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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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Serve your Queen

Summary: Din had been gone for a few weeks leaving you in charge of the kingdom. A diplomat from another planet does his best to insult you in front of your people, not knowing that Din was listening to every word he said. After you made sure to tell the diplomat exactly what you are thinking about the way he talks to you, Din has no other choice but to… serve his queen

Pairing: Mand'alor Din Djarin x fem. Mando Reader (Queen)

Wordcount: 1.8k

Warnings: sexism, insults, smut (oral f receiving; unproctected sex), Throne sex (so i guess semi public), power dynamics

A/N: all of this is just an excuse to write Throne sex with Din where he isn't the one in charge. Thanks to the mando beta whisperer @the-scandalorian <3

You weren’t used to your new armor yet.

The armorer had only forged it for you some weeks ago, and until now, you hadn’t had a chance to wear it in its full glory.

It was beautiful—shiny silver like Din’s with the same Mudhorn signet on your left shoulder.

Ever since coming to Mandalore, things had changed rapidly for Din and you. You only realized after Din had taken the responsibility of being the Mand’alor how much your lives would change. Din was a king, and you were, somewhat, a queen…though, after a short time, it became pretty clear that for most people your job consisted of one thing and one thing only.

Providing an heir to the throne.

This seemed like a weird expectation considering that the throne could be won via combat by basically anyone at any time, but you weren’t about to question it. Again.

The Mandalorians had their ways, and even though you had grown up with them, you didn’t agree with all of them. Much like your husband. Din Djarin.

You had met Din almost ten years ago. Back then, he was ruthless, heartless—and a little cocky—and he worked with a group of the worst of the worst beings of the universe.

As a bounty hunter yourself, you had been given a puck for a quarry he was also after, which meant he was pitted against one of the few Mandalorians he had ever met outside the covert... and he lost.

He had been infuriated and fascinated with you at the same time.

Later, when you were already together he had told you that he was so distracted by you, that he didn’t even really try to get the bounty.

In the years after that, your paths kept crossing.

Yet the event that changed your relationship with the bounty hunter was when he found you in a cantina in Sorgan and offered you a job.

One destroyed ship, one kid returned to the Jedi, and one accidental win of the darksaber later, you were married and sitting on Din’s throne as you listened to the endless insults of a diplomat from a moon you had never heard of, who was furious that you were meeting him and not the “proper king,” as he stated it. You could see the guards shifting their weight nervously as they watched you listening to the man speaking himself almost into a rage.

Din had been gone for a month to search for new clans to bring back to Mandalore, leaving you in charge.

And your people—even though they saw you as little more than a means to an heir—knew that you were a capable fighter, someone who shouldn’t be messed with. They saw you sparring against Din and Paz, and you could take down both, even though you were only half their size.

“Are you done yet?” you asked, thankful for the helmet hiding your bored expression.

The man in front of you shut his mouth, his face growing a lovely raging shade of red, as you shifted on the throne.

“I am not done until I have spoken to the true ruler of this planet to discuss our future relationship.”

“What relationship if I might ask? Is it not your little moon who needs the protection of the Mandalorians? What is it you are offering us?” you asked.

The man scoffed. “I do not think someone like you would understand that.”

“Someone more intelligent than you? Yes, I agree,” you nodded, leaning back and crossing your legs on the throne. You heard a chuckle, your eyes landing on a figure at the end of the room, leaning against the wall. You would recognize that armor anywhere.

“How dare you speak to me like that? You’re just a placeholder for the man in power.”

“So is that your problem? That I’m not a man?”

He was about to answer when a low voice spoke.

“I would be very careful how you answer that question if I were you. I know firsthand that the queen has a temper.” Din walked slowly towards the front of the room, and the man in front of you paled as he bowed.

“Mand’alor…” Din just held his hand up, and the man closed his mouth like a fish. Din walked up the stairs to the throne, and you uncrossed your legs and looked up at the man in front of you.

“Everyone out,” Din said, his helmet focused on you, and you could hear shuffling.

“But, sire…” the man tried.

“I said OUT!” Din growled. It only took a couple more seconds until you heard a door close, and the room was empty.

“That was very impressive, oh great Mand’alor,” you teased, and Din shook his head.

“I’m still thinking about calling him back, just to see you kick his ass.”

You tilted your helmet up, a smile on your lips.

“I missed you,” you said, starting to get up, but he stopped you, getting down to his knees.

“Din…” you whispered, but he shook his head again. He started to take his gloves off, throwing them to the floor, before his big, warm hand was on your thigh.

“What are you doing?” you asked, but he didn’t give you an answer. Instead, his palm found your clothed core, and you sighed.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed your cunt?” he asked, beginning to move his hand. You relaxed into the throne, your hands gripping the armrests.

“Hopefully not just my cunt,” you whimpered and heard a chuckle.

“Also missed your sharp tongue,” he said before he took his helmet off. He blinked a couple of times, getting used to the bright daylight streaming through the big windows before he looked at you. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Taste him. Feel him. You took your gloves off too, touching his cheek. He needed a shave. He smiled, kissing the palm of your hand, before he began to remove your leg armor.

“Din…” you whispered in warning, and he shook his head for a third time. He was determined.

“Let me serve my queen,” he smiled, and you sighed. You let him take your pants and boots off, leaving you naked from the waist down.

“Perfect,” he hummed, inhaling deeply as if someone had served dinner. He pulled you closer to the edge of the throne, hooking your legs over the armrests so you were spread out for him.

“If that asshat can’t hear you when you cum, I didn’t do my job right,” he winked up at you before his tongue was on you. He kissed up your inner thighs, sucking marks into your skin only he would be able to see and know about, before he tasted you. He moaned against you like he was putting on a show, but you knew better. Din had spent more hours between your legs than you could count and fuck if you weren’t addicted to him.

He kissed your lower lips, consuming you as if you were his last meal. Then, his tongue darted out, licking up and down, teasing your clit, licking up your juices.

One of your hands grabbed hold of his hair, keeping him where you wanted him most. He hummed against you, his lips sucking on your clit, and you moaned out loudly.

“Din, please…” you whined, looking down into his eyes, cursing the helmet you were still wearing. He saw you reach for your helmet and helped pull it off of you, setting it down on the ground next to his before he was back on you.

You held his gaze as he hollowed his cheeks, his tongue working relentlessly to make you see stars.

“Fingers, please…” you begged, and immediately two of his fingers pushed into you, angled just right, and you moaned his name.

“Cum for me, my queen,” he hummed, and the next moment you felt your body shudder, your orgasm washing over you in waves while Din moved his fingers inside, extending your pleasure until you tried to get away from him, feeling over sensitive. He kissed your cunt once, before he licked his fingers clean.

“Come here,” you smiled, and he got up, finally kissing you after being away for so long.

You smiled against his lips, your hands running down his chest until you played with the zipper of his pants.

“What are you doing?” he hummed against your lips.

“What do you think?” you asked, finally getting the zipper opened, his cock almost jumping out as you worked on his pants.

“Do you want to fuck me, or do you want me to fuck you, oh big Mand’alor?” you grinned against his lips, and he groaned.

“Fuck me,” he growled, and you found yourself straddling his lap only moments later when he changed positions with you, pulling you into his lap with ease.

“Maybe it’s my turn to make everyone hear you cum, so they know who’s really in charge here, huh?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and slowly lowered yourself down onto his hard cock. He grabbed your hips, and you both moaned when he was inside you to the hilt. You kissed him, before you brought your hands up to his shoulders and began to move. Riding him slowly, you kept your lips connected to whatever skin of his you could reach as his hands gripped your ass, helping you move on top of him.

“Missed this,” he rasped. “Missed you,” he added before he kissed you again.

You crossed your arms behind his neck, resting your forehead against his as you felt another climax approaching.

“Please tell me you won’t leave me for at least some weeks,” you whined, rolling your hips faster.

“I’ll stay here until you’re sick of me,” he vowed.

“Never,” you whispered, kissing him.

You felt him smile against your lips.

“Din, I’m close,” you sighed.

“Me too. Want you to cum on my cock. Missed your tight pussy squeezing me…” you felt his fingers rub your clit, and you whined.

“Cum for me, riduur,” he growled, and you exploded, holding on to him as he fucked up into you, chasing his own high and he groaned loudly when he finally spilled himself inside of you, keeping you close against his body.

