn’t like the idea of any other man imagining you in a way he does not agree to.

The thought of his jealousy drives you crazy, and you feel the urge to touch yourself, so you slide your hand up your skirt and move your soaking wet panties to one side, revealing your dripping core to the dirty floor. You start by touching your clit. It’s so swollen and sensitive, and you’re so aroused, your slick is generously coating your pussy, only adding to the already overwhelming pleasure. Your mouth turns more rigid and Mando notices. He knows you’re now touching yourself as you’re sucking his dick, all while he has to appear the same badass bounty hunter as always, and the thought makes him dizzy, so dizzy in fact, that he can’t articulate a proper response.

"This- is not-" he tries to say but all he can think of is your tongue, delicately massaging that perfect spot, while you’re giving yourself pleasure kneeling in front of him. He chokes his cursing and plants his hand firmly on the table. You feel him throb into your mouth. He’s losing his mind over this dangerous game played between the two of you.

Karga bursts into laughter “I get it, I get it, my bad. Let’s talk business.” says as he gathers the credits and the new pucks from his belt.

You slide two fingers inside of your entrance and start to desperately and pathetically fuck yourself while you try to keep the rhythm of your tongue around his tip, knowing that you have to be quiet, knowing that Mando is the one at risk of being caught, while you’re safely shielded by his legs.

Mando’s never been more grateful for the helmet he's wearing. He's completely ignoring Karga who is going on talking about the next quarries, showing him the pucks and briefly describing them and the last place where they were spotted. Mando stays diligently still, his eyes are closed under the helmet, and he's zoning out of the conversation, completely focused on the pleasure you’re giving him and feels by the irregular rhythm of your licks that you’re close to your orgasm.

"Fine, give them all to me. Just-" he clenches his hand into a fist as you take it all in your throat and start deepthroating him to distract yourself from your imminent orgasm, not wanting to cum just yet.

"We could do this another day if you-"

"Fuck” he grits, interrupting him “No. Y-you stay right there and k-keep going." he growls.

“Fine, fine. Not going anywhere. Damn, you’re nervous today.”

There's something even more intimate about this than the secret pleasure you're giving him. You are making the infamous Mandalorian bounty hunter falter with just your mouth. You're making him vulnerable, piercing through his armour with your adoring mouth only. The man under all that, that's always in control of everything, dominating over you, now can't do anything else but sink into your hot mouth and let you give him pleasure the way you want to. It's you who is in control right now, and he can't do anything to stop that.

Words cannot describe how much you are loving this and how wet you are. You can feel your slick completely coating your inner thighs and your hand down to your knuckle. You feel the overwhelming sensation of the orgasm growing deeper and deeper inside of you, so you take as much of him in your mouth as you can to suffocate your moans. Your other hand grips tight to the back of his thigh…

And you cum.

Your vision turns black, and your body is traversed by a devastating force, a blaze, setting your whole body on fire. You sink into him in complete bliss, muffling your moans on his cock, sucking it hard in your mouth, your choked breath brushes the dark curls at the base of his shaft, letting him know this way that you’ve reached your climax.

You’re having an orgasm on the dirty floor of a filthy cantina full of bounty hunters on a forsaken planet, while sucking the cock of a Mandalorian that is discussing business with his Guild Master, who could find out about this all at any moment. The adrenaline rush of your thoughts blends with the mind-blowing power of your orgasm, making your mind dizzy, gripping him even tighter, digging into his tense muscles, afraid but at the same time thrilled at the thought of losing control.

As the feeling gradually fades away and you regain control over yourself, you pass your hand over your pussy and inner thighs to collect your slick and start slowly massaging his dick with it, letting him know how aroused you are when you act this filthy. You give him a few strokes just with your hand to coat him completely, and only then you wrap your lips around him once again and start licking his sensitive spot while you keep stroking his length with your wet hand.

"So here's your credits" Karga puts them on the table and slides them towards Mando. "Count them. It's for all the quarries you're handing today, plus" he sighs "what I didn't have last time."

You realise he is close to his orgasm when you feel his legs stiffen up. He’s dying to rock his hips to push his cock further into your throat, but he can’t, he has to stay perfectly still and rely on your movements only. You push it deep back in your throat and start moving your head up and down, as he would do if he could grab your hair.

The Mandalorian is completely subjugated by your mouth, the overwhelming feeling of his imminent orgasm makes him falter, he suffocates a grunt between his teeth as he slams his hand on the table.

You feel his cock pulsing and immediately starts pumping his white, hot load into your mouth and throat. You swallow, delighted by the fact that you've managed to make him cum like this, while he's working, in a dangerous place, and keep milking him until the last drop has come out. You lick him completely clean, tasting both his and your orgasms on his cock.

"Fine, fine, I'll count them for you." Karga goes on counting the credits in front of the empty armour, as the man inside of it is somewhere else, under that table, inside your mouth, spurting his seed into it.

"All good." he says, making a huge effort right after his orgasm, his cock still pulsing in your mouth.

"Well" Karga puts his hands on the table "I think it's time for me to leave. Say hello to your beautiful lady when you see her, wherever she is. And please, get some rest.” he chuckles as he gets up and leaves.

When Mando sees Karga has left the building, he looks at you tucking his spent cock back in his pants. He nods and you come out and sit close to him.

"Fuck. I need to punish you for being such a whore. Sucking my cock like that, touching yourself so close to Karga. You'll regret this when we get back to the ship." his voice is a coarse growl, and his words ignite you once again, like a flame running from your chest to your core.

"Yes, Mando, make me regret it because I loved it so much, I want to do that again." your voice sounds so deep and sensual as you pass two fingers on your lips and bring them into your mouth, sucking them and letting out a barely audible moan, all while looking at him straight into his visor.

He grabs your throat and you softly mewl in arousal, looking at him with lustful eyes.

"Stop taunting me, pretty girl." he growls as he slowly lowers you on the booth with his hand wrapped around your throat, while the other one holds your legs up in a tight grip, your knees against his shoulder. He lowers his upper body on yours. Now you're face to face with his helmet.

"Do it. Punish me. Here. In front of everyone." you whisper, barely audible, as you take your tits out of your dress and start squeezing them.

"If you didn't just make me cum in your throat, I'd fuck you right here, right now." he starts sliding his hand between your legs, you gradually spreading them as it goes, slowly running towards your hot core.

You hiss and bite your lip as he slides two gloved fingers inside of you, while he tightens the grip on your throat to block your air flux so you can't scream. You let out a choked moan.

"Such a whore. Feel how wet you are. Laying there, with your pretty tits hanging out. Shameless. Getting fingered in this dirty ass cantina. What if someone comes in and finds you like this, huh? Would you like it?" his thick fingers keep digging deep inside of you.

Your back arches and your pussy clenches around his fingers at the thought of someone seeing you like this, with his fingers buried deep inside of you, your almost naked body under his, his hand around your throat. His.

"Yeah, you do." he whispers, grinning under his helmet, pleased at the way your body responds to his teasing. "Stars, you look so beautiful like this - at my mercy, helpless and obedient like a good girl. I could make you cum like this, we both know that, but I won't. You need to learn how to behave." He takes his fingers out and puts them into your mouth. You taste both the salty of your arousal and the leather of his gloves, letting your tongue slide all the way to his knuckle, without ever interrupting eye contact.

"Get up, whore. Let's go back to my ship." he growls, slapping one of your breasts and releasing the grip on your throat.

"Cover yourself." he orders as he gets up.

You obey, sticking your breasts back inside your dress and getting up, fixing your hair and dress. You feel dizzy and shaky, his hand is wrapped around your waist once again as you walk out of the cantina. You walk through the empty, dark streets of Nevarro until you get to the ship, where you get in.

As soon as the ramp closes behind you, you find yourself pinned against the steel wall, your whole body banging against it, Beskar hitting you from behind. He is grabbing your wrists in his iron grip, parallel to your head, and spreading your legs using his feet. His erection is rock hard against your ass.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yes. Like this." you whisper as he rocks his hips rubbing his erection on your ass, moaning shamelessly in your ear. The voice through his helmet is sharp and raspy and you can't help gasping, completely out of breath, your body pressed between the steel wall of his ship and his beskar armor.

"Like this? Pretty girl, look at you. So hungry and desperate for my cock” his voice sounds even darker now, whispered softly into your neck.

"I want you, Mando" you beg "so fucking bad" you rock your hips too, rubbing your butt against his rock hard erection, earning a gasp from the Mandalorian behind you.

His grip on your wrists tightens and he lowers them behind your back, handcuffing you. He slides his hands under your dress, taking your soaked panties off, and turns you around.

He hums in pleasure as he grips your throat with one of his hands, looking at your eyes filled with lust for him.

"On your knees. Now." his voice is dark and peremptory. He's back in charge and he knows it. You obey his order, lowering yourself back on your knees, looking at him from your submissive spot. The visor of the helmet looks into you as he takes off his gloves.

He takes his time working on the utility belt and his pants to take his cock out. When he does, you just admire how achingly beautiful and thick it is, hard and throbbing at the thought of you. He holds your head still and slides it in your mouth, slowly, tasting the sweet welcome of your velvety tongue massaging its tip, making him groan. He starts thrusting into your mouth slowly, to get to get it wet, and only then, he starts fucking your hole recklessly, thrusting into you violently, at an unbelievable rhythm, pushing it deep inside of your throat.

His moans of pleasure make your denied pussy clench hysterically. You wish he was fucking your pussy like this. When you feel he's getting closer to his orgasm, he pulls out, panting.

