Me In A Nutshell

she knows what nancy listens to.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 | 𝐫.𝐥

word count: 1.8k

summary: after seeing you clad in his sweater, remus’ size kink starts to kick in, leading to a rather eventful afternoon

warnings: size kink, daddy kink, dom/sub roles, use of the nickname bunny, fingering, degradation, face slapping (only if you squint,) slight overstim, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), belly bulge,

a/n: i’m so tired so i’m so sorry for any mistakes or typos, also this wasn’t intended to be a short!reader, remus is canonically very tall so you could also be tall and still be smaller than him

what was supposed to be an innocent study date with your boyfriend in his dorm, was escalating to much more. as soon as you walked in the room and he noticed you were wearing his sweater, something ignited in him, and his plans were quickly changed.

he was much taller than you, so his clothes inevitably engulfed you; the sweater you were wearing drooped almost fully down to your thighs; it drove him wild.

the way you were much smaller than him was one of his biggest turn ons; his mind went back to all of the nights you’ve spent together, letting him manhandle you or watching as he was able to leave a stomach bulge with his cock.

“look so cute wearing my sweater, bunny” he says softly, rubbing his up and down your thigh. even at the slightest bit of praise, your cheeks flush and you already feel yourself starting to slowly slip into your submissive headspace. “wore it for you daddy” you purr, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“yeah? just for me?” he asks condescendingly, and you only nod in response. “words y/n” he chastises sternly. “you know how you’re supposed to respond to me, bunny. don’t act bratty” he scowls.

“y-yes, wore it just for you” you whimper, looking at him with big doe eyes, worried that you’ve just upset him. “m’sorry daddy, m’ your good girl, promise” you assure, twiddling with your fingers.

“yeah? you’re still my good girl? can you prove it, show daddy how much of a good girl you can be?” he asks softly. you nod your head eagerly and he laughs.

he gets up off the bed and hooks his hands under your thighs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed to where only your legs are hanging off. as he begins to strip himself of his clothing, you sit up and start to take off your his sweater off, but he’s quick to stop you.

“leave it on” he orders, “wanna fuck my precious little bunny in it.” you blush at his lewd words, doing as he says and keeping it on but unzipping your skirt, taking it off and tossing it onto the floor. you wait for him to finish undressing, an impatient whine emitting from your mouth as you feel yourself growing needier and needier.

“want your cock, daddy” you whimper once he’s finally stripped down to only his boxers. “i know but you gotta be patient, bun” he coos, tapping your hip, signaling for you to lift your hips up so that he’s able to drag your panties down your legs, and you obey.

“gotta get you ready for my cock” he says, dragging your panties all the way down to your ankles before discarding them to the floor. “needa get you all nice and stretched out first” he says, spreading your legs, putting your cunt on display; it’s glistening with your own juices, the sight making a small groan leave his lips.

“already so wet f’me and we haven’t even started” he taunts, slowly dragging two of his fingertips up your folds, feeling your slick. bucking your hips, looking for more friction, you attempt to grind against his fingers. “such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” he tuts.

“y-yes, m’your needy little sl—“ you cut yourself off with a gasp as you feel him push one finger inside of you, then another, before he starts pumping them in and out. “f-fuck, daddy” you cry as your e/c eyes roll back.

remus has tried teaching you how to get off with your own fingers before, but you realized it’s not nearly as pleasurable as whenever he does it. his fingers were much bigger and longer than yours, reaching spots inside of you that you’d never be able to find on your own.

“yeah? bet it feels much better than your little fingers in there, hm?” he says, speeding up his pace. “much b-better, daddy” you mewl breathily. “i bet” he coos, a patronizing type of tone lacing his voice. “can feel you clenching around them, bun. you like daddy’s big fingers, don’t you?” he taunts. “y-yes, l-love them.”

he begins scissoring his fingers inside of you as he moves his thumb to your bundle of nerves, rubbing figure eights to heighten your pleasure even more.

“fuck” you mewl, back arching up from the mattress. “watch your mouth, bunny” he warns, swatting your cheek with his free hand. “m’sorry, d-daddy, just felt s-so good” you blubber between pants and breathy moans. “s’not an excuse” he scolds. “now be good.”

he starts to pick up the pace, now knuckles deep, and your hand grips onto his wrist as he continues his assault on your pussy, curling his fingers so that they prod at your g-spot mercilessly and repeatedly.

“daddy, f-feels so g-good” you whine, body starting to quiver. “i know, can feel you clenching around my fingers, love” he says, knowing that you’re close to the brink of your orgasm. “keep taking them, baby.”

“c-can’t!” you cry. “m’so close, g-gonna cum soon!” “yes you can, just hold on a little bit longer” he coos, just wanting to watch you squirm, to see how long he can drag this out.

the fact that he’s speeding up his pace on your clit is not helping, and you’re wondering if you’re going to cum without his permission, not sure if you can hold it much longer.

“p-please! please daddy!” you cry, hands clutching onto the bedsheets. “please what?” he taunts with a smirk. “p-please l-let me cum, let me c-cum for you.”

and finally, he gives in.

“alright, give it to me, bunny. cum for daddy, bun.”

just seconds later, a wave of euphoria washes over you. you’ve reached your orgasm and the coil feeling in your stomach has snapped, you just came all over his fingers, leaving them coated in your juices, a mixture of your slick and cum.

after slowly pulling them out, he brings them up to your lips. “suck” he orders, pushing his fingers past them, making you taste yourself. “good girl, baby he praises, admiring your content expression, your eyes closed as you suck on his fingers. then after a few more seconds he pulls them out, making you whine.

“don’t act bratty, you were the one who wanted my cock and now you’re getting it” he chastises through gritted teeth as he pulls down his boxers, freeing his painfully erect cock. “besides you said you wanted to show me how you’re a good girl, hm?” he patronizes, reflecting back onto the conversation you had earlier.

“now, are you gonna take my cock like a good little whore?” he asks, tapping the swollen head against your clit, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making you squirm. “yes daddy” you respond softly.

he pushes the sweater up to your mid stomach as he languidly stokes his cock, lining himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing himself in, and after giving you a moment to adjust he begins his thrusts.

remus was big, there was no doubt about that, and he always took a second to get used to. even though you’ve been together for a good amount of time, the initial stretch still makes you gasp.

“s-sensitive, daddy” you whimper, still recovering from your previous orgasm. “i know, but you can handle it, baby” he encourages. “be a good girl, remember?”

“such a tight little pussy, bun” he grunts. “s-so big, daddy” you whimper, feeling yourself clench around him at his words, indulging in the way he completely stretches you out. “yeah? such a big cock for such a small little pussy, hm? s’like you were made for me.”

“m-made for you” you echo, your head lolling to the side as you watch the brunette boy above you, little gasps leaving your lips everytime you feel him reach an even deeper spot inside of you—if even possible.

“feel you in my t-tummy” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut as you grip onto his biceps, pulling him closer. he glances down at your stomach, watching in awe as the imprint of his cock bulges your skin with each thrust. “fuck” he groans at the sight, placing a hand over the bulged skin, feeling himself go in and out of you.