After several moments of quiet, you broke the silence: “Din?”

“Hm?”

“You know I’m in charge here, right?” you asked.

He laughed, nodding. “Everyone knows you’re in charge, mesh’la.”

#din djarin

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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DIN THOTS UNDER THE CUT SPOILERS FOR TBOBF

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#din djarin

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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Frankie Morales and dog tags

based on these two thoughts (1) (2)

Warnings: reader is female, 18+ (minors dni), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation

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#frankie morales

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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the grand tour

Pairing: Javi Gutiérrez x F!Reader

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: SMUT - oral sex (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex, clothed sex, woman on top, some dirty talk, dirty names (the word slut is used), creampie

A/N: This all came from the idea that Javi would wear your panties as a pocket square. I know he’s a himbo but I believe he’s also very naughty ;).

Summary: You end up at Javi’s place because of party he’s throwing. You catch his eye and get a special tour of his house.

[masterlist] (I do not have a masterlist for Javi yet so for now he will be under the ‘other characters’ link. If I end up writing more for him, he will get his own link :)).

You noticed him before he noticed you. If anything, it looked like he was trying his best not to get noticed, but everyone knew who he was and what he did for a living.

Javi Gutiérrez.

You stared up at the balcony he was standing on hoping no one else on the beach realized how hard you were staring. His orange shirt billowed along with the breeze and his curls were caressed by the wind as well.

His hair looks so soft.

“Hey girl!” your friend said, startling you. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” She sat in the beach chair beside you and, of course, noticed that you were looking at something when she walked up. She looked up in the direction you were and smiled. “He’s throwing a party, you know?”

“What? When?” you asked.

“Tonight! Good thing I bought my red dress with me. I’m definitely gonna be catching his eye tonight,” she simpered. You laughed awkwardly along with her then sank back into your beach chair.

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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The Pornographic Hologram

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader x Boba Fett

Summary: You, Din and Boba decide to make a sex tape.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Making a sex tape, smut, threesome-ish, rough sex (unprotected), missionary (unprotected), doggy style (unprecedented), cunnilingus, face-fucking, blowjob, handjob, masturbation (m, f), creampie, squirting, cock worship, breast/nipple worship, choking, spanking, scratching, teeny bit of degradation (1 use of the word slut), rope/tied up, blindfolding, bad language, nicknames (princess, mesh’la), a teeny bit of fluff at the end

Word count: 1k

A/N: I will not be posting at all tomorrow because I have my booster jab and the pharmacy I'm going to is out of town so I will be out until the evening. I apologise to the people waiting for requests, they will get done, I promise.

Join my taglist

Masterlist

The idea drifted into your’s, Boba’s, and Din’s thoughts like a moth would glide towards the light. All three of you were surprised that each of you could come up with such a dirty, vulgar notion when neither of you was intoxicated, all three of you were completely sober. The fact that neither of you has been laid in various months made the three of you crave this more than anything in this galaxy.

You all know the harms of making the sex tape. You all know that there's a very high chance that you could fall in love with one of them. But it doesn't stop you. Nowhere near stopping you.

***

Recording...

You're lying there on the bed in Boba’s throne room, stroking your clitoris, both men are watching you from the chairs they're sitting on, palming themselves as you permit pretty moans to leave your mouth. Din and Boba lower their trousers to their knees, stroking themselves as they watch your glistening body getting pleasured by yourself.

By now both men's cocks are weeping, begging to get pleasured by you in any way possible. They just need your attention. “Stop, princess,” Boba orders you. “Bend over for us and hold your arms out,” Din also orders you. You do as you're told, getting onto your knees, sticking your arse out for the men to see, then you hold your hands out for them. Din grabs some rope and ties it securely around your wrists, it's tight but not tight enough to hurt you. “I’m going to tie this blindfold around your eyes, okay, princess?” Boba murmurs softly against your ear. You nod desperately, then Boba secures the piece of fabric around your eyes tightly, but not too tight.

Boba gives your arse a few smacks, causing filthy moans to leave the midsts of your throat. “Can I please put you in my mouth?” You plead with Din, full of desperation to savor him. “Mmm, fuck, yes, Din groans as guides your head down to his cock. You glide the flat of your tongue around the tip of his cock, earning a gorgeous-sounding growl from the abysses of his throat. “Oh fuck, so great mesh’la. I love your pretty mouth so fucking much,” Din grunts as he brings his naked, rough hand to your cheek, caressing it. You press soft, feather-light kisses along his rod and bless the most precious kiss to the tip.

“Can I get a taste of you?” Boba murmurs into your ear as you hungrily run your mouth and tongue all around Din’s thick length. You nod desperately in response, then almost immediately you feel Boba’s tongue push its way through your folds to your clit, causing you to cry out desperately against Din’s cock. You fasten your lips around his cock, bobbing your head as you take him in deeper and deeper into your throat. Meanwhile, Boba is consuming you like he hasn't eaten anything in weeks--maybe months. A wonderful burning sensation overcomes you as your climax catches up to you. “Oh, look at you--you dirty little slut--sucking my big cock--while he licks you out--such a naughty slut,” Din says in between moans. Those vulgar, filthy words drag you to your climax, you scream out in immense pleasure as your juices squirt out of your cunt and all over Boba’s face. Desperate to reach his climax, Din repeatedly thrusts his hips, shoving his cock into the back of your throat, until he's a whimpering mess, leaking his thick ropes of cum into the back of your throat.

Boba grabs you, gently and flips you onto your back. He removes your blindfold gently, saying, “I want you to look me in the eye, while I rail the fuck out of you.” Boba eliminates the rest of his clothes, then plants his thick length inside you. He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size, before pulling out to the tip and shoving himself back in, fucking you roughly. Your and Boba’s vulgar noises fill the room, neither of you caring about the fact that anyone in the palace could find out what's going on. Din sits beside your fucking bodies, putting his naked hand in between your naked bodies, squeezing your breasts, and playing with your nipples. You’re now screaming out in pleasure from two wonderful sensations, Boba’s thick cock grinding against your g-spot and Din’s rough hand playing with your tits. Boba continues fucking you until you he becomes a groaning mess and fills your desperate cunt with his thick ropes, cumming together as you dig your nails into the side of his neck, dragging them slightly, leaving a mark. Once you’ve both come down from your releases, Boba pulls out of you, giving Din the chance to fuck you.

Din unties the rope that bound around your wrists earlier on, so you can stabilize yourself, then he flips you onto all fours. He lines his cock up with your entrance, then pushes his cock through your folds, into your entrance, receiving a loud moan from both of you. He thrusts his cock mercilessly in and out of your slick cunt, balls deep. Your moans soon turn into screams of pleasure, loving his rough and dangerous pace. “Oh, fuck, you take me so fucking well,” Din groans. As he draws close to his orgasm, he wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you up on his cock as he shoves it up into you. He continues these deep, rough thrusts, rubbing his thick cock against your g-spot with his hand still wrapped around your throat. You're close to another orgasm, an extreme one. Boba can see that so he gently takes your hands in his and murmurs, “it’s okay princess, you can cum.” You do, you scream out their names in pleasure as you cum hard, very hand on Din’s cock. “Cum for me, Din. It’s okay, you can cum,” You beg him, still squirting on his cock. From your words, he starts to pulse inside you, whimpering your name like he’s reciting a prayer as he cums inside your cunt.

Din pulls out of you, then heaves you close to his soft chest, lying down with you on the bed. Boba turns the recording off, then returns to the bed, lying beside you and Din, resting his head on your chest.

***

Permanent taglist: @mesmorales @omlwhatamidoinghere @insomniamamma @prideandpascal @littlepadika @littlemisspascal @absurdthirst @mswarriorbabe80

Din Djarin taglist: @firstofficerwiggles @ajeff855 @anaaaispunk

#din djarin #boba fett

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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Would you rather have Kylo Ren fuck you wearing the mask or have him use the force to make you ride him?

THE FORCE OH MY GOD—

“I know you feel it.” He says, the leather of his gloves creaking as his grip tightens around your throat. Tears well in your eyes and track down your cheeks as you lick your lips, a wheezing breath escaping between them. His words are your thoughts spoken aloud, and even as your face heats in shame, you can’t stop them. “So full, you didn’t know you could be so full,” he echoes.