"That was close" he chuckles sadistically as he grabs his cock into his hand, squeezing a drop of precum out.

Hearing him chuckling, seeing him edging himself using your mouth it's too much, and you let out a whimper. He knows exactly what to do when he wants to punish you. You are so unbelievably aroused, you feel your slick running down your inner thighs and your legs start to shake.

He ignores your desperation and slides it back in your mouth, this time using you for his pleasure, as he stays still and pushes your head, gripping a handful of your hair in his hands. He gets on the edge of his orgasm once again, screaming loudly as he gets closer and closer to it, managing to pull it out before it's too late. His self control is so admirable, you don't know how he manages to get so close and then stop all of a sudden. It only makes you even more aroused, knowing he can control his body in such a flawless way.

"Fuck. Your mouth is too good. But I don't want to cum in there. I want to fuck you like you deserve. Little slut." his voice is now a guttural growl, sounding more and more depraved as he goes on edging himself.

"Please, please, do it, put it in my pussy, I need it so badly, please" you whimper as you stare at his glistening erection. Your whole body is shaking in desperation.

"Look at you. Crying begging for my cock. Do you want it in your little pussy?" He slaps your face with it, spreading all the saliva coating it all over your face.

"Yes! Yes pl-" he doesn't let you finish, he sticks it again in your mouth.

"I didn't hear you" he chuckles, taunting you and your desperation.

Hearing him having fun this way, teasing and treating you like an object, drives you mad, and you'd do anything to get his dick inside your throbbing cunt.

You just moan desperately as you can't articulate words.

He growls and takes it out. You're both panting.

"Say it. Beg for it like a good girl." he pulls your hair so you can look at him in his visor.

"I want you to fuck my pussy and fill it with your cum, please Mando please!" you beg him, looking at him with tears in your eyes, your face is glistening in saliva and precum. Knowing that he's the one who reduced you like this, a whimpering mess, begging for his cock on your knees, looking so adorable while doing it, drives him wild.

"Damn, you look incredible like this. Stars, you're stunning. Pretty girl, I can use you as much as I want." he whispers while sliding the tip of his cock on your lips.

"Yes - I'm yours. Use me as you please." you answer whispering to him.

He cups your face in his hand and lowers his head, his Beskar forehead on yours.

"Fuck. You're my obedient little girl. Now turn around and bend for me."

You obey and bend in front of him, arching your back, your face touches the ground and your ass is raised.

"Fuck - spread your legs. Let me see how wet you are"

You do and he hums in pleasure. He goes on his knees and widens your pussy and takes a good look at the arousal that is coating you, dripping down your inner thighs. He's entranced by that sight and sticks his thumb inside of you. You bite your lip to muffle the scream of pleasure coming from his touch.

"Screaming like this just for one finger? Damn, you're pathetic." he mocks you.

He takes his cock in his hand and starts teasing your entrance, allowing just the tip to go inside, then taking it out and having fun sliding on it to hear the wet sounds of your pussy and your cries. Your body is shaking, achingly needy, and he is loving it.

He puts it in slowly, to let you adjust to his size. He feels it clench it around him, you're pathetically close already, but he won't let you cum that fast.

He stops moving when he is completely inside of you. You're both panting as the stimulation provided by each other would make you both cum within seconds.

"Calm down pretty girl. We are just getting started." He caresses your back.

After a few deep breaths, he starts thrusting into you with violent, regular thrusts. The noise of his hips against your ass and your moans is all you can hear.

"That's what you fucking deserve. Fuck - Blowing me under the table like that, making me cum in your throat during a business meeting. Whore. You are my whore." he growls in between thrusts.

When you feel you're close to your orgasm and start screaming out of control, he takes it out, earning a loud scream of desperation and disappointment.

"No! Fuck! Put it back in, Mando! Make me cum! Make me cum! Please!" you're completely hysterical, crying, screaming and cursing at him, begging for release.

He chuckles, both amused and aroused at how desperate you are for his cock.

"Maker - listen to you" he starts stroking his wet cock in front of you as you look at him, shaking your pussy in desperate need of release.

"Hear that? Fuck, you made it so wet." he moans hard for you to listen "Look at how hard it is, and how it slides into my hand. Damn, you wish I was fucking your little pussy like this, don't you?"

"Yes. Please, please put it in and fuck me like that, please." you're on the verge of tears.

He puts the tip inside of your cunt and starts stroking it, teasing you once again.

"You know I could cum in your pretty pussy just like this? Could fill you up with my cum, leaving you unsatisfied, begging for me? Leaving you like that, handcuffed on the floor, with your cum dripping down your legs? F-fuck-" the thought of it makes him get dangerously close to his orgasm, so he stops jerking himself off.

"Don't" you cry "please, please, please I'm on my knees begging for you to fuck me" you cry loudly.

He grips your hips even tighter and gives one deep thrust, then stops. His whole body is shaking and he is panting.

Your greedy, needy cunt clenches around him, not wanting to let him go.

"Fuck" he pants "You want this cock so badly, I c-can feel it. You don't want me to stop fucking you, r-right?" he growls.

"Yeah" you whisper, completely subjugated by his thick cock throbbing inside of you. "Not ever. I'm yours. I'm your slave."

When he hears that, he starts jackhammering into you and he hits that perfect spot that makes your brain default, reducing you once again to a pathetic, screaming mess, begging him not to stop.

"I won't stop fucking you until you cum, pretty girl. C-can't ever get enough of you."

He digs his hands into your hips so hard it will give you bruises but you don't care. Your face is laying down on the cold steel floor of his ship, your eyes are rolling out of pleasure and your mouth is wide open, letting out wild screams. Mando slides one of his hands on your clit and starts rubbing it. The hot sensation of the orgasm is building up in your core, and you are getting tighter and tighter and you can feel and hear how much Mando is enjoying it. He is grunting and panting.

"Cum. Cum on my cock. Let me feel it." he growls.

And you do.

You let out desperate groans of pleasure, your whole body is shaking and your cunt is clamping around his cock in its desperate, rhythmic grip, a grip so strong that Mando chokes a groan and can't do nothing but cum and fill you with his hot seed. Fuck, you feel like you don't have control on your body anymore. You are shaking and drooling and screaming as the Mandalorian fucks you through your orgasms.

When he's done releasing, he doesn't take it out. He's completely out of breath and panting, but he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.

"Give me another one, mesh'la." His cock is still throbbing deep inside of you, as the feeling of oversensitivity leaves for a new wave of arousal. You are so spent, your body stays completely still, as his hand quickly gets you over the edge once again.

"Yes. Yes. Cum on the cold floor of my ship like the little slut that you are." he is so pleased to know he pulled another orgasm from you so quickly, hearing you moaning loudly, out of control, and feeling you clenching hard around his cock, still hard inside of you.

You are now completely debilitated, a hot mess on his ship's floor.

As he takes it out, his seed starts to drip down your inner thighs, while your pussy is still clenching in aftershock, your whole body is shaking, you're panting and your face is a wet mess of tears, sweat and saliva, your hair sticks to it.

He sits on the floor behind you, catching his breath, watching your wrecked cunt letting his seed drip down your legs, pleased at the way he reduced you.

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queen-rhaenyras · 4 months

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Rating Bg3 Ships with the origin companions

Warning: Opinions that may differ from your own. I rated the companions, now it's time to rate the ships.

#1 Lae'Zel/Shadowheart: I'm not into enemies to lovers that much, but I make exceptions for women. Love this ship so much. Also both realizing their goddesses are terrible ad helping each other through that. I love them. They are my fav bg3 ship. Like my lesbian heart can't handle how much I adore them.

#2 Shadowheart/Gale: I love this ship so much it hurts. I played Gale's origin to romance Shadowheart and it was beautiful. (Also the nerd and the goth girl? Adorable). They are perfect together in so many ways. I saw someone else say if Shadowheart was a man, people would love this ship because they compliment each other so well. They are everything people think Astarion/Gale are. Also they both have issues with their goddesses and can never really escape them. Only they can understand that and it would bring them so much closer. Also their cozy good endings in the epilogue! I can see them fitting in perfectly with each other's good ending.

#3 Wyll/Astarion: True foils. Monster/Monster hunter. I'm obsessed with this pairing. If Wyll was a white man, this would be the most popular m/m ship in bg3. Please repeat that last sentence slowly, because I can't say it enough. I don't even like Astarion as a character all that much, but I love this ship a lot. Also Astarion has a crush on Wyll. Why are we denying him his crush? Let's be so for real about this one.

#4 Wyll/Karlach: The fact that Wyll can go with Karlach in the end? Their return in the epilogue and how they speak of each other? It's so cute. I love them together. Another example of enemies to lovers that I actually enjoy because they don't hate each other. As soon as Wyll realizes she's not who he thought she was, they develop a mutual respect for each other. I love that dynamic so much.

#5 Shadowheart/Karlach: Shadowheart's comment about Karlach picking her up and carrying her over her shoulder to safety sold this ship for me. It's cute and f/f so you know I love it.

#6 Gale/Lae'Zel: Also have shared goddess issues. Gale learns Lae'Zel's language if you play his origin to romance her. I haven't done it yet, but omg that's so cute. He also calls her a term of endearment in her language? I'm going to have to play as Gale to romance her asap. Obsessed with the idea of these two together.

#7 Karlach/Astarion: This is a pretty popular ship and It's a popular ship I can get behind. I do like these two together and I think they compliment each other well.