“s’in my tummy, daddy” you breathe, your eyes rolling back while you grip onto his biceps. “i know, baby, look” he coos, placing his hand over the bulged skin, feeling his cock go in and out of you with every thrust. “look at how deep i’m fucking you, bunny.”

you glance down to where you two are connected, and then to your stomach, watching as the imprint of his cock presses against your abdomen, bulging the skin, before locking eyes with him again.

remus could have sworn that the sight below him was one of the most beautiful he’s ever seen: his girlfriend splayed on the bed below, mouth agape with her brows slightly furrowed, her flushed cheeks and messy hair, the look in her eyes as he fucked her into oblivion. it was the most perfect sight.

“s-so deep, daddy” you mumble, head falling back onto the mattress as you feel yourself about to reach your climax, your legs beginning to shake. moving his thumb to your clit, he starts rubbing circles, trying to bring you to your second orgasm of the night as he feels his starting to approach too, every noise that leaves your lips bringing him closer and closer.

“i know, love” he coos, a loud groan leaving his mouth shortly after as he feels you clench around him, much tighter than you have before, signaling that you’re close, so he speeds up his circles on your clit, making a breathy moan escape from your lips.

“g-getting close, close daddy” you babble, looking up at him with wide eyes. you’re already sensitive from your previous orgasm, so you’re trying hard not to cum, knowing that you’re not allowed unless you have permission.

“i know, baby” he pants, thrusts beginning to get sloppier. “you’ve been such a good girl for me” he murmurs.

you pull him closer by his shoulders and he rests his face into the crook of your neck, the feeling his hot breath fanning against your neck making you shiver.

“g-gonna cum” you whimper. “gonna cum, p-please let m-me cum for daddy.” he moans, your pleads and whimpers making his cock twitch, letting you know that he’s about to finish too. “cum, make a mess all over my cock baby” he breathes. “cum all over my cock” he says, giving you permission to finish.

a sting of curse words and his name leave your mouth like a mantra, back arching up from the mattress as you reach your orgasm, a bright flash of white light clouding your vision as you cum, remus following shortly after, filling you up with his seed.

after taking a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath, he slowly pulls out of you. “what do you think? maybe i should wear your clothes more often” you tease, making him chuckle. “i wouldn’t mind” he admits. “round 2?” “round 2” you say in agreement.

Attachment

gif from @bestintheparsec

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

word count: 6.5

rating: e (minors take a hike dni)

song inspo: what once was by her’s

summary: the mandalorian confides with you about something that’s been weighing heavily on his mind and you remind him of what truly matters

warnings: tbobf spoilers, slight angst, language, tension™️, smut, thigh riding, improper use of beskar armor, fingering, praise kink, piv unprotected sex (wrap it up), mild dom/sub

author’s note: y’all asked for a part two for Distraction and i did👏🏽not👏🏽hesitate👏🏽 to write this. this takes place between ep 5 and 6 of tbobf and goes a tiny bit divergent. plus din deserves a lil tlc for what he’s been through and i’ve been dipping my fingers into writing smut so i hope you guys enjoy! 👌🏽✨

He comes and goes. You don’t see him often and you try not to care too much. But each time, he’s away longer and stays shorter. Having no idea when his next visit comes. Which would be fine, if the times he was here weren’t so… confusing.

Sure, you flirted and he flirted back. But nothing really happened. It was harmless fun. And it’s not like you were twiddling your thumbs waiting for him. You had a life. Albeit, a steady life with not much room for excitement. You went out occasionally, went to cantinas and let people buy you drinks. You never went home with anyone though. And you’ve been ignoring the reason why.

It’s not like you were saving yourself. You’re not waiting around for him to sweep you off your feet. There have been plenty of advances from strangers and you’ve maybe entertained the notion of having a roll in the sand with someone. But you haven’t. You can’t. They’re not him.

You throw yourself into your work, giving yourself hardly anytime for intrusive thinking. Peli doesn’t necessarily spare you work, but even she tries to relieve you of busy work that doesn’t need immediate attention. Calling it “droid work.”

“I don’t mind,” you lie, “more experience.”

It’s been 6 months since the test flight. Since you’ve been off-planet. Since he touched you the way he did that late night building the starfighter. He comes once in a while for repairs and maintenance. The repairs are always minor and take less than a day, which makes you wonder why he wouldn’t just put it off. He’s a busy man, and he doesn’t need to come as often as he does. So why does he bother?

He’s always respectful and stoic and still always so serious, it makes you laugh to yourself. You’ve gotten to know him over time. Learning about his travels, how much he loved the crest despite it being a wreck most of the time. But mostly he talked about his kid. How he found him, his powers, his insatiable hunger which made you laugh. Each story he told you made you feel… transported. You felt the excitement, the danger, and you found yourself replaying them in your mind when you couldn’t sleep. Which confronted you with a hard truth.

The Mandalorian was more often than not that last thing you thought of before falling asleep.

•

The music blares from your stereo, the sound fills the entire garage at full blast as you work. The table it rests on rumbles with each beat, rattling loose tools and bolts and you’re in your own world. You got it in a trade a few months ago from some Jawas in exchange for some spare parts and it hasn’t seen a day without use. It helps you focus on your work and shut out your thoughts.

The speeder you’re working on has been a bitch to repair. You’re half covered in grease, the top of your coveralls rolled down to your waist, pulling out corroded parts from underneath. It’s nearing the end of the day and you’re dying for a break. If you could just…get this… damn… bolt…out…

The rusty bolt breaks loose without warning and oil comes pouring out, splashing thickly onto your tank top. You let out a curse, quickly crawling out of the way and setting the bucket next to you under the stream. You rise to your feet and groan in frustration. “Fuck this speeder!” You blurt out. You look down to your chest covered in thick black oil, long burnt inside the oil pan, the pungent smell burns the hairs in your nose. Shit. It was one of your favorites, too…

The garage is an open space but there’s no one here with you. So, you don’t think twice about taking off your shirt, no rag is gonna save it. Once over your head, you toss it across the room , exposing just the black breast band around your torso. You sigh as you walk to the table and look for another bolt and a matching wrench to cap the oil pan once it finishes draining. You figure that’s enough work for today. The owner won’t come for another couple days anyway. And Peli won’t be back until-

A hand brushes your arm from behind and your adrenaline spikes. Grabbing the heavy wrench, you twist around ready to swing hard when a firm leather hand grips your wrist to a halt above your head. You freeze and all you see is silver.

“Good to see you, too!” Mando shouts over the loud music.

You exhale deeply. Your tense muscles feel they’re about to give out completely. Maker, you hate when he does that. He releases your wrist and you quickly turn off your stereo.

“You have one more time to fucking scare me like that,” you huff, still trying to catch your breath. He just blows a laugh through his nose.

“Sorry, I just landed a minute ago,” and he points his thumb behind him. You lean to the side to peek behind his shoulder and, sure enough, you see the N-1 parked on the far side of the hangar. How the hell did you miss that?

“I tried yelling but you seemed…,” Distracted? “…busy.” And he does that signature tilt of his helmet and your chest aches.