Your face is pressed against the cool metal of the ship’s hull, and you’re only just out of sight. Anyone who wanted to check back here had only to peer around the corner and they would see you, stuffed full of the Supreme Leader’s cock, your pants around your ankles, his hand around your throat. He moves languidly, like he has all the time in the world, drawing out slowly and then pushing in inch by delicious, thick, inch.

Footsteps make your head snap up, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even bother trying to hide. When the troopers come around the corner, he simply waves a hand at them.

“You don’t see us.”

You clench around him—you can’t help it. You’d heard their surprised gasps, seen them falter—and now they continue on as if you’re not there. As if Kylo isn’t balls deep in you right now.

His fingers slide against a panel, and the wall behind you opens—a med bay. His cock slips out of you long enough for him to drag you inside. You watch him recline on the small bed, his cock pointing straight up, still slick with you.

It’s clear you waffle too long, because suddenly you feel him in your head, like two feet in one sock, and your limbs begin moving without your permission. “Come. Ride it, rebel girl.” It’s an order, a command, and then a need inside of you, so familiar it’s easy to forget it’s foreign.

You’re clamoring onto him, spreading your thighs eagerly as you sink down. His hands are on your breasts, twisting and teasing your nipples as ones you can’t see grasp your hips, helping you move. You sob at the fullness, but you can’t stop, you can’t—

“I think you’re finally beginning to learn.”

#kylo ren #oh 👀👀

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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Night Out

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (part of Because of You universe)

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: You and Frankie get a babysitter for the night and head to Benny’s for a party. You make sure to take advantage of the night out.

Warnings: PWP - lactation kink, thigh riding, car sex, unprotected p in v, praise kink, dirty talk, spanking, mentions of oral sex, squirting

Other Parts: Because of You - Dirty - Bedtime - Temptation

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#frankie morales

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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You knew the moment this became more than just a recon mission. It wasn’t the moment you were in the jungle scoping out Lorea’s house, or when you all found out Pope had been lying the whole time, or watching the video from the informant. No it was the moment you saw the armory he’d collected in an old shipping container.

Frankie pulls off his sunglasses and puts them into the neck of his shirt, leaning on Tom’s shoulder. His eyes go from concerned to calculating, taking in the plethora of assault weapons, gear, and even a couple bombs. He’d thought this through, Pope, he’s been planning this for years.

“I’m definitely getting that Ferrari now,” Benny turns to grin at you. You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes your mouth as you cross your arms over your chest, keeping your eyes downcast.

“What have I told you Benny,” Frankie walks over to you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, offering some comfort. “Never spend your money until it’s in your pocket.”

You slowly lift your head and he’s closer than you were expecting, hovering over you. “Fish,” Pope calls and he breaks eye contact to glance at Pope who tosses him a rifle. Keeping one hand on you, he catches the gun with his left hand, the ridges in his forearms tightening around the gun.

“Seems I still got it,” his voice is husky as he looks from the gun back to you.

“You never lost it Fish,” your voice is nothing more than a whisper, lost in the warmth of his brown eyes.

“No?” he cocks a grin at you.

“No.”

#frankie morales #oh 👀 that visual #fuck yes

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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“We have to fly over the FUCKIN ANDES MAN!”

You press your hands into his chest, and try to calm him down. “Frankie, Frankie,” he’s breathing heavy as Tom continues pushing.

“Just give him a fucking minute!” You turn snapping at your former commander.

“You don’t tell me what to do!” His eyes aren’t right as he puts a finger in your face.

“You get that finger out of her face or I’ll fucking break it!” Frankie pushes you behind him and stares down Tom.

Neither man moves, before Tom breaks eyes contact with a loud sigh, “can we make it?”

Frankie glares back at him, before turning to you, you shake your head, you’ve done the math in your head. “Fish?” Tom asks again, “we’re not leaving 100 million dollars on the runway are we?!”

Frankie sighs and you can see the defeat set into his shoulders, “she’ll make it!”

Tom grins and goes back to loading the chopper, Frankie goes to follow but you grab his arm. “Frankie...”

“I’ll get you home,” he mumbles not meeting your eyes, “just trust me.” He pulls his arm from your grasp and you watch him step into the chopper.

“I trust you,” you mumble under your breath, “it’s Tom I don’t trust.”

#Frankie morales

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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“He’s a kid!” You step in front of the gun, and Frankies eyes widen. The rifle instantly dropping, his jaw clenched so tight it could snap.

“Sunshine, move,” Frankie growls, his hand on the gun tightening when you refuse to do so. “He’s seen us, the second we leave he’s going to call them and they’re going to find us!”

“Then they find us,” you put your hand on his arm. “Frankie,” he glances away, “baby, look at me.” His eyes snap to yours, and hold you in his sights, Pope moving silently to tie up and gag the teenager. “You’re not going to shoot an innocent kid, that’s not you.”

You take a step closer, cupping his grime stained cheek, “that’s not the Frankie I love.” He swallows hard and nods, opening his mouth to reply, your fingers hovering over his lips, “no, please don’t say anything.”

“Fish, Hotwire the truck,” Pope orders, Will shouldering past and bumping you with his heavy pack. Frankies hands shoot out to your waist to steady you.

You turn towards the trunk but Frankies hands on your waist tighten, pulling you to his chest. Your hands rest on the Kevlar and his forehead brushes your own, “thank you,” he mumbles. “I never would have forgiven myself if I pulled that trigger.”

“I know,” you whisper, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips, “now come on, we’re not out of the woods yet.”

#frankie morales

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

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easy, girl (Whiskey/f!reader)

Rating: E (Explicit)

Length: 4.5k

Summary: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels retired honorably from Statesman and bought a ranch in Montana. You’re part of the construction team helping with the renovations. You catch his eye, and he catches yours, but you’re not looking for a relationship; you want someone to treat you right and ease your tension, someone you can trust to take care of you. Jack is more than up to the challenge.

Warnings: SMUT, daddykink, PIV sex (unprotected), oral (m receiving), spanking, pussy spanking, slight d/s elements, alcohol consumption, let me know if I missed something important

A/N: Just some daddy!whiskey after a request and thots from @danniburgh, hope you like this bby! Much love as always to my sweet writing wife @ezrasbirdie who helped me sort through this little fic and reassured me it was not a total disaster. And the gif isn’t actually Jack but also it IS OKAY it just is.

Masterlist | Next Chapter

+++

“Perfect,” you say, wiping the sweat from your brow as the last piece of the built-in hutch is nailed in. The exquisite woodwork frames the entryway perfectly, and the dark cherry shelves lit from beneath will make a gorgeous display case. You don’t know much about the man of means moving in here, but he’s supposed to be arriving today, so you’re thrilled the work is complete.

What kind of a name is Jack Daniels, anyway?

You shake your head. He must be in the alcohol business. There are quite a few distilleries in the area, the practice having gained in popularity in this part of Montana. You slide your hand across the smooth, heavy wooden shelves, double anchored into the wall.

“Not bad at all.” The rich baritone makes you jump slightly.

“Apologies, miss,” the man adds. “Didn’t mean to startle ya.”

“It’s all right,” you reply, turning to face him.

He’s gorgeous. Not in an obvious, cover model sort of way. He’s got more of a rugged edge to him. Strong nose, full mustache. Broad chest and shoulders, his stomach fairly trim but a hint of softness making his navy button-down shirt curve out, just above his gleaming belt buckle. Dark wash jeans, boots already a little dusty from his walk up the drive.

“Name’s Jack,” he says, holding out his hand. It dwarfs your own, and you feel your heart quicken as you take it, shaking it in greeting. Your own name sounds foreign on your lips.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says, and you smile, his own lips curling up in a reflection of the gesture. “You have quite a way with your hands, I see.”

You shrug.

“All in a day’s work.”

Jack nods, pursing his lips and studying the hutch, running his hands over the smooth cherry. His palm cups one of the shelves and he gives a low whistle.

You feel yourself clench involuntarily. Fuck, how long has it been since a man touched you like that?

“Well, it makes the place feel more like home. Plenty of space for me to display my bull riding trophies,” he adds with a grin.

“You were a-?”

“No, ma’am,” he says hastily, chuckling. “I’m not sure why I said that. I suppose pretty, talented girls make me nervous.”

You bite your lip. He’s flirting.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair, I’m sure you’re looking to settle in soon,” you say. “Welcome home.”