#8 Lae'Zel/Karlach: I mean. It's f/f so I'm a little biased, but I can see the potential. I don't hate it at all. I saw someone who romanced them with each other and they said it was surprisingly sweet.

#9 Gale/Karlach: I can see how it's cute, but I just don't see them together romantically. I do love the idea of them being besties. Karlach's reaction if Orin takes Gale!? When she says, "MY wizard." and the way she wants to cheer him up after Elminster tells him about Mystra's plan for him is precious. So I understand if someone ships them. Maybe if I romance one of them with the other I'll change my mind.

#10 Shadowheart/Wyll: I do not see any chemistry, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I don't mind this ship. It doesn't bother me at all and if there is anyone out there that ships it, good for you. Hope it brings you joy. It's definitely an unproblematic ship.

#11 Gale/Wyll: This is boring I'm sorry. I love both of these men so much, but together? Not so much. But I don't HATE it. It's just not my cup of tea. If you enjoy it though, that's perfectly fine. Like the above ship, it's unproblematic and I understand why someone would like it.

#12 Wyll/Lae'Zel, Lae'Zel/Astarion, Shadowheart/Astarion: Meh. I don't hate them, but I don't love them. I don't really have an opinion about them to be honest which is why I threw them all together.

#13 Gale/Astarion: My most controversial opinion yet because this is such a popular ship. But these two feel so FORCED. If they weren't two white men, they wouldn't be as popular. Let these two dislike each other for the sake of disliking each other. Astarion's dislike of Gale is not cute and it's not enemies to lovers. Also Astarion's reaction when Gale is taken by Orin gives me the ick. He's awful to him. I don't want him touching my favorite wizard with a ten foot pole. Gale deserves way better. Also I relate to Gale more than any other character, and Astarion irritates me as a character and I low-key feel like Astarion would irritate Gale too. In fact, I'm pretty sure he does. I had Gale kick Astarion out of camp after he tried to bite him during my Gale origin run and it was so on brand for Gale. It just felt right. Sorry if you ship this. This is not me saying people shouldn't ship it. Ship what you want if it brings you joy. But I wish people would stop acting like these two are MADE for each other, because that is such a red flag to me.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #shadowheart #gale dekarios #karlach #wyll ravengard #astarion #lae'zel #bg3 ships

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

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heyyyy idk if you take requests but if you do, can i request something with Ghost and Soap and female reader? she’s never done anything with either of them and then one time they get shipped off all three of them over seas and something spicy happens?:::)))) rolling my chair into oblivion byeeeee

THIS IS SO SEXYYYYY. Ugh.

Simon Says

Simon “Ghost” Riley x John “Soap” McTavish x Female Reader

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Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Mentions of reader’s hair, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, hair pulling, choking, spitting, slapping (just one tiny face tap), bisexuality, polyamory, threesome activities, sub/dom dynamics, brief male masturbation, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, anal sex, m|m and f|m sex

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A/N: Omg, this is the first time I've EVER written m|m sex, and the first time I've EVER written a threesome. I can't handle it. Anon, thank you for this.

Alsssooooo, we have some Scottish Gaelic in here for Soap! AAHHH I’m loving it. The translations are in parenthesis after the words are used, of course <3

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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To say you’re out of your element here would be an understatement. Oftentimes, traveling out of the country was a breeze for you. Things weren’t all that different, give or take. But going overseas was an entirely different thing. Comparing Brazil to London? There wasn’t anything you could lean on for comfort here; nothing reminded you of home. Except for them.

After joining the force, you found yourself gravitating toward the two of them. After all, Simon grew up in the same area as you. It’s not like the two of you ever met before finding each other here, but knowing he’s tied to your home somehow ties him to you. And Johnny, his parents live just down the road from your grandparent’s home. How the two of you never met before this is beyond you. Regardless, you’re thankful to know them now. It’s like one way or another, you were meant to find each other.

But for some reason, you can’t find them right now. Simon and Johnny were always close, so much so that you were shocked they welcomed you into their friendship so quickly. Usually though, the three of you convened after a mission. Whether it was in the barracks at the base or a break room in the safe house, you always relaxed afterward together. So, where are they now?

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

“Oh, sorry Cap.” Immediately, you straighten a bit, addressing Price as he appears off to your right. “Just um, checking out the new base… I guess.”

“New,” He chuckles, reminding you, “Won’t be new for much longer. We’ve got a week.”

All you do is smile, giving him a curt nod. “Sir.”

Price has always been easy to avoid. Just straighten your back and say what he wants to hear, and he’ll be out of your hair. Which is just what happens. Right after your response, he’s nodding, turning to walk out of sight.

Relaxing your posture, you trudge on, stepping quietly down the long and empty halls. The makeshift barracks are empty, most of the team taking a break in the kitchen. Which is what originally led your search. But now, a sound seems to direct your steps.

“Quiet, now.”

“Simon?” Whispering, you furrow your brows, taking a step toward a side door.

Bewildered, you press your hand to the knob, inching the door open to peer inside. It seems to be a storage room of sorts, a small warehouse, almost. The lights are off, but you can still see the shelves stacked high with boxes and files. You wonder what they’re for. But all too quickly, they become the last thing on your mind.

In the dim light of the room, just barely, you can make out the figures of the men you’d been searching for. Both tall, much taller than you, and bulky, too. But it’s clear that one is much bigger than the other, and wearing a mask. Simon.

“Simon?” Walking in, you push the door open further, calling out for him “Oh.”

Stopping in your tracks, your jaw drops, not meeting Simon’s eyes but Johnny’s. Deep blue with his irises blown wide, half of his face covered by Ghost’s skull. But then, they’re fluttering shut, a heated breath shoving its way out of his chest. A moan.

“S-Simon,”

“Yeah,” He groans, but he doesn’t let go. “I see her, Johnny.”

He’s pushed Soap up against the wall, one hand on his throat to keep him steady. And you’ve never seen him handle Johnny like that but that’s not the shocking part. What’s shocking is the sight of Ghost’s free hand palming the captain’s crotch. And even though he’s acknowledged your appearance, he hasn’t stopped.

Turning, Ghost glances over his shoulder at you, addressing you by name. “How’re you?” He asks, completely nonchalant.

“I, um…” Releasing a flustered chuckle, you sigh, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Was… looking for you. Both of you.”

“Figured you would,” He returns in that gruff voice, unapologetically turning back to his companion. “Didn’t think you’d find us, though.”

His mask is pulled up above his mouth, nothing you haven’t before seen. But now, his bare mouth is on Johnny’s, kissing him sloppily. Your face burns at the sight, a small gasp slipping from your lips. You expected him to stop, to move away and maybe say something. Not do… that.

“Simon,” Soap moans again, shaky hand reaching for his hip. He’s overwhelmed, very clearly.

“You, you didn’t want me to? To find you?” The entire situation is making you feel antsy and embarrassed but above it all, you’re hurt by Simon’s words. You always find each other after a mission.

By now, Soap’s hands are on Simon’s neck and waist, pulling him further in. They’re both in plain jeans, Soap in a short black sleeve and Ghost in that sexy ass light-gray fleece. And if you were being honest, you’ve always thought about them this way. Just because they were your friends didn’t mean they weren’t hot. But never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined them like this.

Now, Ghost does stop, laughing at your words. “Sure we did.” Smacking his lips, he lowers his head, finding Johnny’s neck. “We love your company.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s much help right now…” Backing away, your body finally catches up with your brain.

“You never know.” Comes his immediate response, rutting his hips into Johnny’s. Jesus, he’s so brazen. Every little movement is catching you offgaurd, making you stumble and stutter. “What d’you think, Johnny? Huh?”

“Oh,” And you’ve never seen Soap so submissive.

“Think she’d wanna join in?”

At that, your eyes widen. Everything in your body is on fire from seeing them like this. You never expected it, in general, and you definitely never expected to like it. Nibbling on your lower lip, you shift your stance, rubbing your thighs against each other a bit.

“C-Close the door,” Soap suddenly begs, motioning towards it. “No one,” He gulps, feeling Ghost’s lips suction to his neck. “No one needs to see. Other than you.”

“Johnny?” You question, not understanding his wording.

“He wants you here.” Ghost answers for him, squeezing his throat a little harder. And then, Simon’s eyes are flashing toward you. “And so do I.”

“Would you?” Johnny then asks, whimpering helplessly when Ghost shifts his hips over his again.

Glancing down, your eyes follow Soap’s gesture, his now outstretched arm. He’s reaching for you. It’s only then that the moment begins to feel… soft. Inviting, even.

“Really?” You’re already stepping toward them, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. He’s calling out to you, he wants you.

“Yes.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, the hand intertwined with yours leaves, lifting to cup your face and bring you in.

“Johnny…” He brings you close to his face, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. “I, I never knew…”

“That we did this?” Ghost finishes for you, huffing out a short laugh. “No one does.”

“No one should.” That Scottish accent adds, returning your eyes to him. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Even though you’re less than a hair’s breadth away from his lips, you’re surprised he asked. He’s never asked. Nothing sexual has ever happened between you and them.

“We’ve thought about this, love.” Simon chimes in, still marking Soap’s neck while he groans. “Thought about you.”

You’re not sure what to do, not at all, but you know one thing for certain - you’re glad Simon is taking the lead.

“You wanna be here with us, hm?” Now, he’s removed himself from Soap’s neck, addressing you directly. “You want us like I want him? Like he wants me?”

His words force your heart to lurch into your throat, the pound of your pulse deafening in your ears. Has he noticed? Have they both? Have they seen the way you stare? The way your irises widen, the way you swallow when you see them shirtless? The way your body eases into them when you’re given a hug, the way you react to their touch?