You chuckle, trying to seem like you got your head screwed on right. “So,” you twist around to the work table, dropping the wrench, “what’d you break this time, shiny?” Grabbing a rag, you try to wipe off some of the grease and oil from your arms, only for it to spread around more.

“Nothing this time,” he leans back against the nose of the speeder and crosses his arms. “I have business in Mos Espa tomorrow and I thought I’d pay you a visit.” Pay you a visit? No business?

“Peli isn’t here,” you keep your focus on scrubbing your arms. “She had some business on the other side of town. Won’t be back for a couple days.” You decidedly give up on cleaning yourself, tossing the rag on the table and turning to face him with a hand on your hip.

And he’s silent again. His crossed arms make his shoulders look broader. He keeps his visor on you, tilting his helmet curiously to the side. Is he gonna say something? You give him a half-smile and raise your eyebrows slightly, signaling to him that you’re waiting for a response.

“You dress like that often?”

Your cheeks flush. Not at your starkness, but the fact that he’s pointed it out to you makes you wonder how long he’s been watching you. How long was he standing there? Was he there watching when you peeled that tank top off? It’s not like he’s averting his eyes from you at all. He’s not shy about it. And neither are you.

“Oh,” you look down at your torso, pretending you completely forgot. You start pulling up the top part of your worn grey coveralls and place the short sleeves back on your shoulders, but you don’t bother to zip it closed.

“Not really,” you tease, “just for well paying customers.” A mischievous smile crosses your lips and it’s only then that he looks away and chuckles to himself. Hearing that sweet sound makes you realize how much you really missed him.

You take a seat next to him on the speeder, resting your arms behind you on the hood. You chew over what to say but Mando beats you to it. “It’s been a while,” he starts, “everything ok?” He sounds suddenly stern. The air becomes heavy, like you both know the answer. Your legs kick as they dangle from the edge.

“Things are pretty dangerous around here.” Your eyes are cast downward. “It’s not safe to go out at night with the Pykes around. They’re relentless, things won’t go back to normal until they’re gone.”

“Are you safe?” The words leave his mouth without hesitation. He faces you and gently places his hand on top of yours, trying to convey how important your answer is to him. After a few moments, your name slips past his lips and your whole being is softened.

“I’m a big girl, Mando. I can protect myself.” Taking his hand in yours, your thumb runs over his knuckles, the leather worn and soft.

“I know you can.” he speaks softly. Both of you, looking at the hands between you. Your hands mix and run over each other for a while. Enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence. His gloves are getting a little dirty from the oil, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Tell me about you,” you sigh, “Anything new?” Mando pauses. After a beat, he turns away and releases a sigh that makes your heart sink. Damn, that bad huh?

“Maker, it sounds like you need a drink,” you quip. He breathes a laugh through his nose and gives your hand a loving squeeze.

“I won’t say no to that,” he admits. You can hear his smile and, even though you can’t see it, it makes your own lips curl up. You slide off the hood of the speeder and turn on your heels to face him, patting the dust off your pants.

“There’s some cold ale in Peli’s office,” you offer. “It’s nothing fancy but it’s the only cold thing we’ve got besides water.” Mando nods then stands up straight to face you, sticking his thumb through the front of his belt. His helmet tilts down to you and his whole frame makes you feel so small. From his broad shoulders to his inky black visor peering down to you.

“I’m just… gonna grab a shower first. I’ll be back with the ales.” Looking up to his visor like this fills you with a weird mixture of timidness and excitement. And that familiar spark starts to burn in the pit of your stomach.

“I’ll wait here for you.”

A warm, gloved hand finds purchase under the curve of your chin and your stomach flips. And instantly you’re back in that cockpit months ago, aching for his fingers to wander around your throat. It’s always so hard when he does things like this.

“Kay’…,” you breathe. You smile warmly, holding the same hand and squeezing it. You almost want to cry as you pull away.

•

“I saw Grogu.”

Your head snaps to his direction. Mando looks forward with empty eyes. His thumb runs circles over the spout of the amber bottle in his hand.

You don’t remember exactly when this little ritual began. It just got comfortable enough between the two of you to share a drink together once in a while with his helmet removed. Usually, when it was after dark or behind closed doors. But these moments are held close to your chest. You felt honored to have earned his trust.

It’s past sunset. The burning orange sky now a hazy purple like smoke from a snuffed flame. You both sit back in the same garage on some crates arranged into some seats and a table. The “table” is littered with sabacc cards left behind by Peli and a few empty bottles of ale. The only source of light coming from a small metal fire pit. The fire crackles and pops as you and the Mandalorian sit side by side and talk.

After you cleaned up, you didn’t bother with your regular day clothes. Opting for comfort, since the day was over, you pulled on some soft shorts and a tank top. A warm wool blanket drapes over your shoulders and your bare toes dig into the sand.

“When?” Your voice is timid and low. It takes Mando a moment to answer. “‘Few months ago.” His voice doesn’t falter or waver. And, that’s what breaks your heart. Hiding his emotions has become a skill he’s perfected. A few months? Months he’s been keeping that inside?

“He didn’t see me,” he continues, taking another long swig of ale.

You search his eyes for an answer but his focus remains forward. As if locking eyes with you will crumble whatever wall he’s built to protect himself.

“Are you ok?” You regret your question almost instantly. Kind of an inconsiderate thing to say when the wound is open. How the fuck do you think? But he remains quiet. Probably still trying to figure out the answer for himself.

“What happened?” Your tone is hushed. You almost don’t want to ask him. You don’t want to overstep yourself. But it’s so clear that he’s been keeping something like this inside for far too long.

“In order to master his abilities, Jedi must forgo all attachment,” his words sound rehearsed, almost recited. “As much as I wanted to see him, I can’t ignore the fact that he’s safer with them.”

Your fingers grip around your bottle so tightly your knuckles almost turn white. He can’t think that’s true. It’s not.

“But, you love him,” you murmur. To you the words slip out so freely, it’s an easy equation. You don’t let go of the things you love. But he doesn’t turn. He doesn’t fight. His eyes just look down ahead of him.

“He’s better off.” Liar.

“No,” you blurt out, “That’s not true.” The words are out of your big mouth before you realize. And suddenly, you don’t give a shit about overstepping. You set your bottle on the crate and stand up in front of him, forcing him to face you.

“You are the one that saved him. You are the one who protected him. You were the only one that was there for him.” His eyes are blown wide as he watches you go off on your rant. “How can they take him and talk to you about attachment?” His fist clenches and his brows knot tightly.

“It was his choice, I can’t control-“

“Then they should give him that choice too. He’s just a child,” you plead. You don’t know why you’re so passionate about the subject. You have met neither Grogu nor any Jedi. But you have to believe that attachment isn't a weakness. You have to believe that Mando doesn’t think that.

“What about your creed? What about loyalty? You need. To go. Back.”

He bolts up. His figure looms over you with his chest puffed. You can practically see steam blow out his nostrils. His demeanor makes you freeze for a moment, but you’re stubborn. Finding your metal, you stand your ground.