Jack clears his throat.

“Actually,” he says, blushing, “I haven’t got my kitchen set up yet, and - well - I was thinkin’ of going to the local steakhouse for dinner tonight. I know it’s short notice, but I sure would like some company, being new in town and all. If you’d like to join me?”

Wow. He doesn’t mess about.

You pause thoughtfully, and Jack seems to be wrestling with whether his offer was a good idea when you finally respond.

“That sounds nice,” you say, smiling. “But I’d rather not go in these overalls covered in sawdust,” you add.

Jack chuckles.

“‘Course, I’d be happy to pick you up later,” he says.

You give him your address, which he types into his cell phone with awkward, too-big fingers. You find yourself staring at them, as he slides his phone back into his pocket and rubs his hands together.

“See you at seven, then,” he says, a buoyant smile on his face.

It’s contagious. You’re sure you must be grinning from ear to ear.

+++

You slip into a black wrap dress, one of your few nicer outfits, reserved for the occasional date, when you can be bothered to dress up - and this is one of those times. You slide on your pearl drop earrings, a pair that once belonged to your grandmother, and fasten a silver watch around your wrist.

Hair freshly washed and dried, you give yourself a final glance as the doorbell rings, spraying a few drops of perfume between your breasts and picking up your small evening bag.

You open the door, and Jack whirls around to see you, hat in hand, his lips parting in surprise. He’s got a small bouquet of flowers - lilies - arranged in an elegant crystal vase, and your eyes meet his as he sweeps in, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it.

“Mercy, woman,” he breathes, grinning up at you. “I sure am glad you said yes tonight.”

You chuckle, taking the vase and stepping back into the kitchen to admire it under the light.

“They’re beautiful, Jack,” you say, setting the vase on your kitchen table.

“Can’t hold a candle to you,” he whispered.

“Charmer,” you reply. “Shall we?”

The steakhouse is dimly lit, the music soft. Jack has a table reserved near the window, and the sun has already set behind the mountains, sending a riot of color into the sky as the light fades. The waiter brings you a bottle of merlot.

“To new beginnings,” Jack says, and you toast, taking a sip, the wine heavy on your tongue.

“So, what brings you to Big Sky country?” you ask, resting the glass back on the table and tracing your finger around the base. “Renovating the Drummond Ranch - must be costing you a pretty penny. You a distiller?”

Jack smiles.

“I was in the alcohol business for quite a long time. Statesman,” he says, clearing his throat.

“Whiskey,” you say, and he cocks an eyebrow. “I mean, they make a great one,” you add, and he nods.

“Yes, some say the best. Decided I was gettin’ a bit too old for the game, so I took retirement. Hangin’ up my hat, so to speak.”

You squint at him.

“Too old? You’re still pretty young,” you say, smiling.

“A generous statement from a beautiful young woman,” Jack replies. “I will accept it with grace.”

You both sip your wine, comfortable silence settling over the table.

“I’m glad you agreed to join me tonight,” Jack says, studying you. “But I have to ask, is there someone I am depriving of your company?”

You sigh softly.

“No, not at the moment. Honestly, I’ve been working so much, I can’t seem to sustain a traditional relationship these days.” You pause, eyeing him. “Cards on the table?”

Jack raises an eyebrow.

“Always.”

“Well,” you say, finger tracing the rim of your wine glass, “I’m looking for something a little different. Not many men can handle it.”

His gaze becomes even more intense, eyes alight with interest.

“Now you’ve got me curious, sugar,” he says, grinning. “What exactly is it you’re looking for?”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’ve never actually- I mean-“

“It’s all right,” Jack says, placing a gentle hand over yours on the table. “If we don’t ask for what we want, how will we ever get it?”

You take a deep breath.

“Well, I suppose - I’m looking for a Daddy.”

The silence between you feels like a yawning canyon. Part of you wants to claw at the words, drag them back up the rock walls and down your throat and never, ever say them again. It seems like an eternity before he replies.

“I must admit,” Jack says, “I’m actually not familiar with the concept.”

“Oh - really?” Your heart thuds, syncopated. You’re sure it skipped a few beats while you were waiting for his response.

“Really,” he says. His tone is simple, even, and devoid of judgement. He truly doesn’t know.

“Will you explain how it works?” Jack asks, inclining his head hopefully toward you. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to know more.”

“Oh- okay,” you say, a little breathlessly. “Well, the idea is - a caretaker. Sometimes it involves money, but that’s not really what I’m looking for. It’s more about decisions, and being cared for.” You pause. “I work so hard all day, making decisions, leading the work crews - when I go home, I crave someone to make decisions for me, to take that pressure off. Someone to give me one small thing to focus on, to relax my mind and quiet the tension. And when it comes to sex, well,” you add, eyes meeting his again at last, “there’s nothing better than having that strong presence guiding me, giving me pleasure, and telling me exactly how to please him, too.”

Jack has barely moved, barely blinked. He seems to be soaking in your words, turning them over in his mind.

“Well,” Jack says, folding his hands thoughtfully, “I haven’t done anything quite like that before, but I must say the idea intrigues me. And with you,” he adds, his gaze drifting down to your neck, shoulders and chest before rising back up, “I think I’d very much like to try it.”

“Okay,” you say, licking your lips.

“I might look to you just to be sure I’m doing it right,” Jack adds, fingers rubbing over his jaw, “but I believe I can take care of you.”

You smile.

The rest of dinner is easy, peaceful, and calm. Jack refills your wine glass and you enjoy a tender, juicy piece of sirloin with greens and fluffy buttermilk-mashed potatoes as Jack makes short work of a Porterhouse. He’s easy to talk to; charming, but not brash, unlike so many men in this town.

Those who seemed up to the challenge of your particular needs almost always wanted to own you. Jack already feels different.

You order a slice of cheesecake for dessert, and Jack smiles at the way your eyes light up as the fresh treat is placed in front of you. He reaches for your fork.

“Tell me if this is okay, sugar,” he says, smiling gently. You watch the utensil twirl in his fingers as he slides it through the cake, turning and lifting the piece to your lips. “Open up, baby girl,” he says, and your breath catches in your throat. You part your lips, letting him slide the fork into your mouth, enjoying the sweet-tart flavor, raspberry sauce catching on the corner of your lips. Jack pulls the fork back once you’ve cleaned it and brushes the sauce away with his thumb, bringing the digit to his lips and sucking it.

“Good?” He asks, his dark eyes trained on you as you feel heat rush down the back of your neck and bloom over your chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling.

“Baby steps,” Jack says, handing the fork off to you and nodding. “Enjoy your dessert, sugar.”

You’re sure you’ve never tasted anything sweeter.

Jack brings you home, lifting his Stetson off his head to say good night.

“I’ve had a glorious evening,” he says, a warm smile on his lips. “I’d like to explore your desires more soon,” he adds, a hopeful gleam in his eye. “If that’s something you would like?”

You trace your fingers over his tie, sliding them just under the lapel of his blazer.

“Why don’t we sleep on it?” you reply, eyes blazing. You take a half step back, and he licks his lips, shaking his head slightly. Lifting your hand to his mouth, he kisses the backs of your fingers and smiles.

“Sweet dreams, sugar,” he says, before tipping his hat and watching you walk inside.

Jack can’t help himself; the minute he gets home, he puts on his reading glasses, switches on his computer and starts doing research.

He’d never thought about exploring something like this before, and the more he reads, the more he gets turned on. There are as many variations of this sort of relationship as there are stars in the Montana sky, but based on your conversation, Jack has a pretty good idea of the kind you want. And he wants it, too.

He imagines you; naked across his lap, whimpering with need and letting him tease you; then with your hands tied to the bedpost; bare beneath his lips as he carefully measures out how much pleasure to give you, dragging you right to the edge of release over and over and over–

Jack scrubs a hand over his face, shaking his head to clear the thoughts.

He can’t wait to see you again.

It’s a week and two days before he finally does.

You remain friendly but professional on site - which is actually Jack’s home - and it’s not until you invite him over for drinks at the end of the following week that he gets to see your business persona slip off like a coat, leaving you lighter, freer, as you greet him at the front door of your house looking soft and comfortable in an oversized sweater and leggings.

“Come inside, Daddy,” you say, the words drawing a shudder of pleasure from him.