“A simple yes or no.” Ghost reminds you, pulling you back to the present. “It won’t affect us, love, the three of us. We’ll always be mates, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nods, looking from Ghost and then to you. His hand is still on your face, thumb swiping gently over the apple of your cheek. He finds you so breathtakingly beautiful. They both do.

The fact that they’re reassuring you of this shows you just how much they care, just how deeply they trust you. They’ve been your best friends for months now, you’ve been able to count on them for anything. Emotionally and physically, they’ve always been there, always had your back. And you’ve had theirs, but… not to this extent. Maybe now is the time to change that.

“I, I do.” Nodding, you lick your lips nervously before swallowing. “I…”

Gently, Johnny’s hand guides you back toward his face, angling himself downward slightly so he can connect with you. And Ghost stays perfectly still while he does it, wanting to watch your first embrace.

Leaning into his hold, you meet him halfway, just barely lifting yourself onto your tippy toes. Your hands feel awkward at your sides, so you reach out toward your captain. Immediately, though, Simon is catching your right hand and holding it tightly as he watches your lips connect.

As soon as your lips meet, Johnny’s moaning against you, hand curling around to hold the back of your head. And you all but melt into him, the hand not being held by Ghost securing to Johnny’s hip.

“Oh…” Simon sighs, leaning back in to mouth at Soap’s neck. “That’s it, pet.”

Just like that, the gradual roll of Ghost’s hips picks up again, each of your mouths paying attention to Johnny. With his hand on your neck, he guides the kiss, leaning in as he mouths at your lips.

“S-Shit,” He’s stuttering, feeling Simon’s full erection weighing heavy against the fabric of his jeans. You take this opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth, grinning at the noise it drags out of him.

“I need more, Johnny.” Simon begs, that gruff voice sending a shiver down your spine.

A small, metallic noise draws your attention away from him, glancing down and witnessing the quick movements of Ghost’s hand. He’s undoing Soap’s belt, and in record time, might you add. Before you can even blink, he’s reaching in and freeing Johnny from the confines of his pants.

“That’s better.” He sighs, fisting Soap’s length and giving long, slow pumps, all the way down to the base.

“Fuck me.” Johnny’s head drops back, eyes shutting as he relishes in the feeling.

At first, you don’t know what to say, what to even think. Thoughts jumble through your mind, feeling both shocked and flustered and excited. He’s so much bigger than you expected; he’s cut and slightly curved, and neatly trimmed, too.

“Johnny…” It comes out as an airy breath, your own hand now reaching for him.

Timidly, your fingertips dance along his scrotum, and Ghost smiles at this.

“Why don’t you take over, love?” Glancing up, you lock eyes with him as he says, “Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s a good pet…” Simon responds, almost immediately. And it mesmerizes you.

Releasing Soap of his hold, Ghost’s hand finds the back of your head, hurriedly bringing you into him. Smashing his lips to yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, your soft moan echoing in the back of Ghost’s throat.

“Fuck,” Lifting his head, Soap stares at the sight in front of him. He chokes slightly when he feels your hand replace Simon’s, gripping him firmly while giving him the same languid strokes.

“I am loving this,” He expresses, licking his lower lip. “Kiss him like you did me… that’s right…”

While you’re shoving your tongue into Ghost’s mouth, feeling his thick fingers curl into your hair, Johnny leans in to kiss your face. It’s like he can’t help himself. It’s hurried and frenzied, his lips moving across your cheek and jaw.

“Johnny,” He suddenly barks, ripping himself away from you. “Get on your knees for me.”

Staring into Soap’s eyes, the captain does what he’s told, the two of you watching as Ghost leans back to undo his belt.

Internally, you’re screaming. This is all moving so quickly, but you have absolutely no reservations when it comes to this. None, none at all.

With Johnny’s movement, you’re forced to let go of him, watching as he shuffles back against the wall. Without either one of them saying another word, Ghost is guiding his cock into Soap’s waiting mouth. Instantly, his lips form a breathless smile, feeling the wetness of Johnny’s tongue slide over his tip.

“Take it.” He mumbles, their eyes locked as Soap does just that.

Shifting his hips forward, Simon releases a breathy chuckle, giving his companion’s mouth an array of shallow thrusts. And then he’s glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye, jerking his head to the side.

“Get over here, princess.”

Jesus, you thought he’d never ask.

It’s astonishing just how easy it is for this to happen, for you to follow his instructions. Because you do. Obeying his word, you kneel beside the captain, knees feeling like jelly as you move. Your entire body is nearly numb from excitement, and they’ve barely even touched you.

Eyes widened, you stay on your knees beside your comrade, swallowing your nerves. “How… how many times have you…”

“More times than I can count.” Simon grunts, fingers curling into the stripe of hair at the top of Soap’s head. “You feel like givin’ it a go?” He then asks, smirking when your pretty eyes flicker up to his.

“Yes.” It’s small and quiet, the word as it comes out. And Simon is happy with it.

Pulling away from Soap’s mouth, they each release a harsh grunt. When Simon reaches for you, he’s much kinder. He doesn’t tangle his fingers into your hair just yet, he doesn’t know how much you can take.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Simon coos, his voice so soft and loving. Johnny remembers when he was first like that, before they got comfortable with each other. Comfortable enough to be rough.

“That’s it…” That sweet voice is in your ear the entire time his attention is on you, his hand guiding you closer to him.

With doe-like eyes, Soap watches you take in Simon’s cock just an inch away from his face. Your lips open just enough to envelope his uncut tip, tongue sliding beneath the girth of him. He’s bigger than Johnny, much bigger, and not so well-trimmed. In fact, he has a bush at his base.

“Yeah, just like that.” Nodding slowly, both of Ghost’s hands find your face, pulling you gently onto him.

Leaning with his movements, you soon find your mouth stuffed of him, his low moans echoing throughout the quiet space. Again, Johnny can’t help himself. Moving forward, he presses his cheek to yours, leaning down to run his tongue over Simon’s balls. And collectively, you moan, your sound vibrating through the lieutenant's cock.

“Fuckin’ hell Johnny,” Simon grunts, briefly baring his teeth at the feeling. “Oh, love…” Naturally, and without instruction, you move your mouth along the length of him, sucking slowly, tenderly. “That’s so good, princess…”

He doesn’t even have to move his hips, not when both of your mouths are on him like this. Right now, all of his focus is going into keeping his legs sturdy, keeping himself standing.

“And you know what you are, Johnny?”

With his own mouth full, all he can mumble is, “Hm?” And you don’t know it yet, but he’s asking for Simon’s attention, begging for his praise.

With those blue eyes lifting, searching for Simon’s dark gaze, he whines when his partner says, “You’re a good boy.”

Even though the praise isn’t directed at you, you whine all the same. And Soap does, too, sucking more of Simon’s tender flesh between his lips while he sighs.

“I quite like the idea of this,” Simon chuckles breathily, unable to tear his gaze away from sight beneath him. “Havin’ myself two pets.”

And you have to admit, you like the sound of that, too.

Reaching up, your hands find the thick meat of Simon’s thighs, massaging and clawing them as you continue to take him. Willingly, you urge him down your throat, your quick and airy breaths making you feel all fuzzy. Limply, you lean on Johnny, his sturdy body offering you a hint of support.

“Look at you, takin’ me all the way.” It actually impresses Simon. It took Soap a while to work up to that. “You’re just full of surprises.”

With one hand, he strokes Johnny’s head, the fingers of his other combing through your hair. His pretty pets.

Swiping his tongue hungrily across Simon’s scrotum, Soap’s tongue occasionally dances across your lips, and he savors it. He even dedicates a moment to running his tongue along the edges of your mouth while it’s still full of Simon’s dick.

“Ugh,” Simon suddenly expresses, a thick groan escaping him. “Jesus, Johnny.”

“Sir?” Johnny returns, his voice timid and light. And more than ever before, it sets your body alight. You’ve never heard him speak this way.

“Up here,” Simon demands, chest rising and falling quickly. “On your feet with me.”

Whimpering quietly, you watch him stand. You liked having his company.

With firm movements, Simon spins his partner around. “Put your hands on the wall.” And even though he just gave him a command, he helps him do it. With his hands on Johnny’s wrists, he places them on the sturdy concrete in front of him, sighing happily once he’s done it. “Yeah… that’s right.”

And while he’s talking to Johnny, you’re still on your knees, mouth endlessly pleasuring him. Before either of you can even take a moment to think, Ghost’s hand is on Johnny’s jaw, forcing him to look down at you.

“What d’you think about fuckin’ her mouth, Johnny?” Now, he starts to move his hips, thrusting himself down your throat at a much harsher pace.

Unexpectedly, you whine, nodding beneath the two men. And Soap’s eyes go wide when he sees this. Removing yourself from Simon, you sigh, trying to regain some semblance of your composure. While watching you shuffle before him, placing yourself perfectly between his legs, Soap nods. It’s like he can’t bring himself to look away, like he can’t comprehend the acts you’re all performing.

“Beautiful…” Soap murmurs, reaching down to cup your jaw gently. Sliding his thumb over your bottom lip, he watches them part so he can slide it in. “That’s beautiful, lass.”

Slowly, Simon retracts his hips, pulling himself out of your mouth. The sound produced from the act is wet, almost sticky.

“She’s lubed it up quite nicely for you.” Ghost whispers into his ear, kissing the lobe. Shifting his feet, he positions himself behind Johnny, hands holding firm on his hips.