“You don’t talk to me about my creed,” he snarls. His seething expression is something you hoped to never see. However unrealistic it may sound. But his eyes. His eyes betray him. You step closer to him as you continue to search into them, to beseech to him. He exhales sharply through his nose. His gloved hand rests on the base of your neck underneath the blanket still draped on your frame. Running his thumb on the side of your throat, like an apology.

“You are the last person I want to hurt,” his voice is low and hoarse and plunges through your chest like a knife. His jaw tenses, he tries to speak through his gritted teeth. “So, please… I need to do something right for once.” He’s at war with himself, it’s plain as day.

Calmly, your hands slowly lift up, resting your hands on his arm. His chest is still puffed but his temper diminishes. You let out a sigh that’s been stuck in your throat. You’re so tired. You have so many questions that you need answered and it’s impossible to ignore anymore.

“Then why are you here?” Am I still just your distraction? “Why do you come here and drink with me and touch me and… and…,” And leave. You release a shaky breath. “What are we doing, Mando?” Each word is more hushed than the last. Maker, you hate this. You hate feeling so vulnerable. Feeling your eyes sting, you bow your head down. Him seeing you cry just might kill you.

You give in and lean your forehead to his chest right above his cuirass. Feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. His fingers gently rub the back of your neck, the scent of his cape kisses your nose and you hate him. You really fucking hate him.

Mando exhales through his nose. You can feel the muscles in his arm tense just above his vambrace. For a while, all that’s heard in the air is the crackling of wood burning. After a few moments, he finally finds his words. “I just…need to protect you. I’ve lost my kid and my creed. I can’t lose you too.“

A ball lodges in your throat. Even after he pauses, you remain silent, waiting for him to continue. He’s always been so serious and you’d normally make fun of him for it. But you’ve never seen him so earnest.

“I’m a selfish man ,” he goes on, “And you deserve more. And If I’m not good enough for the kid then-“

“Stop,” you cut him off. It takes every bit of strength inside you to pull away from him but you do. His gloved hand moves to cup your jaw and your hand caresses the sliver of skin exposed underneath.

“You make it sound like everything is already decided,” the words spill freely from your lips and you’re not stopping, you can’t.

“I know you’re hurting. But I also know you don’t believe that being attached is a weakness. It’s not in your nature. It hurts because you’re important to each other. And you’re both going to wonder what could’ve been for the rest of your lives. You need to talk to him. Or it’ll be your biggest regret.”

And then it hits you like a fucking gut punch.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

His warm brown eyes are locked on to yours. Your neck cranes to match his attention and you’re completely frozen. His hand stalls beneath your jaw and you’re practically chest to chest. Your words were so blurred and you realize now that you hadn’t said Grogu’s name at all during your little speech. You really were speaking from the heart. His eyes grow wider with the realization. Are you talking to him or yourself?

Your cheeks are flushed red and your mouth is open before you can think. “For Grogu!” You stammer, the last thing you want him to think is that you’ve completely forgotten about his son. “You need to talk to Grogu! I mean if you think… if you feel like that with… I just want you to know that-“

Mando cuts you off mid sentence. It’s so quick that your mind takes a second to catch up. But without warning, his lips crash onto yours and it’s bliss. It’s gentle and warm and everything you’ve been craving since he first walked into your life. You melt under him and he cradles your head with both hands like you might slip through his fingers. You give in and move your lips against his. He tastes so fucking good. You can even taste the ale he was just drinking. Your lips meld and mix perfectly together, moving in perfect unison. And you absolutely adore the way his stubble scratches your skin. His lips pull away with a pop and your breath is completely taken away. He rests his forehead on yours, catching his own breath. The loose curls of his hair tickle your skin.

“You’re fucking irresistible when you ramble like that,” he huffs, his voice turned low and raspy and it sends a shiver up your spine. His words make you so weak and you can’t handle it anymore. And the spark burns into an inferno.

Your arms snake their way up his chest and around his neck, effectively pulling him down to you. Your lips meet again with fervor as the wool blanket on your shoulders drops to the floor. His hands leave you and you whine into his open mouth. He desperately removes his gloves and tosses them to where the drinks stand forgotten on the table. His bare hands glide underneath the hem of your tank top and grip onto the flesh of your waist. The sensation makes you both groan. His tongue licks the seam of your lips, asking for permission. You welcome him and if you thought he tasted good before, you’re about to eat him alive now. He kisses you like he’s fucking starved to taste you.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and lands on the plains of your neck. Gently sucking and nipping at the sensitive area as his hands knead your waist. Heat pools between your legs and all you can do is surrender yourself to him.

“You took so long,” you mewl. You thread your fingers through his soft curls and fist his hair when he pinches the skin of your neck between his teeth, he hisses at the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs between kisses, “I’ll make it up to you.” His voice rumbles through your entire being. You can feel his grin against your skin and suddenly you feel like you're in danger. In the best possible way.

He bends down, his hands run below the curve of your ass, and scoops you up by your thighs with ease, you gasp in surprise. Instinctually, you wrap your legs around his hips crossing your ankles at his lower back. You laugh against his lips as he takes his seat back on the crate. Without breaking away from the kiss, he hooks his hand under the bend of your knee, positioning you to straddle his beskar clad thigh. You hiss at the cold contact between your legs even through your shorts. You’re about to ask what it is he wants exactly until Mando’s strong hands grab handfuls of your ass with a good squeeze. And you can’t even form thoughts in your head let alone remember your question.

Then everything slows to a crawl. And you’re drunk in each other’s presence. Your eyelids are heavy with lust. And his gaze is fixed on your flushed face. He’s completely silent aside from his heavy breaths through his slightly open lips. Gods, his lips. They’re plush and raw from kissing you. Your hands tangle through his dark hair. A bit shaggy and long and so soft you could get lost in it for hours. He presses a soft slow kiss to your lips and you’re drowsy with affection.

“You look so beautiful right now, you know that?” His breath brushes on your cheeks. Something inside you shatters. Maybe it’s your pride. Or maybe it’s the wall you built to protect yourself from being hurt. But you crumble above him. Not even able to look him in the eyes as your cheeks burn red. ‘Beautiful’ isn’t something you’ve been called since… you can’t even remember when. One of your hands leaves his shoulder to cover your face from your cheeks to your ears and your eyes turn away.

“What?,” he asks softly. A slight amusement laces his voice. “You’re so shy now, when you just told me off a minute ago?” He murmurs against your ears and you continue to fall apart. Gently, he takes his hand and places it on top of the one that rests on your face, guiding it back to face him directly.

“Don’t look away, pretty girl,” you melt hearing his little nickname for you, the same words he said that late night when you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other.

“Please,” you whisper. You’re not sure what you're asking for exactly. Maybe just an end to your misery. Your pupils are blown wide underneath your heavy lashes and your head is foggy. You need him.

“Please what?” His voice is gruff. He presses delicate wet kisses along your jaw. You turn to kiss his mouth but he pulls away just before you reach him and you whine in protest. Your hands cradle the sides of his neck as he continues. And he breathes out your name against your hot skin.

“Please, Mando-“

“Din”

Your entire body stills. You’re silent, waiting for another response but it doesn’t come. Gliding your thumb along the line of his jaw, your mouth opens to speak but nothing comes. Is that…is that his name?