He follows you in, setting his hat on the counter and boots and small overnight bag near the door, then shrugging off his blazer and setting it on an armchair. Padding into the living room, you sweep in, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

“Statesman,” you say with a grin, unscrewing the top and pouring two fingers in each glass. You hand one to Jack and he swirls the amber liquid around before tipping the glass back, swallowing it.

You drain your own glass, sitting on the carpet next to the coffee table - level with Jack’s knees, legs tucked under you.

“Now what, Daddy?” You ask, gazing up at him, all wide-eyed innocence. Jack meets your gaze and you can feel his presence expanding to fill the role, fill the need you shared with him. His chest, his shoulders, the set of his jaw. He’s ready to give you everything you need.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, leaning forward and setting his glass down on the coffee table. “Will you be good, let Daddy take care of you? Focus on you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you reply.

“Such a good girl. Working so hard every day. How do those shoulders feel?”

You roll your shoulders back, feeling tension through the muscles. They’re hard and knotted; you carry a lot of stress in them.

“They hurt,” you reply simply, holding his gaze.

“Daddy’s gonna make them feel better,” he says. “Come, sit between my knees,” he adds, and you shift, climbing onto the sofa and perching where his thighs are spread apart. He places two warm, large hands on your shoulders.

“Baby girl, you weren’t foolin’ around, these are rock hard,” he says. “Just you let me take care of it.”

He presses his thumb into the muscle, meeting resistance and easing it in deeper, the tissue warming under his touch. The knit of your sweater and the wide straps of your bra restrict his movement slightly, and he gently turns your chin to look at him.

“Do you want Daddy to touch your skin? Get right down to the surface, where you need it the most?” He asks, and you nod, nearly whimpering with desire.

“Let’s take this off you, then,” he purrs, hands reaching to the front hem of your sweater. You raise both arms over your head as he pulls it up and off, then look back over your shoulder, smiling shyly, clad only in your bra. It’s a supportive one, yet still pretty; a black sheer layer covers the cups, but the straps are tight, digging into your shoulders.

“Daddy’s gonna take this off too,” he says, and you sigh in relief as he unhooks the clasp, your breasts falling free of the material. He leans forward, sliding the bra off your arms, leaving you bare from the waist up.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the pinched skin where the straps were too tight. “Let Daddy make you feel better.”

His hands slide up your bare back, fingertips seeking out tight muscles and massaging them. He rubs tension loose, working his way over the soft, bare flesh, but careful not to stray from his task. Your nipples peak with the sensation, hardening into buds as he rubs you, leaning in close to press a warm, wet kiss to your neck.

“Want more, sugar?” He asks, and you nod helplessly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you say, panting softly, leaning back against him. “Please - play with my nipples,” you whisper, eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure as his palms cup your breasts, as though he’d been waiting, aching for the moment you wanted him.

He tweaks both nipples, rolling them between his fingers as you moan in delight.

“Good girl,” he says, praise falling from his lips as he rolls and tugs on the peaks of your breasts, his mustache tickling the back of your neck.

You can feel him, hard against your lower back, and you reach back, cupping his bulge in your palm, when he stops.

“What did I say, baby girl?” He says, tone gentle but firm. “Focus on you, sugar.”

“But-“

“What did we say?”

“What did you say?” Jack had asked across the dinner table that first night.

“If I argue, while we’re in that space, it means I want you to spank me,” you repeated, eyes on him.

“Over my knee?” He asked, his mouth falling open slightly. The thought sent his blood rushing south.

“Over your knee, completely naked,” you said. “Maybe just five times, hard enough to sting just a little. We can use the stoplight system to check in. Not hard enough to leave marks. Just till I’m all warm,” you finished, lips closing around your final bite of cheesecake.

“You heard me, Daddy,” you reply, eyes leveling a challenge at him.

“Very well,” Jack said, easing you out of his lap. “Stand up, sugar. You need to be brought to heel, when Daddy tells you what to do.”

You pout, wiggling as Jack stands with you, hooking his thumbs in the sides of your leggings and pulling them down. They pool at your feet, quickly followed by your panties, and Jack takes a moment to look you over as you step out of them, examining your bare skin.

He sits back down, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Over my knee, sugar,” he says, face stern but not cruel. Your bravado slips away slightly. He’s really focused on getting this right.

You fold yourself down over his lap, your mound brushing against the denim of his jeans. It feels good.

He notices. Of course he does.

“No grinding that little pussy of yours to get off, baby girl,” he says, and you whimper. “Uh-uh-uh. You’ll come when Daddy says,” he adds, and you bite your lip, nodding.

Stretched across him, ass in the air, you feel completely exposed and at his mercy. His forearms flex as he rubs his hands over your ass, squeezing the cheeks experimentally before he places one hand at the small of your back.

Smack.

You jump a little.

“Count for Daddy,” he says, and you moan, mumbling the word.

“Clearly, baby girl.”

“One,” you say, panting.

“Better,” he murmurs.

Smack. It tingles, blood rushing to the surface of the skin.

“Two.” Your pussy throbs with need, and you bite down on your lip to keep from grinding it against the ribbed denim. It would be so easy to—

Smack. The throb has reached your cheeks, blood pounding, but not causing you pain. It’s just inside that sweet spot, and you feel your body relax.

“Three.”

“Color?” He asks.

“Green, Daddy,” you moan.

Smack. Smack.

You finish the count, cheeks nearly vibrating with sensation, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Daddy, it hurts,” you whimper, curling in on yourself.

“It’s over.. easy, girl, my sweet little thing, you did so good,” he breathes, soothing you with his hands. Jack leans down and presses his lips to the swell of your ass, cool and wet against the flaming surface.

“So good,” he nearly growls, opening his mouth and flattening his tongue against the skin, licking you. “You did so good.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, shaking all over.

“Sugar, do you still need to grind? Go ahead, it’s all right. Grind that little pussy on Daddy’s leg.”

You rock your hips, the friction increasing. You’re aching, clenching. Dripping. The denim is getting soaked, and you don’t care.

“Good girl, that’s it. Fuck, that’s my good girl, cum for Daddy,” he murmurs. You’re whining, panting with each thrust. Your swollen, throbbing clit rubs against the wet denim and you cry out, legs shaking, as you hit your peak.

Shaking, you curl up in his lap as he gently strokes your face.

“Such a good girl,” he says, and your back arches in delight at the praise.

”How was that for a start?” Jack asks, hands caressing your body. “Let’s get you a nice bath now, baby girl. Somethin’ soft to wear, right? And we can watch a movie, if you want.”

He’s three for three on the aftercare you’d discussed on the way home from last week’s date. This man is one to keep around.

You nod dreamily, and Jack lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He kneels by the tub, running the faucet till it’s nice and warm, then helping you into the water. The heat soothes your ass, still a little sensitive from his attention. Pouring a cap of bubble bath into the water, you watch the foam rise and giggle softly.

”I almost never take the time to use that,” you say, grinning.

”Well, when Daddy’s here, you take all the time you need,” Jack replies, kissing your forehead. He disappears for a moment, returning with a glass from the kitchen, filled with raspberry lemonade from a pitcher in the fridge.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you say, taking the glass and sipping gratefully, the fresh, sweet juice invigorating your senses. You set the glass aside and settle into the water, relaxing fully.

Jack has a soft washcloth in one hand, and he dips it below the water’s surface, massaging the lips of your pussy, then circling your clit.

You tip your head back, arching toward him, breasts covered in foam. He grins and cups your face.

“You know, I haven’t actually kissed you on the mouth yet,” he says, and you chuckle.

”Right you are,” you reply. “And here I am, naked in the tub, and you’re still fully dressed,” you add. “Since we’re doing things a little differently, I think I’d like to see you naked first. Before we do something so intimate as kissing,” you finish. Jack blushes, shaking his head before sitting back on his heels. He’s slow and deliberate as he unbuttons his shirt, peeling off the layer and setting it aside. His white cotton undershirt follows, and then he stands up.

You have to look up at his hips from your vantage point in the tub, and your eyes widen at the sight of his cock; he was bare beneath the jeans, all this time. He’s thick, the head peeking out of the foreskin, so red it’s nearly purple, swollen with need. A bead of precum glistens on his tip.

Gazing up at Jack, you smile, reaching for his length and kneeling up out of the water.

”Baby girl, you don’t have t’- oh, fuck,” he nearly cries as you wrap your lips around him.

