mandosgeorg

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

John would be scoffing and rolling his eyes at Din’s counter, uttering some sort of sarcastic response like Well, I know I’m Apollo’s Next Top Model, but you’re still pretty good yourself, but he was too distracted by the feeling of his fingers inside of him to manage to get anything out.

Well, anything that was more eloquent than the, “That’s bullshit,” he muttered.

In his defense, Din was amazing at what he did. The man always worked his body so easily. It never took long for Jonesy’s brain to shut down to anything that wasn’t his husband and how good he was feeling because of him.

He’d wished his hand hadn’t left his cock for a brief moment, but the dismay was reprieved as he felt him stretch his hole further. John’s head fell back against the bedding as he allowed Din to maneuver his leg up towards his chest.

John groaned lowly at the thought of coming on from his lover’s fingers alone, knowing it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.

“‘f that’s what you want,” he gasped, squirming mildly as Din began to pick up the pace.

A pathetic whine came from him as Din called him his boy.

Head moving up and down as best it could with the way Din was gripping his jaw, he watched him with hooded, wanton eyes.

“Your boy,” he breathed, reaching a hand up to curl around his husband’s forearm ever so delicately. He needed to hold onto Din as if it’d keep him grounded in the moment. The pad of his thumb lightly stroked along the side of his arm.

“Always your boy.”

John says always, and Din-- wanting, loving, impatient as all the hells-- can’t stop himself from leaning in to take those parted lips with his own. His fingers press into the sides of John’s jaw, not so much to keep him steady as they are to remind him who he belongs to (just as John’s hand around his arm reminds him that he’s John’s, always). Then his fingers release, and he cups the side of John’s neck, and as his knees press into the mattress, his cock presses up against the back of his thigh.

“I love you,” Din whispers, teeth a gentle pressure on John’s lip as they scrape. “Gods, John, I love you. I want to look at you, but I...”

Another kiss, another curl of his tongue, and Din’s thumb strokes the tempting hollow of John’s neck as his fingers sink in again, and again, and again, sticky with lube and shining when they scissor John open.

“I want you,” Din breathes when they part, pressing his forehead to John’s as his cock ruts in the junction of his husband’s thigh. “Always want you. Fuck. I want--”

To fuck you, he thinks, his fingers stroking against John’s walls to find that spot that makes hm sing.

I want to fuck you so bad.

“--nngh. Tell me you’re ready.”

So much for patience. (Always, every time.)

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

A sharp gasp ripped from John’s chest, back arching and hands fisting at the sheets beneath him as he felt Din’s sudden movements. He couldn’t help the huff of disappointment that fell from his lips as he stopped and went back to the slow pace.

John leans in out of habit as Din pulls way, looking at him with wide eyes as if silently pleading for the next one to last just a touch longer.

“Seems like you’re doing a pretty decent job compromising, though,” he murmured, squirming at the feeling of his hand and finger teasing him more than he’d have liked. He loved and loathed how easily the man affected him. He can’t remember anyone turning him on so quickly and effortlessly before.

A coy smirk rose to his lips as he heard Din’s order. “Sir, yes, sir,” he purred as he pulled his teeth from between his lips.

The cocky disposition was short lived as his husband began to finger him in time with his strokes. It almost immediately subsided into a shaky moan as his head fell back against the pillow, allowing his eyelids to shut for a brief moment as he allowed the pleasure to take him over.

“Damnit, Din,” he breathed between groans, licking his lips and swallowing thickly as he forced his eyes open to look at the man once more. “I swear, I’ll never get used to how good you feel.”

Shiver running through his spine at the sight of Din’s tongue running over his lower lip, Jonesy couldn’t help but be mesmerized.

“Or how good you look.”

His name is good in John’s mouth, safe even with the swear. Din doesn’t notice his own lips parted as he mirrors the open shape of John’s mouth, doesn’t compute anything but the spread of his legs and the cling of his hole around him. It’s tighter when his index pushes in, too-- a fact that has Din baring his teeth for all of a moment before he releases John’s prick and touches his sticky palm to the back of his thigh instead.

