𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥 // 𝕖𝕞 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕩 𝕤𝕙

ben barnes as young sirius black

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.

taglist: @leithatnight @wonderless-screwup @babydarkstar @thevoiceinyourheadx @overly-obsessed-with-you @luanan7 @the-corvus-bandit @fangirl-316 @parkjammys @kirsteng42

Pet

Jotunn!Loki x Reader

AU in which Loki is the king of Jotunnheim.

This turned out pretty fluffy? I was orignally gonna write something dark but, oh well.

TW: Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of infertility, agnst with a happy ending. Oh, and smut, filthy stuff.

The chain was thick, made of a metal that looked like gold but did not have gold’s relative softness. The links fit closely together, not a seam in sight. Even if there were some sort of weak spot, it would be fruitless to attempt to exploit it without tools of some sort.

You shifted uncomfortably where you sat in the floor. The gilded collar around your neck hurt your clavicle, but the ache had mostly gone away. You wondered briefly how long it had been since it had been placed around your throat and bound you permanently to your place beside the throne.

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she knows what nancy listens to.

me in a nutshell

I would let them tag team me. That's it. That's the post.

#She's So Unserious I Love Her

Take me. Wreck Me. Ruin Me.(Draco Malfoy x Reader)- 18+

Summary: You used to work as a maid at the Malfoy Manor before the war and you still visit every day after the war because you don’t want Draco to be all alone. In between all this, he develops a dark kind of fixation with you.

Warnings: smut, derogatory terms daddy kink-ish, dom!draco, spanking, maid outfit, mature language and themes, 18+, reader discretion is highly advised, all acts are consensual and a safe word is in place

A/n: back with more filth. My first venture into Daddy kink and maid uniform smut so….idk how I feel about this fic🥸 but, you have been warned HAHA.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Draco?” 

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dealer’s choice

pairing. eddie munson x female! reader

an. i…everybody take a look at my dream man. I’m literally not kidding guise that’s actually who i will marry. i promise. i’ll share him with u if u reblog and comment tho<3 i’ve got more eddie on my mind so follow @ohcapfics​ for latest updates<3 synopsis. your dealer’s always been a bit sweet on you – giving you deals and letting you try out new shit. he even lets you make house calls! and pick the music, and sit on his lap…and… 

warnings. 18+. i am beating minors off with a stick rn. drugs, drug dealing, kissing, sexually explicit lang, sexually explicit acts: fondling over clothes & under clothes and grinding/thigh riding. sponsored by sat in your lap by kate bush.

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twin flame: george weasley x reader

twin flame (n.): an intense soul connection, sometimes called a “mirror soul,” thought to be a person’s other half. it’s based on the idea that sometimes one soul gets split into two bodies. one of the main characteristics of a twin flame relationship is that it will be both challenging and healing. this is due to the mirroring nature of a twin flame; they show you your deepest insecurities, fears, and shadows. but they also help you overcome them and vice versa—your twin flame will be equally affected by you.

completed

add yourself to the taglist :)

key: ❁ smut, ☽ angst, ☼ fluff

part one ☽☼

part two ☽

part three ☽

part four ❁ ☼

epilogue ☼