You engulf him in your mouth, sucking him deep, as deep as you can. Your tongue curls under the head of his cock, tip massaging his most sensitive spot, and he fists his hand in your hair, barely restraining himself from just rocking his his hips and fucking your throat.

“Shit,” he pants, breaths erratic and labored. Your mouth, your tongue, he never imagined-

You pull off, hollowing your cheeks to give his tip a long, slow suck. He looks down at you, still soapy and wet, and squeezes the base of his cock with his fist to keep from bursting right there all over you.

“Supposed to be takin’ care of you,” he says after a long pause. “Bein’ your gentle Daddy, givin’ you everything you need.”

You stand, water and suds sliding off your skin.

“Right now, I need to ride your cock, Daddy,” you say, touching your clit with one hand and whimpering.

“Only Daddy gets to touch that,” Jack replies, gently tugging your hand away. You push it back between your legs and grin wickedly.

He pulls it away a second time and lifts you, dripping wet, into his arms. Grabbing a towel, he carries you to the bed and rests you down on it where you spread your legs wantonly, your pussy on display for him.

“Naughty girl,” Jack growls, cupping you between your legs before flicking his wrist back and spanking your soaked, dripping folds.

You nearly shriek in surprise.

“Fuck, again,” you whine, and he smacks your pussy with his palm, the slap echoing in your bedroom.

“Baby girl,” he purrs, pulling you upright and lining himself up. “Climb on.”

You let him support you, walking back to the wall for better leverage, and wrap both your legs around his hips as he sinks inside you. You feel completely full; his length hot and pulsing deep inside your body.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you whimper, and he starts to rock his hips, pressing you against the wall as he slides in over and over again, making you bounce on top of him. Your whole body shakes with the force of it, and each thrust punches out cries from the back of your throat.

“More, Daddy, please,” you moan, and he pins both your hands to the wall, hips rolling and driving him in deeper, harder, faster, until you cum so hard that all you can do is wail.

Your cries must have become hysterical at some point, because you feel him ease you down, kiss your cheeks and your lips at last, and gently guide you back to the tub. He drains a little water and warms up the bath, getting in behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“My baby girl,” he whispers, washcloth wiping tenderly over your body. You let him wash you slowly, taking care with every part of you, and helping you out of the tub once you’re rinsed clean. He pulls soft panties and pajamas out of your dresser, and you put them on, letting him squeeze your wet hair with the towel and kiss your neck.

Twenty minutes later, he’s changed into the sweatpants and t-shirt he brought over in his bag, and you’re curled up together on the sofa, your head resting against his chest. He feeds you pieces of popcorn from a bowl he popped while you picked out a movie to watch, and you settle in together, drifting off before long.

You’re dozing when he picks you up to carry you to bed, and you squeeze his hand as he rests you down on the mattress.

“Stay, Daddy?” You mumble sleepily.

Jack climbs into bed, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips.

“Of course, baby girl,” he says. “As long as you want.”

#agent whiskey

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

Text

Reason to Breathe

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 4.9k (yeah this got away from me lol)

Warnings: HOLY SHIT SMUT (18+ ONLY!), sex pollen, fuck or die, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, so much sex lol, pining, protective!Joel, softness, love confessions, no use of y/n (hopefully I covered everything, let me know if I forgot something)

Notes: I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while now and I’m so excited to share this! I’m a sucker for the sex pollen between two people pining and it works so well with Joel too! And yeah, this is long by my standards but after multiple edits I’m happy with it! Let me know what y’all think!! And that one line near the end is 100% me making fun of myself for the premise I came up with here lol.

Feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Joel?”

He let out a sigh as he leaned against his horse, “For Ellie’s sake, I gotta try.”

A group of passersby mentioned a research lab while you hosted them for drinks at the bar last night, and it immediately got Joel’s attention. He quickly asked more about it, and although the men were fuzzy on the details, there seemed to be a lab not too far away that was researching a cure.

Or at least, that’s what the rumor was. Either way it was enough for Joel, and he wanted to check it out. He didn’t mention anything to Ellie yet until he was sure, but he knew he had to at least give it a chance.

“Then I’m going with you,” you spoke in a resolved tone as you threw your gear on your own horse, “Someone’s gotta watch after you.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, but you could see in his eyes that he was secretly relieved you decided to join him, “Alright.”

Keep reading

#joel miller

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

Text

“Hey I love your story! Is it okay if I draw-“

YES. PLEASE, GOD, YES, DRAW IT. DRAW IT AND SHOW ME. I WILL BEG YOU FOR IT.

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

Text

I was laying in bed last night trying to sleep during a raging storm when a stupid scenario popped into my head that made me laugh. I can't write to save my life, so I thought I'd share the gist of the thing.

----

You and (I picture Din) have to take shelter from a storm in a crappy inn on some backwater planet. There is only one room of course, and it doesn't have much to offer other than a broken down mattress with a big dip in the middle and a crappy heater that providws little warmth. You both agree it's better than being outside so you take it.

Din wants to be Din and have you take the bed while he sleeps on the floor, but you think that's foolish and that you can share the bed. You tell him that you can each keep to your respective sides and sleep back-to-back. He reluctantly agrees to your proposal because he has a bad back.

The heater doesn't do much, other than make noise, so you're both sleeping in your cloaks and under the blanket. While you're sleeping the heater makes a loud knocking noise startling you awake, only for you to realize that you've both fallen victim to the big dip in the bed.

Here's where it gets stupid...

You discover that you both slid into the dip and now your rumps have pressed together. Nothing else, just rear ends smooshed up against each other.

You're horrified because this man has a HUGE personal space bubble and now your ass has intruded into that space. You want to move, but are afraid that by doing so you'll wake him up drawing attention to the pressing matter. You lay there for a few minutes to try and tell if the heater woke him, but it's impossible to tell. You decide to take your chances and shift yourself but are having a hell of a time because the dip in the mattress is working against you. You finally manage to shift yourself a few inches and think you're in the clear when you hear Din quietly laughing.

#din djarin

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

Text

A New Years To Remember {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Weddings, receptions, throwing the bouquet, cutting the cake, first dances, New Year’s kisses, drinking, tipsy but both parties consent, Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, squirting, multiple orgasms, confessions.

Comments: Your best friend is getting married to Marcus’ best friend on New Year’s Eve. Even though you introduced the couple, you aren’t experiencing the same happy ever after. Unless the wedding reception and a kiss at midnight can change that.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

You adjust the bride’s veil, admiring her dress in the mirror as she tries to not cry. “You look beautiful, Maddie” You smile and she turns around to hug you. “Careful. Mind your hair” You remind her and she leans back.

“Thank you. I just- in so happy you’re here and you’re my maid of honor” She coos.

“You know I’d always be here for today” You assure her.

“Plus the best man wasn’t a bad incentive for her” Your friend Sara jokes.

You fluster and shake your head, “Marcus and I are just friends.”

Everyone scoffs and the bride shakes her head. “Everyone can see how you look at each other. You need to make a move. Finally! How long has it been?” She asks.

“Since the academy” You confess, “but he was married then.”

Sara tuts, “he isn’t married now.” You sigh and before you can respond, the father of the bride arrives to announce its time for the bride to get married.

Keep reading

#marucs pike

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 2 years

Note

Stop you from writing Kylo smut? Honey, I'm actively encouraging you to. I'mma be a terrible influence and put the thot of angry, mid sparring sex. Ya boy would be so easy to rile up when he doesn't have the upper hand. It's that petulant Skywalker stubbornness shining through.

surrender

pairing || Kylo Ren x F!Reader

word count || 3,785

summary || After months of tension, all it takes is an elbow to the ribs to get Kylo Ren to fuck you.

content || sparring turned fucking, somewhat public sex, dry humping, one singular spank, rough fucking on the floor like a couple of animals, inappropriate use of the force, mirror sex, degradation, praise, gendered language [good girl], a hint of titty worship.

a/n || will I ever stop writing gruff, angry men as secret softies? no. will I apologize? also no. thank you guys for sticking with me through my crazy schedule and writers block - i love you guys

Main Masterlist | Join the taglist!