“You look better,” Din mumbles, hand sliding up to the back of John’s knee to hold it up higher. “Gods.” John’s leg folds and his hole is exposed that much more, enough that Din’s head dips just to see his own fingers disappear and curl within him, and he grits his teeth as the tips of his fingers rub before pulling out again with a wet sound.

“I almost want you to come like this.”

Din’s index and middle pull John’s hole open in a silent reminder of his emptiness.

“On my fingers.”

Then push back in, both of them, in until the last knuckle so Din can curl both digits again on the upstroke.

“I know you can.”

His fingers go straight again, his forearm drawing back and forth as he fucks John with quick, steady pressure. His other hand hooks John’s leg up over his own shoulder, then goes down to slide over his belly, up to his chest, and higher still to grip John’s jaw so he can look at him.

“You’re always so good.”

Din’s palm slaps against John’s ass when he sinks into him, his eyes dark and focused as he takes in every detail of his face.

“My boy...”

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

A breathy laugh left him as he gazed up at his lover. He reached a hand up to cup the side of his face, stroking his cheek ever so lovingly. 

“Welcome to my Hell. And you get to see my face all of the time, too.”

It wasn’t a complaint in the slightest. If anything, it made the exact same decision Din was facing a harder choice for himself, but he never minded. To John, it was never a negative in the slightest. He never really thought anything of it more than the fact that the times he saw his face were rare and special. John got an intimacy with Din that no one else would get. If anything, he considered himself lucky.

John pulls his lower lip between his teeth and his eyelids flutter shut for a brief moment as he felt Din graze over his cock, letting out a stuttered breath as he felt the press to his hole. On instinct, Jonesy’s legs parted further, knees pulling up higher to present himself to the other more easily.

Gulping thickly, John gazed up at him adoringly as he heard him speak up again.

“If that’s what you want. I’m all yours, Din. Always.”

The faintest whimper left him as he felt his husband begin to jerk him off once more as he continued to tease his entrance.

As much as John wanted to beg him to enter him, it was his fault, really, that Din was taking his time. And, most importantly, this was about Din. He bit his lip again, trying to remind himself that if Din wanted to toy with him, he was allowed to do it for as long as he wanted.

It’s the way John’s knees lift, and the way his thighs part, and the way he looks so damn delectable that destroys him. Din wants to put his mouth to his hole, to finger and tongue him and work his cock until he cries his name, but instead his eyes stare, and his fist slides faster, and he plunges his middle finger in all the way just to see how John would react to it.

His lip twitches, his head dipping to kiss John’s lips before he pulls away almost as soon as he’d dropped lower. “Saying you’re mine doesn’t make it easier for me to pick.”

Din’s finger draws back, enough that the pressure of John’s muscle squeezes around the tip, and then he pushes it in again, slow and steady and enough for the lube to squelch its way in the narrow space between.

“Take your teeth out of your lip,” he demands, giving a warning squeeze around the base of John’s cock. “The baby is sleeping. He won’t hear.

“But I want to.”

And finally, finally, his finger follows the pace of his fist, back and forth and back again as he fucks John with something he knows isn’t nearly enough to fulfill his promise to destroy him.

Slowly, though. Din’s tongue peeks out to wet his lip.

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

John lets out a stuttered breath the moment he feels Din’s nails slide along his spine, shivering and moaning feebly as his lover continues to claim him in the best of ways.

Eyelids hooded as he looks at the other when he speaks, he pulls his lower lip between his teeth with the faintest sound of confirmation. Though, before he could move or even ask Din how he wanted him, he’s already on his back with his husband leaning over him, kissing him as if it’s their last night together.

John’s always hated that expression. It’s always been so cliche. Though the instant he fell for Din, he loathed it because he knew how true it was for each moment they shared. Their lives weren’t safe. Din wasn’t even from this place. Maybe he’d want to go back and he couldn’t go with him. Maybe IO would do something to interfere with them. Maybe they’d be separated somehow. John didn’t know.