“Din?” You sigh, tasting the word in your mouth and your heart swells. He’s giving you his name. Earning another piece of him, like when he removed his helmet to you the first time. You repeat it, getting used to the feeling, and his chest puffs with pride. His hands flex tightly at your hips. He likes when you say it.

“Fuck,” he grits through his teeth, his large frame cages you in and you feel like you’re being enveloped in him. Your hips buck forward, whimpering at the friction of your pulsing clit against his thigh. “Tell me what you want,” he urges.

“Keep touching me,” you choke out. Rolling your hips again, you find relief only for a moment before you’re aching for more. The metal beneath now warmed from your heat. “Anywhere.” He doesn’t hesitate to oblige.

His left arm wraps around your hips, urging you to tilt back slightly. With his right, he yanks the bottom of your shirt up to your collarbone, exposing your breasts. Taking one in his hand, Din squeezes and pulls until you're writhing above him. Running his thumb over your pebbled nipples. You moan at the sensation and you can’t stop yourself from slowly grinding against his holy armor. Gripping his shoulders to hold you steady against him.

“Don’t stop,” he pants, “Take what you want, pretty girl.” He even matches the pace of your hips with his kneading. Perfectly content watching you chase your pleasure. Fuck, If anyone walked in this hangar right now…

He takes your mouth again, biting and licking as you pant for air. The arm around your waist pushes and pulls to your rhythm, encouraging you to move faster and harder. Your shorts are soaked through, since you didn’t opt for underwear after your shower, and you practically glide on top of him with how slick you are. He swipes his thumb over your peaks again and again until you feel your orgasm cresting deep inside you.

Out of nowhere, Din bounces his leg, making you bounce along with the movement and the beskar presses hard against your clit. Your breath is caught in your throat and stars fill your vision from the over sensitivity. You gasp against his mouth and he just smiles, feeling so fucking proud of himself. Bastard.

“Do that again,” you pant. He’s quick to respond, bouncing his leg harder this time and watching shamelessly at the way your tits bounce along. “Again,” you moan. And you both reach a rhythm of bouncing and grinding that sends you into a frenzy.

“Din… Din, please…,” you beg and cry his name over and over and he’s desperate to keep drawing those pretty noises from you. He dives down, taking your breast in his hot mouth and you sob. Sucking and flicking your pert nipples with his tongue. Groaning at the sweet taste of your sweat and the smell of your soap. The sight alone is about to send you over the edge. Your hips falter, you’re desperate for release. It’s right there, right there, right there…

“Oh fuck…fuck,” you cry out, white hot heat washes over your body as you cum hard, making a mess on top of him. A shrill moan escapes from deep within you and echoes in the garage. You plunge your face into the crook of his neck, moaning into his cape as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. You’re both spent, breathing heavily into each other in tempo. He rubs your bare back as you come down your high, dragging his nails lightly across your skin and you melt at the gesture.

He drags his hand up to the base of your neck and threads his fingers through your hair. You hum in delight, loving the slow paced caresses after such an intense climax. You want to return the attention. With your head laying on Din’s shoulder, you reach between the two of you, grazing your hand down his cuirass slowly until you reach his groin. He’s painfully hard from just from watching you fuck his thigh. You palm him over his flight suit and he twitches beneath your hand, letting out a deep, throaty moan. You instantly smile, wanting to hear him more so you give him a firm squeeze and his hips buck against you.

He groans your name into your shoulder, pulling you impossibly close. “I need you.”

“I’m all yours,” you breathe, pressing sweet pecks along his jawline.

“Where’s your bed,” he growls against your ear and you shiver. You quickly give him a peck on the cheek as you try to rise to your feet. Wobbling a little bit before standing up straight, adjusting your shirt and shorts. You catch a glimpse of him right before he stands and your mouth fucking waters at the sight of his cock imprinted on his pants. The length of him reaching damn near his mid-thigh. You did that.

It’s the longest walk of your life making your way across the hangar. You're buzzing with anticipation, and he hasn’t even taken his hands off you the entire time. Going past the little office and the common area, you finally come to your room. The only privacy being two cloth curtains that drape to the floor. You’re pushed inside and he’s back on you. Kissing you within an inch of your life, running his hands up and down your body. You respond in kind.

The room is lit only from a few hangar lights that filter in from a small window facing outside. Some crates and parts are scattered along the walls of what was originally a storage room. But you’ve made it your own. The evidence of your personality everywhere, adorning the walls and few pieces of furniture with different objects of interest and curiosities. Both you make your way to the bed that rests against the far wall by the head.

Kissing along his jawline, your fingers tug on his cuirass. You look up at him with doe eyes, asking for permission. He nods, taking your hands and resting them on the beskar, guiding you where to detach them. He briefly asks if you’re safe and you nod in return without hesitation. You take your time removing each piece of armor and setting them gently on a chair adjacent to the bed. Laying them down with respect one by one, then his cape until just his flight suit remains.

As much as he appreciates the sentiment, Din is all too eager to taste you again. His hands find the bend of your knees and swiftly pull back, making you fall flat on your back upon the bed. Kicking off his boots, he’s on top of you in an instant. It’s chaos trying to remove each other’s clothes. With each piece thrown aside without care, kissing and licking the exposed skin until you’re both bare.

He slips his hand between your legs as he flicks his tongue with yours, gliding his middle fingers along the seam of your wet heat. You’re spiraling underneath him. You cry out when the pads of his fingers press slow circles on your puffy clit. He groans at how slick you feel on his hand. “Fuck,” he grits out, “You’re pretty everywhere.” His pace is slow but steady and you’re fucking dying to be filled with him already.

“Always wanted you like this,” he confesses. He plunges his thick fingers into your needy cunt until his knuckles brush your entrance, curling his fingers expertly against your walls and all you can do is fist the sheets and cry his name like a prayer. Your eyes close shut and your brow furrows tightly. “Wanted to bend you over that speeder when I saw you. Looking fucking beautiful with all that grease on you.” His length is pressed hard against the side of your hips, trying not to buck but he can’t help himself whenever you say his name.

The sheets aren’t enough to hold onto. You’re desperate to cling onto something, anything. Your hands fly to his back, strong and muscular and ripe for scratching. You dig in your fingers and drag your nails harshly down to his lower back and then press a long sweet kiss upon his shoulder. A raw guttural moan leaves his throat and he thrusts hard against your hip before he can stop it, completely floored by the duality of your actions.

“Please,” you whine, your voice is so hoarse it almost hurts to speak. “I need to feel you. I need it.” You’re so fucking hungry for him, you’ve waited so long for this, to be as close as possible with him. He leaves your heat and grabs your legs with both hands. Ripping your knees apart wider, he positions himself over you and his cock finds your entrance like a fucking magnet. He plunges into you and you both groan low and loud, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he splits you in two.

“Fuck- Din!” you cry out.

“I got you… I got you,” he voice falters as he huffs your name against your ear. “You feel so good.”

He stretches your walls impossibly but you have a vice grip on him that sends him spiraling. Every muscle in his body feels tight as he tries not to spill everything he has inside you right now. He rocks shallow thrusts into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. Gods, there’s more?