Lowering one hand, he slides it down to Soap’s ass, fingers prying at the muscular flesh. With one finger, he teases Johnny’s hole, rubbing and just barely poking it. And the whimper that comes from Johnny is euphoric, feeling your mouth wrap around him while Simon plays with his ass.

Leaning back, you ask, “Is this alright?”

Your question prompts his attention to return to you, all while feeling Simon slide a finger into him from behind. Nodding, Soap swallows thickly, entranced by the sight of his cock resting on your soft lips.

“That’s more than alright.” He answers, one hand falling to the back of your head. “That’s just… that’s so good.” And then he’s giving you one, firm nod. “Do it again.”

While holding his gaze, you slide the length of him over your tongue until he’s entirely in your mouth. Sitting still for a moment, you hollow your cheeks, sucking on him.

“Oh…”

“You ready for me?” Ghost then asks, one hand coming up to hold his throat, just like before.

“Fuck…”

Pumping his finger in a handful of times, Simon adds another, stretching the tight ring of muscles he’s become far too familiar with. The hand not on the back of your head lays palm-flat against the wall, Johnny leaning in to press his forehead to the cool concrete.

He’s taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “Yeah.”

Moving in sync with Simon, you slide Johnny into your throat in the same motion as the lieutenant slides between his partner’s cheeks. And it makes him fucking choke. Already, Soap’s legs are shaking, and the gentle scratch of your nails down his thighs isn’t helping.

“How’s she feel, Johnny?” Ghost is kissing Soap’s neck, his small whimpers and moans making Simon throb.

Pulling himself back, Simon returns to the warm confines of his friend, building a gradual pace. And you do the same, attempting to match it. Only a few thrusts in, and Soap is an absolute mess, moaning freely with his lips parted, eyes furrowed shut as he takes it. From the sensation of it all, he’s barely even able to thrust into your mouth. But that’s alright, Simon’s thrusts are so heady that they do most of the work, repeatedly sliding Soap down your throat.

Angrily, Simon snaps his hips against Johnny’s ass, grinding in deep. And it forces an almost painful cry from the captain. “I asked you a question, love.”

Simon was always a dominant man; with his size and demeanor, how could he not be? But seeing him in this situation has that notion growing tenfold. He’s clearly the one in charge, the one who calls the shots between the two of them. And you wish so badly to be beneath him.

The grip Ghost has on Johnny’s throat tightens, his hips picking up their pace. His pelvis slaps against the meat of Soap’s backside, forcing him deeper into your mouth every time. Reaching out, your hands slide over Johnny’s thighs. Curling around, they find the flexing muscles of Simon’s backside, scratching into the surface before you squeeze.

“S-So,” He’s trembling, stuttering, eyes opening to stare down at you. Your lips are gliding so smoothly along his shaft, your throat sucking him down with every thrust. “So good.”

“Yeah?” Ghost grins, hearing his lover’s shaky voice. “She felt pretty good around me, too.”

Ghost’s indirect praise makes you moan, the vibrations shivering through Soap’s cock and hips.

“F-Fuck me, I’m gonna - Simon.” Soap is whining and groaning, reaching around to hold the back of Ghost’s head while he sucks on the side of his neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

“No you’re not.” He replies nonchalantly, pulling out of his comrade with a groan. And it successfully cuts off Johnny’s high.

He whimpers quietly, almost pathetically, from the loss, dropping his head down. But Ghost presses his back to Soap, leaning down to place his chin on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Look at me,” But Soap almost can’t, because you’ve hollowed your cheeks and are drooling down his shaft. “I said look at me.” With the force of his hand, Simon makes Johnny turn to look him in the eyes.

“You can cum after I fuck our new play thing.” Without looking down, Simon drops a hand, running his fingers through your hair as he says it. An affectionate, possessive, gesture.

“Alright?” Reaching down, he uses his dominant hand to gently cup Soap’s balls. It makes his body jolt, a helpless mewl slipping from his mouth.

And then Simon’s looking down at you, giving you a nod. “Hey, gorgeous.” He calls, the hand on Soap’s balls reaching out to give your cheek a soft little smack. “Your turn. Eyes up here.”

Immediately, your eyes are on him, your mouth still stuffed full.

“You want me to fuck you? Huh? Wanna know what it feels like?”

“Mhm,” Nodding rapidly, you slide your tongue along the underside of Johnny’s cock, listening to his airy moan.

“Then,” Ghost says, deep voice rumbling as his fingers tighten in your air. “Get off.”

Pulling your head in the opposite direction while pulling Johnny back forces you to let him go, both of them watching as you pant and gasp.

“You liked that?” Tilting his head, Simon grins.

Huffing out an array of heavy breaths, you nod. “Yes.”

“Ah,” Simon tuts happily, reaching down to your pretty face. “That’s a good girl.”

“Oh,”

“You like that too, huh?”

“Yes, Simon.”

“Why don’t you lay down for me then? And show me how good you can be.”

He’s never spoken to you like this before, and why would he? But after tonight, you’re hoping he does again. And again, and again.

Leaning back, you find yourself scrambling onto your backside and palms, shifting down to the ground. You don’t even care that it’s dusty and who knows what could have trudged through here. It’s worth it when Simon says, “I love how well you listen to me.”

“Baby,” It comes out before you can stop it, before you can even realize it. And it’s said as Simon is crouching down, moving to cover your body with his own.

You’re reaching for him, and it’s so easy to see just how captivated you are by him. “You’ve thought of me.” He states, grinning.

Situating himself over your body, you can hear Johnny’s pants beside you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend down, but right now, all you’re focusing on is him. Ghost.

“Yes.” Hands finding either side of his face, you bring him in, and he doesn’t reject it.

Passionately, his mouth meets your own, lips just barely colliding before your tongues do. He licks into you, one hand wiggling beneath the back of your head so he can hold you.

“I want you.” Simon growls against your lips, both his breath and pulse quickening. “I want you, pet.”

“I want you.” Your body curls upwards toward him, feeling an undeniable pull. Diving in, you slide your tongue across his, listening to his harsh and heated moan.

“Johnny,” Ghost mumbles against your lips. “Get over here.” And just like that, he’s at Simon’s side.

“You always do what he says?” You tease, grinning. And Soap fucking blushes.

“Whatever Simon says.” He responds, looking deeply into his partner’s eyes. And that fills Ghost’s heart with pride.

“Whatever Simon says…” You repeat, staring up at him, too.

Lifting your hands, your fingers find the edge of his fleece, pulling impatiently on him. Chuckling, he glances down at you, licking his lower lip before speaking to Johnny.

“Want you on top of her.” He says, eyes now entirely on you. “Come fuck that pretty face.”

“Oh, fuck yes.”

Instantly, he’s climbing over you, positioning his pelvis directly above your face. Indirectly, he shoves his ass into Simon’s, but it’s not like he minds. Bending forward, he sinks his teeth into the thick muscle of Soap’s upper thigh, sucking a mark onto his skin.

“There you go, Johnny.” Reaching forward, Ghost lays a hand over Soap’s back, guiding him further down. “Bend over… just like that.”

Still hanging heavy between his legs, you take Soap back into your mouth, tongue reaching for his tip. Once it’s past your lips, you suck gently on it, prompting a flurry of small hip movements from the captain. His palms are flat on the ground on either side of your head, and while you’re entirely caught up in Johnny’s attention, Ghost is tearing it away all too soon.

Broad hands find your calves, sliding up to find the waistband of your pants. He takes his time in undressing you, and finds himself wishing the three of you were elsewhere, somewhere you could be naked completely. Somewhere you could give all of yourself to him.

“Fucking - ngh, you suck it so good.” Johnny’s sweating and babbling nonsense, thrusting into your mouth at a much different pace than before. It’s quicker, shallower, and you know he has to be close. “Keep doin’ that. Oh, Christ, keep sliding your tongue around.”

You’re so distracted by Johnny that you barely even register when Ghost slides your pants off. In one swipe, your panties are gone, too, leaving you exposed to him. Instinctually, you spread your legs wider, welcoming him in.

Glancing up, Ghost finds himself throbbing at the sight of Soap’s flexing ass as he continually ruts into your mouth. With one hand, he’s pawing at his cheek, giving it a firm smack that makes Johnny’s hips stutter.

“How about I fuck your ass, sweetheart?” Ghost asks, voice low and seductive. “I don’t have a condom with me right now…” Broad hands find your outer thighs, caressing you. “Maybe next time I can feel your sweet little pussy…”

It comes as a shock, a jolt to your system, when he slides a finger down the seam of your sex. You want so desperately to moan, but with the way Johnny’s filling your throat right now, you can’t. But Johnny sees your reaction, he sees how your eyes roll back.

“Oh, she likes that, L’t.”

“Does she?” Simon counters, giving your inner thigh a small smack. The motion sends a tingle through your body, your lungs attempting to fill with staggering gulps of air.

Leaning back on his heels, Ghost’s hands spread your cheeks, eyes closely inspecting you. “Has anyone else ever been here, love? Anyone else ever fucked your ass?”

When all he’s met with are sloppy gurgles, he gives Soap’s backside a light slap. “Back up, Johnny. Lemme hear her talk.”

“No,” It comes out as a gasped groan, the only word you can get out before Soap is diving back in.

“Oh…” Simon sighs, eyes returning to your fluttering holes. “I like firsts.”

Listening closely, you can just barely make out the sound of suction, the sound of Simon’s finger in his own mouth.