What he did know that their lives were unpredictable and every kiss, touch, look, and I love you was limited, probably far more than he’d liked to hope.

So when Din kissed him breathless, he savored the burn in his lungs and the way Din held him and the way he tasted.

“Yeah,” he breathed, shaking his head earnestly. “God, yeah.”

It was almost funny that Din said he wanted all of those things as if it were some sort of stretch to get Jonesy to do them whenever they made love so fervently. Hell, he did the former two on a regular basis. It was impossible for John to look at the man, in his armor or without and his hair tousled from sleep, and not utter an, “I love you, Din.”

Din was his everything, just as Grogu was. John couldn’t imagine his life without either of them far too soon after meeting them. He was grateful it was mutual.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath as he gazed into the dark irises of the man he loved so dearly.

“Please, Din?”

He knows he’d asked for it, but it doesn’t make Din any less weak when John says “please” like that. Doesn’t make it any easier to resist leaning in to kiss him, tongue slipping into John’s mouth.

Din gives a few more strokes to John’s prick before he releases him to push his thigh off to the side and expose him properly. Through the surreal glow of the Zero Point miles away he takes in the sharp line of John’s nose, the curve of his lips, the angle of his jaw... and the obscene line of his body makes his mouth water, just as the sight of those legs spread makes his dick twitch where it’s still hard. Din can’t say he’s especially good about patience, but he thinks he gets the reason for John wanting to take his time now. He’s always liked looking at John. (He’s always just been horrible about keeping his hands to himself.)

It’s going to be a test against his own ability to hold back even here, though. Even as the tube clicks open and he squeezes a good amount of lube onto his fingers, even if Din knows John’s so graciously relinquished control, Din’s problem is less John’s obedience and more his own will.

“I don’t know if I want to kiss you or look at you.”

The fingers that wrap around John’s cock are wet now, dragging up and pulling down and moving lower, still, towards his hole. Din’s middle finger traces the pucker, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows. He wants to open him up now, wants to break him now, wants to bury himself in John and never stop, but...

“Slow,” he mumbles, putting enough pressure to sink in before pulling back, tracing again, teasing again, feeling the way John’s muscle twitches as he does. “Right?”

His left hand picks up where his right left off, curling around John’s dick, and Din works him in long strokes as his middle finger continues its incessant circling.

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

John loved the sounds Din made, and it only served to boost his ego because he was the one getting him to gasp and groan like this.

And fuck is he beautiful when he’s making those sounds, too.

He’ll never get enough of Din and the possessive yet yielding hand on his head or the thrusts of his hips. He’ll never get enough of the soft pants between moans of pleasure or the way he closes his eyes when it’s getting to be too much.

His husband was so perfect.

John’s tongue flicked out against the tip of his cock as it rubbed against his lips, humming softly and moving to suck gently on the head of his length as he pushed back he, looking up at him with a slightly hazy glint in his eyes.

Jonesy tried not to melt at how gentle Din was with him or whimper at the thought of being taken by him right then. Instead, his tongue flicked out in a pathetic attempt to clean some of the slobbery mess on his lips as he slid a hand up to where his trousers no longer covered and tenderly caressed his skin.

God, he’s so warm.

“This isn’t about what I want, Din,” he murmurs, voice soft but ever so slightly gravely at the edges. 

Moving the other hand that was on his thigh, he quickly wiped at his mouth before leaning up and kissing his husband, letting every ounce of feeling seep into it before adding in a whisper against his lips, “It’s all about you, alright? What do you want me to do?”

Everything isn’t a real answer, Din knows. His own selfishness can only bring the most illogical of conclusions with it.

Still, with one arm looped around John’s neck and his fingers in his hair, the other trails down his back with the slightest pressure of nails as he kisses him again. Din thinks about it-- or thinks as much as he can with the press of his tongue against John’s and the subsequent shivers of pleasure that trail down his spine just at that.