You feel his eyes on you before you see him. There’s an undeniable sharpness to his eyes, to the way his gaze pierces through your body to your very core. It used to bother you how easily he could peek inside your head, but you’ve grown begrudgingly used to it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t annoy the shit out of you, though.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Kylo’s voice rings out through the otherwise empty training room, bounces off of the mirrored walls and wraps you in sharp irritation. He sounds monotone, almost bored - but you’ve come to read him just as well as he reads you. The glance you give him shows you a slightly quirked eyebrow, the corner of his mouth ticked up in the ghost of a smirk. That’s all it takes to tell you what he’s there for: to be an annoying little shit. “Your stance is too wide. You’re leaving yourself wide open.”

You don’t bother responding or moving to adjust your stance in front of the punching bag. For fucks sake, you just wanted to squeeze a workout in before bed, a vain hope it would make you exhausted enough to finally get a good night’s rest. There isn’t enough patience in the entire galaxy for you to put up with him right now, not when you’re so frustrated and tired.

Kylo doesn’t particularly care, apparently.

Two strong hands settle high on your waist and forcibly shift your stance, his foot pushing yours until your feet are closer together, and his touch sends heat flaring through your entire body, a confusing mix of irritation and desire. You force it down and grit your teeth against the familiar need that awakens in your belly. It’s just the sleepless nights, you tell yourself. That’s why he seems more irresistible than ever - the sleepless nights and the lack of a real sex life.

Kylo’s hands leave your waist and for a mere moment, you think you’re in the clear, but they simply travel up to your shoulders and roll them back, pushing your chest out further inadvertently. You glance up to the mirrored wall, finally meeting his gaze as his touch lingers. Neither of you are blind to the dance you’re partaking in. The give and the take, the poor excuses to get your hands on each other, the aching desire cloaked as annoyance. It’s all about who breaks first, who turns away from the facade and gives in to the base needs that threaten to consume you both.

It won’t be you, not tonight. The elbow you send back into his ribs makes sure of that.

Kylo stumbles slightly, surprised by your sudden switch, and it gives you just enough time to whirl around and step back out of his grasp. You can’t help but smirk at his darkening expression, that familiar spark of angry lust gleaming in his eyes.

“Seems like I can handle myself just fine, Kylo.” You shrug once there’s a few steps of space between you.

He doesn’t bother giving a snarky reply, to your surprise. Your heart starts racing, a heady mix of lust and adrenaline lighting up your nerves and pulsing through you with every deliberate step forward he takes. There’s no fear to be found; in some weird, twisted way, you trust him. Kylo won’t hurt you, not beyond the bruises you always sport from sparring with him. His strength is tempered just above your own, enough to overpower you but not cause you serious harm, and maybe that is what makes this so intoxicating for you.

That strength of his. He could kill you with a single swipe from one of his huge hands, from the preternatural power that his sharp mind possesses, but he’s careful with you in a way that makes you want to both kick his ass and kiss his stupid, pretty face. That confusion clouds your mind and of course, Kylo takes advantage.

He lunges for you, barely managing to capture you in his arms as you try too late to sidestep him, and you flail for a second, your legs thrashing as he crushes your arms to your sides. You aren’t too proud to admit that it’s mere luck that you manage to land a solid kick to the weak spot on his leg and make him topple, using your combined weight to your advantage and dragging him down to the ground.

Kylo wastes no time in pressing you onto your back, one thick thigh swinging over your body to straddle your waist as he simultaneously slams your wrists above your head in a bruising grip. There’s a triumphant smirk on his face, but little does he know - that’s right where you want him. Your mind almost runs with the possibilities, that sinful notion rising in the back of your mind that you could kiss him right here and end the torturous tension, but you can’t let him win. Your pride won’t let you. It’s a fluid flurry of movement, something so well-practiced that it’s become muscle memory. You buck your hips up harshly, tossing him forward off of his balance, and the moment his hands leave your arms, you strike.

One arm wraps around the forearm he has braced next to your head and the other shoves at his shoulder, all while your leg hooks around his. You wrench your body to the side with all of your strength, desperately trying to focus on pinning him rather than the sinful press of your hips to his, and the dull thud of his body hitting the mat has victory singing in your veins. The momentum keeps you going, brings you up onto your hands and knees, and just as you’re about to scramble to your feet to get some space between your adrenaline soaked bodies, his hand wraps around your ankle and pulls.

It’s a smart move, one that makes you falter just long enough for him to gain the upper hand once more. Fuck, he’s fast, faster than his broad frame should allow. Kylo’s arms wrap around your waist and he’s on you in no time, his chest pressed to your back. Your mind is racing for an answer, anything you can use against him to get yourself out of this vulnerable position that makes your knees and your pussy ache all at once. This display of strength makes you shudder as you give a useless shove - and you feel it.

The sweatpants he wears do nothing to hide the erection that grinds against your ass, and Kylo doesn’t even bother biting back his groan. He arches further into you in a stuttered, instinctual thrust of his hips, and you can feel your pretense break. It crumbles pathetically, and the flood of need is free to flow through you completely. Pride be damned - you need him to fucking ruin you. Another strangled groan from the man caging you against the floor tells you he was peeking into your mind, an attempt to see your reaction to the culmination of months of pining without having to actually ask. The fluttering pressure inside your skull only confirms that, a familiar feeling you’ve come to associate with him.

Kylo manhandles your body, pushes and pulls until you’re on your back, and your thighs spread to welcome him as he settles over you. The two of you lock eyes and for a breath, you’re struck breathless at the sight of him. You’ve seen this man in countless situations. You’ve seen him annoyed, enraged, injured. You’ve seen him in the heat of battle and you’ve seen him hopelessly broken after a defeat. The light in his eyes brings you an entirely new perspective. It's hunger. Need. Something animalistic and clawing for release.

Kylo doesn’t hesitate to slot his lips over yours in a desperate kiss. You concede without thought, letting the white flag of your surrender unfurl as your own hunger consumes any thought that isn’t the constant thrum of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. It pulses through you, urges you to let him take you however he wants. Every time you imagined this, you saw yourself giving a good fight for control, even though you know it to be futile, but you can’t bother to put up the front. His touch is too compelling, soothes the burning hunger you’ve felt for too long, and he knows it too. You can feel the smugness practically radiating off of him and if you weren’t so lost in the dance of his deep kisses, you wouldn’t let him get away with it.

You guide him closer with a squeeze of your thighs in a wordless plea for more and Kylo gives without a second thought. He lowers his hips against you and a groan rips from deep in his chest when you grind up along his cock. The layers of clothes that separate you do little to curb how desperate you are for the friction you’ve craved for so long. He’s wild-eyed when he breaks the kiss to watch you, to drink in the way you take your pleasure. The sight he makes is almost better than the feeling of length against your aching core. Hazel irises almost entirely consumed by the dark depths of his blown out pupils, Kylo catches his breath and lets his hands settle on your hips to take in your slow, rhythmic pace.

The rest of the world ceases to exist. Kylo has never felt so singularly focused in his life. The buzzing of otherworldly chaos he's so fine-tuned to feel fades in the presence of your body against his. You’re just so beautiful, your eyes half-lidded and gazing up at him with that hazy look of want. You want him. He swallows harshly, entirely unused to the warm feelings welling in his chest. The need to distract himself itches through him so he tilts your head and busies himself in leaving a reminder of this night on your throat and matching the slow rock of your hips.

“God, I fucking hate you.” You grit out through the sharp pleasure-pain of his teeth and tongue working to cover your neck in his marks. In stark contrast to your words, your fingers curl in his hair to hold him close, to keep him right where he can give you all the attention you crave.

“I don’t tolerate lying.” He murmurs against your throat, one hand shoving down the front of your yoga pants, and you can feel a smirk curl his lips at the way you gasp. Two thick fingers tease your slick core. “You’re so wet for someone who hates me so much. I bet I can fuck you just like this, so desperate for my cock.”

A whine of frustration falls from your lips as his hand yanks out of your pants just as quickly as he put it there, but you don’t have long to be upset. Kylo’s fingers curl around the waistband and manage to get your pants down to your midthigh before he realizes the predicament before him. To get them off of you, he would have to move. The idea of retreating from your warm touch is unthinkable, not now that he’s finally gotten to feel you like he wants. In a split-second decision, Kylo wrenches the thin fabric in his fists and tears it down the middle to simply roll the tattered pieces down your legs.

It’s okay. He knows he’ll just get you new ones, left on your bed in a neatly folded pile in lieu of an apology.