You lock your ankles together at the small of his back, nudging him to move. Pressing little wet kisses along your jaw and up to your mouth, he kisses you deeply as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in completely. You gasp against his lips but he cuts it off with another heated kiss. You feel so full of him as sets a pace, he bottoms out with each thrust. You’re definitely going to be sore tomorrow and you can’t wait.

His arms cage you in, propping himself above you by his elbows. He picks up the pace and your eyes roll back as they shut tightly. Everything about him is so intense, so all consuming, like everything could be gone in the next moment. The way he kisses you, the way he moans your name, and now the way he fucks you. It’s more than flirtation and distraction now. You need him. You need him like fucking air. And he needs you.

“Take me so good,” he growls in between thrusts, hammering into you now. “Such a good girl for me.” Oh, you love that. You love that a lot. You moan at his praises, begging for more. Your nails scratch down his back to provoke him and he nearly collapses on top of you with how it makes his whole being tremble. Back scratching, noted.

“You like that?” You love to tease him. Even though he’s the one in control, you feel a power trip knowing what makes him fall apart. His head dips to your shoulder, and suddenly you feel like you’ve awoken a sleeping beast. He groans low like he’s angry and you know you fucked up.

He snakes his hand down to the bend of your knee, hooking under with a grip so tight it digs into your flesh. He slowly hikes your leg higher and higher until you’re folded. Pinning your leg to your side, he slams back into your cunt to the hilt, hitting that devastating spot deep inside you. Your sharp gasp devolves into a moan and you’ve learned your lesson. Your shocked expression makes him chuckle and you’re tempted to provoke him again.

He kicks up a crushing pace as he starts fucking you hard into the bed. Pounding into your hips relentlessly as the room is filled with the sound of your bodies coming together. He keeps hitting that spot perfectly inside and you can feel yourself about to fall off the edge again. “Right there,” you sob, “Don’t stop.” You can barely form the words that spill from your lips and brush against his cheek. He drives into you with everything he’s got and all you can do is cry out his name.

“Din…Din…Din-“, you topple over. Throwing your head back on the pillow, your nails dig half moons into his back as your orgasm wracks through your entire body, running over you like warm water on your skin. He chokes out your name. Feeling you squeeze around his cock he sucks in air through his teeth. He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes are shut and his brow is knotted tightly. His hips stutter and his thrusts become shallow as he digs deeper and deeper until he groans loudly, spilling into your wet heat, gritting out curses as he pulses inside you and exhaustion sets in.

He releases your knee and you’re both utterly spent. Collapsing into each other and panting into the hot air, tangled together. Silence settles around you and there’s nothing else that exists outside this room. He lazily wipes the damp hair from your face and you’re not entirely sure if it’s from sweat or tears. Fuck, that was good. How you wish your first time would’ve felt. And yet, everything about him feels like a first for you.

He presses gentle kisses along your neck and cheek. Even after all that, he still makes you feel so soft. You’re moved by his tenderness as much as you’re moved by his savagery. You return the affection by running your fingers through his hair, slightly damp from sweat.

Your eyelids are heavy and you’re so close to sleep when Din cradles your cheek in his hand, bringing you in closer. “Come with me.” His lips press a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Hmm?” You’re almost too tired for words right now.

“Come with me,” he repeats. “There’s something I have to do first but… you were right. I need to see him again.” His hushed tone speaks volumes and you try to fight your drowsiness to listen.

You smile at the notion. Meet Grogu? Possibly bring him back? You might be getting ahead of yourself there but you’re so touched by his offer. He wants you to meet his son. How could you say no to that? You already know the answer.

“How would I fit in the ship,” you whisper.

He smiles against your skin. “Just like the last time,” he quips.

The memory floods your mind. The way you wrapped your arms around him, the way his hands grazed your throat. You grin and turn to rest your forehead against his. A content sigh escapes through your nose. And then his hand wraps around your wrist. He gently guides your hand upward and lays your palm against his chest. Feeling his heart beat so hard like it’s about to burst.

“Please,” he breathes.

Oh, you do like it when he says please.

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Lonely (kylo ren x reader)

a: kylorenxreader

description: How utterly unruly is it to lust after your ultimate superior? Turns out it’s not as unfortunate as you foretold.

warnings: smUT, moRE SMUT, fluff?, force use, no spoilers for TROS

note: let me know if this is groovy. love hearing from my fellow internet goons.

(DO NOT COPY OR POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN: if I find you are- I will expose you)

***

The first time you saw The Supreme Leader without his mask, you felt every last piece of your dignity melt into a puddle and evaporate with each passing second you stared at him. 

 It was inept, and you hated yourself. Every ounce of your commitment was devoted to The Order since you first began your recruitment. You didn’t know what this was, but it sure as hell wasn’t loyalty. 

 Your job was simple, a data analyst, and occasionally you were given temporary command over your unit, and you were fit for it. Well, you were more adequate at the whole thing than you had anticipated. You were promoted. The idea of it was pleasing, but all that repletion faded as soon as you stepped foot into the control room and laid eyes on your mask-less commander. 

 How utterly unruly was it to feel something towards your ultimate superior? You were tempted by him- and it was more than alien to you. 

 Sure - you had laid eyes upon a few men in your day. But this was different. 

 It wasn’t just his face. You had detected him months before, hovering inside the hallways, and you felt yourself turn and walk the opposite direction. His stature was broad and towering. You were intimidated yet interested, somehow finding cracks in his facade of prestige to reveal nothing but a man who wanted to justify himself in the few meetings you attended with the officers. 

 You respected him then, as a superior, but now- you didn’t even want to acknowledge what you felt. It took everything inside yourself to rend your gaze from him. He seemed to notice. 

Keep reading

#She's So Unserious I Love Her

disobedience | remus lupin x reader

word count: 1.4k+

summary: remus tries to train his puppy in the art of patience, however, you are anything but; something remus is willing to remedy after your little bout of disobedience.

warnings: fem!reader (18+), teacher/student relationship, d/s dynamics, hard!dom!prof!remus, puppy reader, pet play, puppy training, collar and leash, some dumbification, shoe play (idk if that’s a thing ??), orgasm denial, punishment, degradation/a bit of objectification/degrading names, fear kink for a sec, gagging, penetrative sex, allusions to pup headspace, implied breeding kink

before you read: (one) reader isn't a hybrid, she's a human and (two) she's fully nude in case you don't catch that. enjoy!

—————

You realize now that it was ineffectual when you craned your neck forward in the hopes that this time you'd find some relief from your uncomfortable position on the floor–some solace in the man that sat before you, head bowed and back hunched over his papers–because you were immediately pulled back by the restraint around your neck. The familiar tsk from his lips had your bottom lip protruding.

"If you can't sit still," he said, "you mustn't be here." His eyes never left his work, and his words were accompanied by the harsh sound of his quill scribbling on the parchment before him. "You know better. Don't make me repeat it." His voice was stern, explicative, though not unkind; Remus was not a mean man. And you did know better, but you couldn't very well tell him that.