Their mouths disconnecting, Din mumbles, “Want to be inside you.”

And if John wants Din to take without consideration, then he imagines there’s no issue with the way the hand on John’s back slides to his thigh, gripping firmly as he flips them over. Din’s hair sticks up from the way he’d pressed his head down, possessive hands cupping John’s cheeks as he leans in to kiss him again. He kisses him harder this time, impatient, and when he presses down his erection rubs into the divot of John’s hip.

He pulls back to press his forehead against John’s, one hand reaching beneath the pillow to pull the lube out, but he catches some of his riduur’s spit against the heel of his palm before wrapping his fingers around his dick to jerk him in steady, long pulls.

“I want you to say my name,” he growls. “I want you to tell me you love me. I want you to come on my cock, I want your nails down my back--”

Din kisses him again, biting at John’s lip after to make it swell.

“--I want to fuck you stupid.”

Din swallows, meeting John’s eyes with his own.

“Yeah?”

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

At the feeling of Din’s fingers curling even more tightly into his hair, John gives his thigh a gentle squeeze and mumbles a muffled a soft apology, thinking that the firmer hold had to do with the fact that he had just shifted around a good amount.

He hadn’t for a moment thought it had anything to do with how he might have looked to Din.

Jonesy’s eyes flickered upwards once more, allowing himself the moment to appreciate how well built the man was. It was amazing how someone so perfect kept themselves hidden from the world.

Though, John couldn’t say he minded when that meant only he got to see Din. It was like the smooth, firm chest and abdomen were all his to kiss and stroke. His hands were his alone to hold.

It was selfish, John knew, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t sure how many other’s had the same blessing he did to feel the warmth of his body pressed against their own, but he knew he was more or less the only one fortunate enough to look him in the eyes.

And as his eyes landed upon Din’s face once again and it was as if he fell in love all over. To call him anything but beautiful right then would be insulting to John. Certainly it was a very lewd expression on his features, but it was so real and unabashed and him. John was thanking his lucky stars for the millionth time that Din was his and he was Din’s.

John’s cheeks went a tinge pinker as he heard his husband’s plea, humming softly and immediately hollowing his cheeks.

“A-Ah--”

The moan that escapes him would be humiliating if Din had any sense of self-awareness, but as it is all his mind computes is that it’s warm, and it’s wet, and his own sensitivity makes it all the worse. John sucks and his back arches as his hips rise up towards him, pumping up and up and up again.

“That’s it,” he praises, heels pressing to the sheets as he catches his footing. “That’s good.” From their screwed shut position, Din’s eyes open half-lidded, staring dazedly at the ceiling as his teeth drag over his lip. “John, John, John.”

His fingers card through his husband’s hair, ending at the curve of his skull through touch alone. Din’s other hand stays on the bed, grasping the sheets, but with parted lips and panting breaths he guides John’s head in motions that match every upward thrust of his cock.

“If I look at you,” Din breathes, head pressing back as a particularly hard suck makes him whine, “I’ll come.”

And with that he holds John’s head steady as he pulls out enough the wet tip of his dick rubs against his lips. This and the coolness of the air around him makes him shiver, so Din slides the head of his dick past John’s lips again, just enough to make his slack mouth stretch around him.

“Do you want it here? Your mouth?”

He takes in a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a second, and then opens them once more as he pushes himself up onto an elbow. Seeing himself just barely between John’s swollen lips makes his stomach twist; oh, he looks so good...

But Din’s hand slips, thumb stroking John’s temple before he cups his cheek and gently lifts his head off his cock. “Or do you want to lie on your back for me?”