“I’ll be gentle, pet.” He promises, damp finger now prodding at your tight ring. “I’ll make it good…” Releasing a low, muted sigh, he then promises in a whisper, “I’ll make it so good you can’t even breathe.”

You have no doubt that he’ll fulfill that promise, but if you’re being honest, you’re already feeling that way. Taking Soap down your throat is no easy task, and coupling that with Simon’s hands on your body is making you see fucking stars.

Using his left hand, he makes sure to keep his dominant one clean. Once you’ve taken his entire pointer finger, his right hand finds its way to your sex, rubbing you tenderly. And the passionate moan you release gives him all the consent he needs.

Leaning in, he spits forcefully onto your fluttering lips, sliding his first two fingers through it. He uses the wetness of it to rub your clit, circling it slowly, gently, the stimulation allowing you to take in another one of his digits.

“Look at that… opening up so nicely, aren’t we?”

Your hands have been sliding around Johnny’s thighs, fingers curling as you hold onto him. Nodding, you’re able to manage a moan before he’s plunging back in.

“Think she can take three?”

“I know she can.” Johnny responds instantly.

Spitting again, Simon watches his saliva drip down your sex, sliding over the two fingers he’s stuffed into your ass. Retracting them halfway, he allows the wentess to coat his digits before returning them to your warmth, pumping them into you at a slightly quicker rate.

“Simon,” Gasping, you push Johnny’s hips away from your face. “Please.”

“Please, what?” He’s furrowing his brows, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

“I just, I want to feel you.” Swallowing heavily, you beg, “Please just fuck me. Please.”

While he’s out of your mouth, Johnny uses a spare hand to jerk himself off, keeping his eyes on you. “Fuck,” Lifting the other, he uses it to palm at your covered chest. “Wish we could see your tits right now, babe.”

“Maybe we’ll get to.” Simon suggests, removing his fingers from your ass. Leaning forward, he holds his palm out to Johnny, nonverbally asking for his spit. Which he gives.

“Oh my god,” Groaning, you do your best to catch your breath while the boys interact. “I love this.”

“You and me both.” Johnny returns, moving a hand to your head to hold you steady. Slowly, he glides over your tongue, bottoming out in your mouth once again. “She takes it so well…”

“I know she does.”

Situating himself between your legs, Simon holds the thickness of his shaft in one hand, rubbing the tip over your tightest entrance. His dominant hand hasn’t left your clit, his fingers rubbing sensual and sloppy circles over it.

“This might hurt a pinch, love.”

All you do is lift your hips toward him, running your tongue along Soap’s tip. But he’s right, it does hurt. The slight sting of his bulbous tip entering you is… different, entirely new. The continuous stimulation on the peak of your sex helps, though. That along with Johnny as a distraction.

When Ghost is halfway in, he prompts Johnny to take a break, allowing you a breath. Rubbing your thighs, that breathy voice asks you, “How’s that, princess?”

“A lot.”

Now, Soap is answering. “I know.” His hands find your face, cupping and stroking you softly. “It’s so much, isn’t it, lass?”

“Yes.” While he’s speaking to you, Simon continues sliding in.

Sighing, Soap swipes his thumb gently over your cheek. “Sweet cailin…” (Girl)

“Mm,” You whine sharply at the feeling of Simon bottoming out inside you, his thighs resting flush against your cheeks. His free hand is on your hip, holding you steady with his thumbs swiping over your skin.

“There we go,” Shuffling closer, he grinds into you, holding you tightly against him. “Oh, Christ…”

Pulsing his fingers upward, he finds your g-spot, caressing it firmly. And the moan it tears from your chest sounds ungodly, Soap quick to cut it short with his cock.

Steadily, they pump themselves into you, Simon’s fingers working just as hard, too. His thumb just barely flicks the nub of your clit while his hips shift right up against you. And even though he’s going relatively slow, the groans coming from him are guttural and deep, heavy grunts alongside every push and shove of his fingers and length. With every passing second, he’s growing more ravenous, more insatiable. The slick of your cunt drips down onto his length as it repeatedly dives into the space between your cheeks, aiding in his smooth slides.

“Fuck, you’re so tight back here…” Already sweating, he feels his muscles shake, wanting to have more of you and Johnny but not knowing how to do it. “Would love to warm you up. Stretch you out. Oh…” Leaning forward, Ghost presses his forehead to his lover’s back, giving his skin a sweet kiss. “Would you let me do that, sweetheart? Would you let me do this again?”

Again, a muffled noise is all you can muster around Soap’s length. But he knows you want it, they both know you’ll want this again.

Johnny’s motions directly contradict that of his bigger, stronger lover’s. He’s giving your mouth tender and sensual thrusts, sliding all the way in until the head is prodding at the back of your throat. He’s rolling his hips against your face, staring down at the striking image of you.

“Simon, please.” That thick, Scottish accent begs. He’s so close, he can feel himself throbbing. “Please…”

Leaning forward, Simon whispers into his ear, “Give her face a proper fuck, and I’ll let you cum.”

Immediately, Soap’s fingers find your hair, using the strands as leverage to hold your head down. His hips slap down against your face, choking you with his cock. He’ll always do what Simon says.

And that’s when Simon releases a breathy laugh, shaking his head with a mix of proud disbelief. “Cum in her mouth, Johnny.” He then says, “Go ahead.”

Simon watches and feels Soap’s body as it shakes, his cum and your spit pooling out of the corners of your mouth as you do your best to take it. It’s instantaneous, his high coming on as soon as Simon allowed it. And it makes you wonder once again how long they’ve been doing this.

Soap’s body shivers above you, doing his best to hold himself up. His palms are pressing into the floor, the muscles in his stomach and chest tightening. Erratically, his hips jerk against your face, the melody of moans floating from his mouth absolute heaven to both yours and Simon’s ears.

You’re gurgling on it, choking slightly from the amount. They’re both watching you, watching the white remnants slide down your cheeks.

“Look at that…”

“Swallow it.” Soap’s first real demand of the night.

There’s a strange order to this, to the interactions between the three of you. It’s unspoken, very clearly, but it’s there, hanging so heavily in the air you can practically feel it. Simon is above Johnny, and definitely above you. It’s in his nature to be like this, to be dominant. It’s obvious. And when Johnny’s with Ghost, he’s very clearly submissive. And now, with you in the mix, you find yourself falling into place quite nicely. Because what’s even more obvious than Simon’s dominance, is your submissiveness.

You’re unable to gather the stickiness dripping down the corners of your mouth, but what you can swallow, you do. Your compliance earns you a proud grin from your captain, his hand returning to stroke your face lovingly. He’s so goddamn sweet.

“Go rest, Johnny.” Kissing his shoulder, Simon speaks gently, urging him to relax. But before he does that, he’s letting his softening erection rest on your lips, watching you smile kindly as you stick your tongue out to lick him.

“Caileag ghrinn…” (Lovely girl)

Ghost had stopped his movements, wanting to witness his partner’s high. But as soon as Johnny’s gone, he’s focusing on you. The way he sees it, the way he hopes for it to be, is that you’re his new partner. You’re making their duo and trio. And he wants to welcome you fully, wants you to know how you’ll be treated when you’re with them. Simon could be rough but he could also be sweet. Above all, he just wants to take care of you, to make you happy.

“C’mere, love.” Enthralled by you entirely, Simon moves over you. And he can’t get to you quick enough.

In the blink of an eye, his mouth returns, one hand lifting to hold the hinge of your jaw. Now, he goes back to his previous movements, thrusting himself into your ass while his fingers continue to slide in and out of your sex.

“Simon,” Your hands are holding his head, keeping him close to you.

“I know,” He breathes, voice thick and gruff. “I’m here.” And his words do wonders to reassure you.

Kissing him vigorously, you release a wanton moan at the sensation of his tongue dragging across your own. The force and pitch of Simon’s groan surprises you; he already loves the taste of Soap on your tongue.

Watching from the side, Johnny catches his breath, witnessing the intimate act between you and Ghost. And the wonderful thing about it is he doesn’t feel jealousy; he’s happy, happy to see you collide and mesh with them. They’ve waited for this.

“I’m, I…” You’re shaking, trembling in his hold.

The thick bulge of Simon’s bicep curls beside your head as his hand lowers to hold the back of it. He knows you’re close, he knows that’s what you’re trying to tell him.

“I’ve got you, love.” Leaning in, he kisses your cheek, his heated breaths washing over your skin. “Gorgeous thing…”

By now, you’re rocking your hips into him, into his hand and hips. “I, I need, mmh…” Fuck, you can’t get your words out. “I need you.”

“I know, and I’m here.” Simon grunts out in response, hips hammering into you. “I’ve got you. You’re mine, understand? You’re mine and Johnny’s now.”

“Yes!” Your quiet wail makes him groan, shoving his face into the crook of your neck.

Unexpectedly, he bites down, feeling himself spill inside your tightest channel. And the foreign feeling urges you to crumble beneath him, to give in to the euphoria begging to burst from inside.

Suddenly demanding your attention is the soft persistence of Johnny’s lips, his hand forcing your face to the side so you can kiss him. And Simon allows it, welcomes it, resting his forehead on the back of Soap’s head. You can barely kiss him back as your body convulses beneath the weight of them, your new partners. It shivers through your limbs, shooting into your nerves and washing waves of pleasure through your hips and sex. And Simon’s is just as powerful, the muscles he’s built over the course of years flexing to their limit.

Staying inside for a beat, Ghost sighs, trying to gather himself. When Simon pulls out, he’s gentle and slow with it, mirroring the motions of his digits. He knew he’d lick them as soon as he could, and that’s exactly what he does.