You were close enough to reach him if you outstretched an arm–close enough to smell him–but not close enough to lay your head on his knee or have his hand on your head and pet your hair as he usually did.

You ground down on your heel, desperate for friction because maybe Remus won't notice if you did it for just a second–your want had been bubbling beneath the surface ever since he clipped your leash to his desk. But Remus didn't miss the movement from the corner of his eye.

He was no longer hunching over the coffee table; his arm outstretched, and he was gripping you by your collar before you could blink. "What did I say 'bout sitting still, puppy, hm? You too dumb to understand, or r'you too much of a needy pup that y'can't wait for y'owner to do it for you?" His eyes looked from your face to your core before he let out an incredulous scoff. "Y'dripping like a whore." He let go of your collar and sat back on the sofa. The force he lets go of you makes you lose your balance, and you have to plant a hand on the floor to keep yourself from tipping over. "Next time, wait for me," he said as he picked up his quill. "Now y'have to wait even longer. Be a good girl f'me, won't you?"

A whimper was on the tip of your tongue before Remus shot you a stern look, one that left no room for begging, so you bite your tongue.

So you sat and waited. You watched Remus grade paper after paper, watched the steady waft of steam from his cup of tea slowly come to an end and the way the sun had come to settle just above the horizon.

You were growing restless, the heel of your foot no longer enticed you, and you wanted him. So you reached out and tugged on Remus's pant leg.

"Yes, puppy?"

All you could do was let out a low whine as you continued to pull at his clothes and only hope that it would best convey how needy you were.

"You want me?" Remus asked, though he showed no sign of his usual snarkiness nor interest in the way you were trying to pull him toward you, it was a genuine thought. He sat back on the sofa and eyed you; flushed skin, a wobbling lower lip and a heaving chest.

He gave you a look that said fine before his dress shoe came into view, and he was pushing you away from him. You braced yourself on your elbows when you felt something hard press against your centre.

Remus was lazily dragging the tip of his shoe across your clit as he continued to read the work before him. You couldn't stifle your moans as he pressed his foot harder against you, and you had just barely started grinding your hips in sync with his movements before your thighs began trembling and all sorts of noises started tumbling from your lips as your impending climax approached. But when Remus moved to retract his foot, you inanely gripped onto his ankle to keep him in place, desperate to come after waiting for so long-

"Pup," Remus growled, yanking his foot from your hold, "D'you not understand what it means to be a good girl? Or r'you too fuckin' dumb?" You scrambled onto your knees and shuffled forward, desperate to get his foot back, get anything, so you could cum. "Good puppies take what they get 'n nothing more."

You whined again and grasped onto his shoe, trying to pull it toward you, but Remus jerked his foot away from you once again. You were too desperate to wait any longer, and your thoughts were running rampant in your head, and so the word fell from your lips unbidden.

Before you could clamp your mouth shut, look up at Remus's red face with a pleading look, you had been turned over onto your hands and knees, and Remus's front was pressed to your back.

"What was that, puppy?" Remus's breath caressed the shell of your ear, and though it sent a shiver down your spine, it was nothing familiar to the usual exhilaration you'd feel thrumming through your veins. "Did'ya say 'please'?" You could hear the grin in his voice, though it was not one of happiness but of sinister excitement. "Oh, pup," he cooed, "y'know better than that."

Remus stood, but you kept your head down–afraid to look up–and you braced yourself for your impending punishment. But all you heard was the click of the clasp of your leash. You were no longer bound to the desk.

"Open wide, puppy." Before you could do as Remus said, he roughly gripped your jaw and shoved his tie in your mouth. The unexpected intrusion caused tears to prick your eyes, and Remus gave your cheek a pat. "That's better."

He moved behind you once more, the end of your leash gripped in his right hand, tugging you back ever so slightly with every move he made.

"Now, puppy," you could hear the clink of Remus unbuckling his belt and the zip of undoing his zipper, "because you're such an impatient little brat, you'll get my cock now." One of Remus's rough hands splayed over your ass. "How's that sound, babypup? That's right, good puppies don't speak, do they?"

The tie in your mouth muffled the whine spilling past your lips when you felt Remus's cock prod at your entrance. "That's right," Remus murmured, "you just stay nice 'n quiet. Be a good fuck toy f'me, won't you?"

Finally, he thrusts into you, and he wastes no time in letting you adjust to him. "Such a wet little whore," Remus groans, his length filling you to the brim, and you want to tell him how good it feels, but the tie restricts it, and when Remus starts pounding into you at a merciless rhythm, any coherent thought you once had is long forgotten. "C'mon, puppy," Remus croons as he tugs on your leash, and you merely whimper as your feeble body moves in whichever way he likes, "'m I fuckin' you dumb? Dumb puppy?"

You try to nod your head because you truly feel like a dumb puppy, but if you can't even grip onto the rug below you, there's no way you could do even that.

"Y'not gonna cum, y'know that?" Remus grunts. "Y'don't deserve it after bein' such a greedy little whore, playing with y'puppyparts right in front of me."

The tie muffles your unintelligible babbling, and so you feel a steady trail of dribble leaking down your chin. Your legs have been trembling ever since he turned you over, and you feel yourself clenching around Remus's length.

"Y'wanna cum, don't you?" Remus groans as his hips begin to pick up their pace, his hips slamming into your ass, and you dimly think about the bruises that will decorate your backside tomorrow. "Your tight little hole's gonna make me cum, babypup. Y'want my cum, puppy?" An incoherent sound bubbles in your throat, and Remus takes it as accordance.

His hips give one last thrust, and he finally stills. You whimper when you feel his hot release coat your walls, and something about the way he's gripping onto your leash, his nose in your hair and his left arm encircling your body, keeping you flush to him, makes you feel like he's branding you in a way he hasn't before.

Your body still aches for release, but when Remus holds you in his lap and tells you what a good girl you were and that maybe he'll reconsider your punishment tomorrow, you mindlessly nod your head because you both know you'll agree to anything he says, and all you can think about are the strong arms that are keeping you upright and his seed slowly seeping down your thighs.

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in my mind remus have a BIG breeding kink

YES YES YES!!!

remmy would have the biggest fucking breeding kink.

even when you were still in hogwarts, every time you fucked, he’d beg to go bare. you were on birth control, so you were mostly safe, but that lingering 2% that it’d fail always got to him.

he’d always be muttering stuff in your ear while he fucked you.

“want me to fuck my pups into you?”

“gonna look so pretty with your belly all swollen with my babies.”

and don’t even get me started when you’re out of hogwarts and discus children, that man would lock you away in his bedroom for days just to fuck you, coming inside of you over and over and over again until the test shows up positive.

regal.

| loki x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. Loki and Queen!reader??? Like they get married and she’s nervous about being queen? And he comforts her and maybe they have some fluffy smut & Dom!Loki with sub!reader (with daddy kink) after he proposes to her, keeps calling her his queen

“They’ll love you,” Loki promised, looking down at the kingdom from his balcony high overhead.

“What if they don’t?” You questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“The queen of Asgard will not doubt her worth,” Loki corrected you fiercely, tilting your chin up.