“You, too.” You urge him on as you tackle your shirt and sports bra, not wanting to give him the chance to ruin those, too. He’s almost graceful as he reaches back to pull his shirt over his head and you want to say something cheeky, to tease him and get him ramped up in that intensity again, but the moment he shoves his sweatpants down his hips, you’re dumbstruck.

His cock arches up towards his toned stomach, flushed red and twitching with need. Fuck, he’s big, way bigger than you’re used to. You could always tell he was packing just by the way he fucking walks - not just the sheer confidence, but his nearly lumbering gait gave him away. You just know you’ll be able to feel him for days once he’s through with you. The urge to tease your tongue along the vein that runs along the underside of his cock strikes you hard, and Kylo chuckles. You realize with a start that you’ve been caught staring and an embarrassed heat rushes your face.

“Don’t worry, pet,” Kylo murmurs, that damned cocky smirk on his face. “Next time. For now… I just want to feel you.”

Next time. You barely have a second to understand the implications of his words before he’s dragging you in for another kiss that steals your breath, leaves you dizzy and wanting more even though you can feel the air burning out of your lungs. Part of you is surprised he hasn’t just buried himself inside of you without preamble, and as much as you know you would enjoy it, you can tell how much he needs this. Not just the release of fucking you into oblivion, but the touch. The caress of your fingers as they dance down his rib to hold him close. The playful nip of your teeth against his plump bottom lip and the swipe of your tongue to soothe the little mark you leave there. He smiles against your lips, something almost soft.

It’s like the roaring blaze of need has been tamed, calmed into a warm glow, and it’s nice. You like it, of course, but you want the Kylo Ren that had no issue in provoking you into a fight, in pinning you to the ground with that bruising grip. You want him to fuck you, to leave bruises on your skin and your fucking soul, to mark you as his in every way. Kylo groans as he leans back, his eyes roving over your face like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

“That’s what you want, hm? To be fucked like a whore?” He bites out, hunger and anticipation burning in his eyes. You whimper at his harsh words and he scoffs as if he isn’t after the exact same thing. “And to think I was going to be gentle with you.”

“Like you said…” You say breathlessly. “Next time.”

That seems to spark the reaction you want because Kylo goes fucking feral. Your head spins as he flips you over onto your belly, his impatient hands pulling you up onto your knees. You try to bring yourself up onto your hands to steady yourself but Kylo isn’t having that; he plants a hand between your shoulder blades and shoves, pinning you face down against the floor. A shiver wracks down your spine at the pure vulnerability of it all. You’re completely at his will, unable and unwilling to do anything but take whatever he gives you.

Kylo gropes and kneads at your ass greedily, like he’s never felt something so soft and plush before and he wants to destroy it. You feel him shuffle behind you, widening his stance on his knees as he lines himself up, and you don’t even get the chance to tense up over the fact that he’s going to fuck you without bothering to prep you with his fingers. He slides into you in one fluid thrust, not stopping until he’s buried so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. It hurts so fucking good. The stretch steals your voice, steals the very air from your lungs and leaves you gasping like you’ve just broken the surface of the violent, crashing ocean of pleasure that threatens to drown you.

He stills like the idea of leaving your heat for even a second is unfathomable, his hands squeezing your hips like he’s trying to ground himself. It’s intoxicating to know you have this effect on him, that the warm fluttering of your cunt is enough to make such a sharp mind go entirely blank.

“Kylo…” You whine, finally finding your voice through the fog of pleasure that curls in your belly. “Kylo, please.”

“Little fucking whore.” Kylo growls. The words alone would have been enough to make you writhe, but it’s the low timbre of his voice as he spits them that really does you in. It has you whining brokenly and arching your back deeper, as if your offering of your body, of your submission, would be enough for him to grant you salvation. All it does is earn you a sharp smack to your ass, one that makes you whimper his name again. “That’s right, say my fucking name.”

The moment you open your mouth to comply, Kylo draws back and slams into you, and the only thing that can leave your mouth is a pathetic moan. He sets a sharp pace, pulling you back by your hips to meet his thrusts. The training room echoes with the filth it, the harsh sound of Kylo Ren fucking you like he hates you. Every thrust grinds against that spot inside of you that makes black spots dance across your vision from the sheer ecstasy of it all, and you can feel the pressure building almost embarrassingly fast. The effect he has on you is undeniable. Your body aches, begs for his attention.

One of his hands leaves your waist and before you can beg him to use it between your legs, it winds in your hair and wrenches your head up from where you buried your face in your arms. The angle strains your neck uncomfortably and Kylo scoffs at the little whimper that falls from your lips.

“Look at yourself,” He spits. You finally get your eyes to focus and the mirrored image you see in front of you makes heat flush through your body. It’s almost fascinating to watch Kylo fuck you like his life depends on it, a sheen of sweat on his skin as he works you over. Taut muscles tense and ripple, the image of a god taking out his pleasures on his worshiper. “You look so beautiful like this… on your knees for me, right where you fucking belong.”

The possessiveness that rips through his voice has your cunt tightening around him, aching for that last push to send you into ecstasy. Your thighs tremble beneath you and if you weren’t certain you would collapse, you’d let your fingers finish the job. Something tells you Kylo wouldn’t let you get that far even if you tried.

“Please,” Your voice breaks around the single syllable.

“Please, what?” He coos, voice full of mock sympathy that leaves you shuddering.

“Please let me cum,” You plead. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and you see his shoulders soften minutely, a hint of the man who had been kissing you so deeply just moments before.

“You sound so pretty when you beg.” He groans.

You’re about to beg some more, to promise him anything he wants in the fucking galaxy if he just lets you cum, when a flush of warmth laves against your clit. Your brain fucking short circuits, confusion and almost unbearable pleasure coursing through your body and leaving you a muddled mess. It takes a second for the wires to come uncrossed, but even then you’re barely able to piece two thoughts together.

“Are you - i-is that… ah, fuck!” You choke out, your eyes rolling under the double assault of his cock and the fucking Force buzzing at your clit.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Kylo groans. That voice is fucking sinful, almost as addictive as the pleasure he wrings from your body. The hand in your hair gives you a little shake, forces you to open your eyes. “Watch yourself when you fucking cum for me.”

White hot pleasure shreds through you, your body convulsing beneath him as an uncontrollable moan rips from your throat so harshly it leaves you hoarse. His hand finally relents his hold in your hair and you can’t stop yourself from collapsing beneath him, but he follows you, cages you against the floor with his chest to your back as he ruts into your fucked out body like a man possessed. His voice is low in your ear as he moans your name, making you shudder at the rough, untempered need. Kylo cums deep, shoves himself as far as your body allows as he fucks you through both of your devastating orgasms.

Kylo shushes your soft whimper as he pulls out and drops to the floor beside you, his chest rising and falling sharply as he tries to catch his breath. Despite barely being able to feel your legs, you manage to press yourself into his side and sate the need to feel his skin against yours. He lifts his arm, welcomes you into his embrace in the way his arm wraps around you tightly. The bliss leaves you floating, feeling soft and needy in a way you haven’t felt in so long, something you didn’t realize you were missing until you got it again. Your lips meet his throat in a gentle kiss and you can feel his happy hum vibrate against you.

You smile at the sound and eagerly give him more, trailing down the ridge of scar tissue that came far too close to taking his life. You can remember how hesitant he was to let you help him, how he stared up at you with guarded eyes as you applied medicine and dressing to the wound. It’s a far cry from the intimacy you’re sharing with him now, almost amusing in the stark contrast. Now Kylo closes his eyes under your gentle affection, trusts you in such a vulnerable, spent state that he’s close to falling asleep right there on the training room floor.

Just because he’s tired doesn’t mean he isn’t paying you any attention. He holds you close, arm wrapped tightly around you, and the position leaves your chest pressed against his side, bringing his attention to your breasts. Really, he had neglected him as he fucked you, which he finds himself regretting. You're so soft all over, but especially here and he can’t help but let his fingertips skim the slope of your breast, ghosting over your nipple until it perks up under the attention. A needy little noise slips from you when he rolls your nipple between his fingers. Kylo’s lips twitch up into a smile.

“I think you’re going soft on me.” He murmurs.

“Shut up, Kylo.”

{tags}

@litakino @stardust-galaxies @over300books

#Kylo Ren

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