“Oh… I want a better taste.”

“Let her rest.” Soap coos, brushing hair away from your forehead.

With kind efforts, Johnny pulls you into him, settling his back against the wall and urging you to straddle him. It’s easy, leaning on his body and accepting his soft kisses. He’s petting your hair, kissing you tenderly while Simon watches.

“You know…” Ghost grumbles, shuffling to sit behind you. Pressing his chest to your back, he lowers his head with a contented sigh, lips trailing over the skin of your shoulder and neck. “I could get used to this.”

#holy fucking shit #I really REALLYYY loved this #fuck #Call of Duty #Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 #COD #COD MW2 #Simon Riley COD #Simon Riley #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Ghost COD #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x female reader #John McTavish COD #John McTavish #John “Soap” McTavish #Soap COD #John McTavish x you #Johnny McTavish x female reader

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versegm · 1 year

Text

Ao3 tutorial: how to use the filters

So you caved in. You googled up [fandom] ao3, ended up on your fandom tag, started browsing fics, and whoa!

That's a fuckton of fics right here! How can you possibly find what you want in this mess?

Fear not! That's what the filter bar on the right is for. Let me walk you through it.

By default, you will see the latest updated fics first. You can change that here, however, and instead see the most read fics, or th emost kudoed fics, ect ect. Personally when I get in a new fandom I like to sort fics by bookmarks first to see what's most popular, but that's just me.

Ok here comes the actual filtering. As you can see, there are two main categories: Include and Exclude.

Anything you put in Include will be specifically kept. Ie: if I say "include F/F," ao3 will only return me fics tagged F/F.

Anything put in Exclude Will be specifically removed. Ie: if I say "exclude omegaverse" ao3 will only return to me fics that are not tagged omegaverse.

The filtering options are the same for both. Let's go through them one by one.

The rating is the audience the fic is meant for. I have gone into more details about it over here, but the tl;dr is that anything rated G or T is usually safe to read, while M, E, and Not Rated are where you will find adult content (be it porn or horror.)

The warnings are the major warnings ao3 require writers to fill prior to posting a fic. They are useful if you want to filter upsetting content, or if you are looking specifically for whump stuff.

The categories represent the kind of relationships found in fics.

Fandoms, Characters and relationships are heavily dependant on the fandom you're scrolling through, so I won't show them all here. By default, ao3 will show you the top ten character, relationship, and fandom tags in the tag you're currently browsing. If you have strong opinions (one way or another) on the fandom's most popular ship, this is where you'll get to look for and/or filter it.

If there is any tag you want to include or filter that wasn't in the top ten most popular tag, that's where you put them. You only want to see your rarepair? That's where it goes. You can't fucking stand time travel fics? Filter them here.

The crossover tab allows you to exclude crossovers, or see only crossovers, depending on what you want.

The completion tab is to focus on completed fics, or on the opposite to focus on wips.

The wordcount tab is to see fics solely inside a certain wordcount- ie, if you only want to read 50k monsters, or if you want bite-sized drabbles, this is where you go.

And finally, the language tab is where you pick what language you wanna read.

There you go! Happy reading!

#ao3 #ao3 tutorial #fanfic #fanfiction

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liam-neesons-best-girl · 1 month

Text

Qui-Gon Jinn NSFW Alphabet

Smut below the cut!

Warning: F! reader, 18+

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): Qui-Gon makes sure you have water on your bed side table and a towel to clean up. He usually offers to cuddle and plays with your hair until you fall asleep.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): His favorite part of himself is his hair. It took him a long time to achieve the length he has and considers it a sign of patience he learned in his Jedi training. He also loves when you wash and comb it for him.

His favorite part of you is your stomach or your hips. He loves the idea of holding onto you for dear life when you ride him or when he eats you out.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum): Qui-Gon will only cum after he knows you have, such a gentleman. If he does accidently cum earlier into your sessions he is all for making it up to you however you deem fit. *wink wink*

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): He likes it when you pull his hair. It excites him because of the switch in dominance and because it pulls his face up to look at yours.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): Qui-Gon is not overly experienced since he has dedicated most of his adult life to being a Jedi. However, he is a quick learner and wants to please you.

F = Favorite Position: cowgirl and missionary may be bland but he loves being able to look at you and watch your reactions to his movements.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.): In the moment he is quite serious, but every now and then the foreplay leads to a lamp being knocked over or accidently turning on his comm link. In those moments you can't help but laugh.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): He always has his hair done, whether that be half up/half down, a bun, or sometimes if he lets you; braids. Below the belt he is groomed but not bare. He embraces the natural look bestowed upon him by mother nature.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): Qui-Gon is so romantic it hurts. He will fill the room with candles, soft music, wine; the works. He also loves foreplay so he takes his time with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): He prefers you of course, but when he is off on long missions he uses it as a distraction or a reminder of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): breeding, spanking, role playing

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do): Ever the traditionalist, he likes to do it on a bed or some soft surface so he doesn't hurt his pillow princess. However, on the rare occasion when you say your farewells on his ship, y'all used the cockpit so whenever he navigates on that mission, he could picture you right there with him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Anything that would overtly hurt you or threesomes. He doesn't want to share you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): hair pulling, dirty talk, light saber foreplay

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): Loves to give, loves to receive. He loves the taste of you after a long mission. His tongue methodically swipes between your folds to elicit the most beautiful moan he has ever heard.

Giving him head is an out of body experience. Only about half of his member can fit in you at once. He is so encouraging and loves the velvety movement of your tongue.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Romantic and slow mostly. There will be times when you want to be railed and he will indulge that fantasy but he much rather savor the moment.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): Not a big fan. He likes to spoil you and cherish the time you have together since he's sent off on missions frequently.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): The only risk you face is someone catching you both, since Jedis are not supposed to take a lover. You have become quite stealthy when you sneak out to meet in botanical gardens or behind a row of speeders.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): He can go all night. Not one orgasm right after the other, but he can easily feel himself getting hard again when he sees you reach over him for a glass of water, pull your hair back, or begin kissing his chest.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): Qui-Gon doesn't like the idea. He is a too proud in some ways and likes to know he is the only one (or only thing) getting you off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): Qui-Gon has great patience, but you, not so much. He'll tease you with kisses all over your face but not on your lips. Or he'll kiss down your neck to your breasts, stomach and hip but halt at your pussy. He wants to see you squirm and beg him before he obliges.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): He's not a screamer per se, but he is vocal. He loves to be close to you and groan in your ear, letting you know just how crazy you make him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Qui-Gon loves dirty talk. Whether that is him telling you how good you make him feel or in saying things like, "do you want to kiss my cock, little star? Agggh, you can fit so much of me like the good little girl you are." He knows how wet it makes you and that only makes him do it more.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants): He is a modest man but boy is he packing. Qui-Gon is 6'4'' and completely proportional if you catch my drift.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): His sex drive is quite high but is patient. However, the first moment you two get to yourselves, he jumps your bones.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): He doesn't instantly go to sleep but rather dozes off with you.

#qui-gon #qui gon #qui-gon jinn #qui gon jinn #qui-gon x reader #qui gon x reader #qui gon jinn x reader #qui-gon jinn x reader #qui gon smut #qui gon jinn smut #star wars smut #liam neeson #liam neeson fan fiction #liam neeson x reader #liam neeson fan fic #star wars fanfiction

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dameronsknight · 1 year

Note

Oh, oh! How about a Poe Dameron oneshot where the reader(f) and Poe have a very steamy goodbye the night he leaves to fight for the Resistance and then he comes back a year later (or years, maybe after the First Order is defeated in ROS) and the reader has a baby (a daughter she names after Poe’s mom) that he didn’t know about. Obviously with a happy ending, my man would be an amazing dad.

“I promise…”

a/n: aaaaaaaaaa thank you for requesting this! i think i almost cried while writing it, and i *tried* to write the... steamy part... lmao ANYWAYS, i hope you like it! comments and feedback are well recieved :)

word count: i have no idea bub

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, small mention of a period, reader is female, sad but the rest is flufffff

"Why don´t you come with me?" Poe asked.

"What am I gonna do in the Resistance? I'm not a pilot or a medic. I don't know anything about fixing ships. I'd be useless over there." I said with a sigh.

Poe was looking at me with desperate eyes. He had to leave to join the Resistance. Someone offered him to be one of the pilots. I'm very happy for him because I know how much he loves to fly, but I can't help but feel sad, wishing he wouldn't leave.

Poe looked down and shook his head. "I just don't wanna leave you." He said.

I stood up and walked towards him to gently grab his hand. "But I know how much you wanna go. Saving the galaxy is what you have to do and it calls out to you." I said. Poe leaned forward and rested his forehead on mine.

"I don't wanna leave you." He repeated. I gave him a sad smile.

"I'll be okay here on my little farm. You don't have to worry about me." I said.

Maker, my heart was hurting. It's as if someone is actually trying to rip it out of my vhest. This is it... this is the last time I'll evr see Poe.

"I'll try to come visit you. Any time I have a chance." He said.

"I don't think you'll have time to visit me. You're gonna be a pilot. You'll have missions and responsibilities." I said. Poe shook his head and leaned back to look in my eyes.

"I promise I will. Sweetheart, you're the most important thing in my life." H esaid before cupping my face. "I promise..."

He didn't let me say anything else as he leaned in to kiss me. It was intense and desperate. Poe obviously had control and my knees were goin weak.