The breeze blew through your gown, golden fabric swirling around you. You may not have felt royal, but Loki made sure you looked the part. He’d adorned you in gold and diamonds, with peeks of green, so you looked unmistakably his. 

“My queen, they love you already,” Loki smiled as those who saw you from below bowed and waved.

“I’m not your queen yet,” you reminded him softly, running your fingers along the railing of the balcony.

.

Loki had proposed to you during the midsommar festival. You were dressed in white, flowers woven in your hair, and you were out in the gardens, celebrating with the Asgardian subjects.

He’d gotten down on one knee, producing a ring with a delicate diamond. His proposal was straight out of a romance novel, genuine and sweet, begging you to be his.

The whole kingdom had celebrated your engagement, festivities lasting days. Everyone loved you, and everyone was excited to see you on the throne next to their king. Little girls had taken your hands and danced with you, pushing you toward Loki so he could kiss you.

.

“Come to bed, Loki,” you whispered against his back, your arms around his defined waist.

“I’ll be there in a few moments. Go rest,” he gently pushed you toward the bedroom, kissing your temple.

“I can’t sleep without you.”

“You’re making excuses,” Loki accused, though he followed you inside, closing the balcony doors.

“Maybe. But I’m nervous.”

His gaze softened, and he took your hands. 

“Come here,” Loki’s voice was quiet, and he pulled you to his chest, kissing your head. 

“Do you have your doubts about marrying me?” Loki asked seriously, his hand holding your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Doubts about you? Never. I’m nervous about stepping into royalty. I would never doubt you,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. 

“How can I settle your fears?” Loki asked, and you shook your head, at a loss. You supposed you just needed to push forward, to step into it. You wanted to be brave, but the thought of ruling a kingdom was daunting.

“You are not alone. You will rule by my side, Y/N. From this moment forward, you will never be alone again,” Loki’s voice was full of certainty, and your doubts dissipated.

Your hand went around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. His lips were soft against yours, but even in his gentleness, he was authoritative and dominating. You were melting into him, letting him manhandle you to the bed. He kissed your shoulder as he slid your gown from your body, letting it fall in a pile on the floor at your feet. His hands smoothed along the curves of your body, touching you before your back hit the sheets. 

“Still nervous?”

“Just a little bit,” you answered, tilting your head back as he kissed along the underside of your jaw, down the column of your throat. 

“Then let me distract your anxious mind. Submit to me darling, let me take all of you, even the negative thoughts and the doubt,” Loki murmured, his ocean eyes boring into yours. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, a smile pulling at your lips. 

Your god grinned, meeting you in a kiss before hauling you up to your knees. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, unsure of what he was planning. You’d expected your legs to be put over his shoulders– his preferred position, as he could hit you in the deepest places that way. 

“What are you doing to me?” you giggled softly. 

He moved to kneel behind you, a mirror appearing at the end of your bed. You gasped and leaned back into his chest, looking up at him. 

“I want you to watch, to see how regal you look with your god filling you,” his lips were hot against your ear. Loki touched your head, a crown of gold and emeralds appearing on top of your hair. 

He hauled you back onto his lap, hooking your arms around his neck. Your lashes parted and you watched him slowly fill you, sinking down onto him. Your reflection peered back at you, your body flushed, with pale hands sliding up to squeeze your chest. A whimper escaped your lips, making Loki thrust upward into you. Your fingers tangled into his soft curls, and he smiled, mouthing along your shoulder as he bounced your body on top of his, bringing his hips up to meet yours, repeatedly filling you. 

“Look at you, my queen, getting absolutely ruined on my cock. You look beautiful, darling, and I wish to see you like this forever,” Loki breathed against your neck, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. 

“Yes, daddy, it feels heavenly,” you cried, your head dropping forward.

“No, I want you to watch.” 

Loki’s delicate hand closed around your throat, holding your head up, making you watch him fuck you. He squeezed gently, restricting your breathing as he mouthed at the tender spot on your neck that always made you weak.

You watched him repeatedly disappear inside of you, your abdomen distending with the outline of him. The sight had you soaked, allowing Loki to fuck you with ease.

Pressure slowly started to build between your hips, encouraged by Loki throbbing inside of you. 

“Daddy, I’m close, please,” you begged softly as his grip lightened on your throat, allowing you to speak. 

“I’m going to help you, just relax, darling,” he gritted, increasing the pace of his thrusts, moving quicker as he tore into your quim. You gripped his curls tightly as he dropped his other hand to your sex, drawing tiny shapes on your clit. 

Your thighs were trembling, draped over either side of his. His lap was slick with your arousal, your sex messy and wild. 

“Open your eyes,” Loki commanded, feeling you begin to spasm around him. 

You forced yourself to obey, witnessing your own orgasm in the mirror, along with his as he spilled into you. His body was cool against yours, contrasting the heat that burned through every inch of your skin. Even as he came, he was strong enough to hold you up, keeping you against his chest.

“I love you,” you stammered out, and Loki turned your head so he could kiss you. His lips were forceful against yours, fingers cradling your jaw, and an arm around your torso. 

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

“Wife-to-be,” you corrected him softly, earning another kiss meant to shut you up. 

.

You stood at the throne, a wedding ring around your finger and a crown on your head. You were adorned in the finest gown, hand-sewn by Asgardian women, all excited to make a wedding dress for their new queen. 

Loki’s hand was in yours, standing before a court of your subjects, all bowing on their knees. You’d recited their traditional vows, gone through the ceremony, and now you were being recognized as their new ruler. 

“Thank you, it is my honor to serve you,” your voice echoed through the golden halls, and a hum of approval echoed back. 

“Now, for the real festivities,” Loki announced. 

A festival commenced, the kingdom exploding in cheers and excitement. The halls were filled with dancing and feasts, all in celebration of your marriage. Loki spun you around to music, your gown swirling around your feet like a halo. Your laughter filled the room, mixing with Loki’s. When your body twisted back into his chest, he dipped you down in a kiss. 

“Queen of Asgard!” Loki cried, your subjects chanting your title after him and tossing flowers into the air. 

take the edge off

pairing. eddie munson x female! reader  do not copy my work, i will find out. 

an. lets not talk about it !!!! at all!! ever !! let’s move on and live in denial !! pls comment and reblog if you like love u mwah! synopsis. you’ve been seeing eddie for a couple of months now. still, you’re not always able to voice your desires – don’t worry though, eddie’s able to read you like a book. 

warnings. 18+. minors do not interact with this fic or follow me. swearing, anxiety – slight panic attack but not a panic attack – kissing, almost being caught, drugs (edibles), slight sub space (you’re just really high), female receiving fondling and penetration, dominant eddie kinda, hand on throat (no choking), spit as lube (then real lube) – dealers choice universe but can be read separately. 

Keep reading

remus for sure has a secret collection of dirty polaroids of you

flirty friday

You find yourself overcome with a familiar sensation in your tummy, thighs clenching together as Remus plucks out the photos, showcasing his collection off to you. You catch onto the slight wearing of some of them, corners faded and worn at the edges, the werewolf having looked at them very often.

“Look at ye. So fucking pretty aren’t you? My gorgeous girl.”