We started to walk backwards until my legs hit the bed. I broke away when my lungs felt like they were on fire. Poe was breathing heavily as his hands were still on my cheeks.

"Let me say goodbye to you in the way that you deserve, baby." He said and my heart skipped a beat. A funny feeling appeared in my lower abdomen.

I breathed out an 'okay' and Poe's lips were instantly back on mine. Our clothes were quickly discarted and he laid me down on the bed before getting on top of me, but our lips never seperated.

It was a night full of short breaths, moans and desperate kisses. Poe's weight on top of me as he would kiss my neck and whisper praises in my ear. I never experienced anything like this before.

When we both came to our limits, we stayed there breathing heavily. Poe buried his face in my neck and i started to run my fingers through his hair. I could feel his nose tickling my skin.

"I don't wanna leave you." Poe whispered loud enough for me to hear him.

The realization started to set in and tears started to form in my eyes. I didn't want Poe to see me sad.

I don't want you to leave...

But I never said it.

---------------------------------------------

It's been 2 months since Poe left, and it was the hardest goodbye I ever had to say. I've been feeling so sick and with zero energy. I didn't have the best appetite. Of course I blame it on the fact that I miss Poe like crazy.

In these couple of months the galaxy has gotten crazier and very unsafe. The First Order has been catching up to the Resistance's plans and they've become dangerous and evil. Several news of planets being destroyed and systems being taken over.

That means Poe hasn't visited or contacted me not even once.

I don't blame him though. He must be very busy. Yavin IV is safe from all the chaos so I don't want him to worry.

Today I was outside with my animals, until suddenly, My stomach flipped and I felt fery sick. So I ran inside to the bathroom and hunched over the toilet.

Maker what was happening to me? I sat down on the bathroom floor trying to catch my breath. I turned my head and caught a glimpse of a box of pads. Then I realized...

I'm late.

Uh oh. Very, very late to be exact. How could I not realize?! It's been a month and my period didn¿t come. In my defense, I was distracted by Poe's absence.

Ok, ok... calm down. It can't be... I can't be pregnant. Actually, I could be, but i really didn't want to be given the circumstances.

Later that day, I got on my small speeder and went to the local fai to get a homemade test. When I went back home, I walked in the bathroom with trembling hands that were holding the pregnancy test.

10 minutes passed and I couldn't dare to look at the small stick. A million thoughts were passing through my mind. I was shaking, playing with my hair, sitting down, standing up and walking around. Anything to distract myself.

I finally brought myself to look at the test. It confirmed what I was afraid of.

I'm pregnant.

"Maker... what am I gonna do?" I said to myself.

Do I even tell Poe? I don't even know how to contact him. And I can't fly out to the Resistance base because it costs a lot of credits.

Does Poe even want to be a dad? We never had the chance to talk about it.

I'm gonna have a baby and I can't even tell the father. A baby. My baby. I looked down at my stomach and a strong feeling bloomed in my chest. I'm gonna be a mom. Nobody prepares you for this, but somehown I think we're gonna be alright.

"We're gonna be okay, little one. I promise." I said as iI placed my hands on top of where my baby was growing.

Everything is gonna be alright.

————————————————————

5 years later

I heard noises of what sounded like an engine, so I walked into the room only to find my daughter on her bed mimicking an X-Wing’s noise. She was holding the bed head and going nyooom with her mouth.

“Shara, sweetie, what are you doing?” I asked and laughed.

“Mama!” She squealed.

Just like your father… I thought. Shara was so much like Poe. Her little curls bouncing as she played and those big beautiful brown eyes looking at me.

“Here comes an X-Wing to pick Shara up! Pshhhh” I said as I ran over to her and picked her up, placing her on my shoulders and running out of the room. Shara giggled while holding my hands.

I took her outside to the front yard and started spinning around making her get more excited.

“We arrived to your destination, little one! You saved the galaxy!” I said and I brought her down to my arms. “I wish your dad was here to teach you how to fly.”

Suddenly, one of my neighbors came running to my house while shouting my name.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked once he reached my front yard.

“Miss! I have great news!” He said out of breath. “The First Order have been beaten. The galaxy is finally safe!”

I gasped and my eyes widened. “The Resistance won?” I asked.

“Yes! Isn’t that amazing? Those bastards are finally gone!” He said and I smiled.

“That’s great news!” I said and hugged Shara tightly.

“My daughter’s death will no longer be in vain anymore.” He said and I gave him a sympathetic smile. We hugged and then he went back to his house.

That night I could see fireworks from afar. The whole galaxy was celebrating and there was finally peace.

I couldn’t help but think about Poe. I wonder if he’s okay, how he’s doing. I just hope… Maker, I hope he’s still alive.

Shara and I were playing by the fireplace until she fell asleep. I took her to her bed while humming a song until a placed her on it. She curled up into a ball when I covered her and kissed her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, little one.” I said.

—————————————————————

The next day, I was outside with the animals while Shara was at a close distance picking up flowers and talking to herself.

Then, I heard the sound of a fighter getting closer. When I looked up, I saw an X-Wing land on the field in front of my house. The pilot’s seat window opened, revealing the only man who’s been on my mind with a small droid following him.

“Poe.” I said. He was at a certain distance, but somehow we locked eyes once he got out of his ship. My heart was racing and I could move. My breaths were becoming uneven and my eyes never left him.

Poe was walking and getting closer to me. I stood in the same place, fiddling with my fingers. He stopped one foot away from me.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said with a small smile. I could feel a lump in my throat and my eyes filled with tears.

“Poe…” I said. But I didn’t move, I just looked at him and all over his body, just in case I made him up in my imagination.

“Maker, I’ve missed you.” He said and I could see his eyes full of tears, but none of them were yet falling down his face.

“You’re- you’re back. Poe, you’re back.” I said taking a step forward, but stopping myself because I was still afraid he wasn’t real.

Poe, knowing me very well, must’ve noticed this, and reached out to grab my hand. I gasped when his skin came in contact with mine. “I’m back. I’m right here, it’s me.” He said.

I let out a sob and threw my arms around his neck. I hugged him tightly and he returned the gesture. Tears were falling down my face.

“I missed you so much, Poe. I can’t believe you’re here.” I said and he was rubbing my back.

“I know, baby. I missed you too. I came back the moment we won.” Poe said before leaning back to look at me. “We won.”

“I know. I’m so proud of you and I’m so glad you’re okay.” I said with a smile. Poe looked down, seeming ashamed all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I swear I wanted to but everything was crazy and dangerous. I even got taken in by the First Order…” He said and my heart dropped.

“What?! They took you hostage- What did they do to you? How did it happen?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. They didn’t do much, don’t worry.” He said before taking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But that’s when I swore I would fight. I was gonna do whatever it took to save the galaxy and come back to you… And I did.” Poe said making me smile.

“You did and that’s what matters now.” I said. Poe let out a huge breath and looked down at my lips.

“Please let me kiss you. It’s been a long time.” He said and I instantly connected my lips with his. We pulled each other closer.

We stayed like that for a good minute until we heard some beeping, making us pull away. I looked down and BB-8 was there with his head tilted.

“Hey there, Beebs. I missed you too.” I said. and he beeped back.

Poe gave me that charming smile that I knew too well. Then, he briefly glanced behind me and his smile dropped.

“What is it?” I asked and turned around only to see Shara getting closer with a bunch of flowers in her hand. The sight of her made me smile and I looked back at Poe.

“That’s my daughter.” I said which made Poe’s face fall into disappointment. “…Which also makes her your daughter.” I spoke again and Poe’s face lit up.

“We… We have a daughter?” He asked. I looked back at Shara, who was counting her flowers.

“Shara? Come here, honey.” I said.

“Shara?” Poe asked as he looked at me with the biggest smile i’ve ever seen.

Shara looked up and ran towards us. She glanced at Poe with a curious look and never took his eyes off him.

I bent down and Poe did the same. “Honey, this is Poe Dameron.” I said.

“I’m Dameron too.” Shara said with a gasp. Poe was speechless.

“Remember that picture I showed you of your dad? This is him.” I said.

Shara looked at Poe, surely trying to connect the face she saw in the picture to Poe’s face. Then she recognized him and a bright smile, similar to Poe’s, appeared on her face.

“Dad! It’s you!” She said before throwing her little arms around Poe.

When I looked at Poe’s face, it was full of tears and he hugged her back picked her up. He closed his eyes and swayed her from side to side.

“Oh, Maker… I can’t believe it.” He said just above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry for not being here.”

I shook my head as I started crying again. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I couldn’t find a way to contact you and tell you… You couldn’t have known.” I said.

Shara leaned back to look at her dad’s face. She cupped his face with her little face making Poe smile. BB-8 was rolling around them both.

“How old are you, little one?” He asked.

“Mommy calls me that too!” She said, making me chuckle.

“She’s four years old. Almost five. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” I said and Shara nodded.

“Daddy can be here for my birthday right?” Shara asked with a pout on her face.

“Of course, I will. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you girls forever.” Poe said before looking at me. “I promise.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around them both. Poe kissed my forehead and Shara’s cheek. “I love you both so so much. I love you.” He said, looking at me at the last part of that sentence.

“I love you too.” I said.

We stayed like that for a while until Shara spoke. “Daddy can teach me how to fly!” Poe gasped and placed her on his shoulders, just like I did yesterday.

“I’m gonna teach you all the tricks! Let’s goooo! Pshhhhh!” He said while mimicking an X-Wing with Shara. I laughed as I watched them play around.

Our family is finally complete.

*******************************

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #star wars #oscar isaac

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