[mandosgeorg]

sithwithagun​:

he had simply come to investigate the source of this power he was feeling, the power that messed with his perception, the power that – undoubtedly – was linked to his arrival here. conveniently, it lay at what he assumed was the center of the island. and this cliff he’d climbed made a perfect vantage point; allowing him a first, good look at the spire and the power contained at its top, without having to actually get in too close.                                                                        he wanted to stay hidden. for now… but his cover, the simple dark of night had been blown. he froze, in the shadows dancing between trees, yellow eyes faintly aglow from beneath his hood. regarding the one pointing a blaster at him. finally! a blaster… he’d only come across those pesky slugthrowers so far. that was not what hit him, however, because the stranger’s visor, a distinct T, glinting in the faint moonlight… he immediately recognized it. a mandalorian? here? no way. especially feeling the force gather around him confused him——–a child? he cursed himself for wavering. then again, maul confidently blamed this place for leaving his powers stuttering.                                     the child was the source, the one connected. not the mando. the zabrak needed to think fast, act fast and now, and made the decision. shaky hands raised as if to indicate surrender, to indicate he was unarmed (more like, no weapon in his hands). “ d-don’t shoot! “ his voice cut through the silence, a voice croaky and old. this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for, to find someone to question and to finally shed some light into… all this. so he couldn’t possibly let it slip away.                        “ i-i am just trying to make sense of this place. “ not even a lie.                        “ please don’t shoot, i am unarmed! “ that… definitely a lie.

A Zabrak? Mando’s helm tilts up slightly as he takes in the look of this stranger’s face, and the arm that carries the Child tightens the slightest bit more around him to keep him secure. He doesn’t recognise the tattoos on this one’s face, but it isn’t his status as a stranger that’s so concerning.

“I doubt you’re unarmed,” he says evenly, and given that, he keeps his blaster pointed without a second thought to the Zabrak’s comfort. “Nobody’s unarmed here.”

And even if he did come from home, that’s hardly a guarantee for harmlessness, either. The cloak the stranger wears is certainly no comfort, that being said.

“Your weapons. Remove them and put them down.”

Mando’s posture hasn’t changed, and the grip on his blaster remains as steady and calm as it had been when this started.

“Those are my conditions for talking.”

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

It truly amazed John that he had somehow been so content not seeing Din’s face every time they had been intimate before they were married. Even then, there were times the helmet had to stay on, and of course he understood, but jeepers did the faces the other make just make everything that much more thrilling.

Jonesy loved how expressive his husband was. It made everything that much more intimate. There was no beating around the bush or guessing games. Everything was open and honest and them.

A soft hum buzzed in his throat as he felt the twitch on his tongue.

John gave the slightest of nods to acknowledge his words, keeping his gaze upon Din as he confirmed that he could do slow. Though, in truth, he couldn’t help but wonder just how long he’d be able to stay at a slow pace before gripping him by the back of his hair and forcing his cock down his throat in the most deliciously dominating way.

But then, that’s what this is too, isn’t it? This is Din claiming him while still being fair and keeping it slow like he had wanted.

God he had loved Din so much.

As Din readjusted the position of his head, John shifted onto his knees, arching his back so he was a bit more comfortable as well as stable. The last thing he wanted was to worry about ruining the mood because he couldn’t get his footing.

The curve of John’s back is obscene, and Din’s cock throbs as his fingers twist that much more in his hair, holding his head steady so he can rock up into him.

“Gods.” He’s trying for slow, in and out and in again, but the sound of John’s spit wet around him makes his head spin, and Din has to grit his teeth to get his focus back. “John--”

And John’s gorgeous, all positioned for him like this, and the only reason Din looks away from his pink lips is because he can’t get over the offering of his body-- the curve of it, the firm muscle, the fading pink of teeth marks he’d littered down his spine the morning earlier. The arch of his spine and the swell of his ass have him hardening good and proper in his mouth; Din gulps, flushes right up to his ears, and has to bite his lip to keep from saying anything stupid.

He keeps mumbling, though. Each rock of his hips comes with a low grunt, and Din’s eyes shut when John starts to drool (it’s too much, he’ll want to fuck him, it’s too much, he’s so fucking much--). His own head falls back as Din runs his fingers through his hair and pants, his palm falling onto the mattress so he can curl his fingers into the sheets, too.

“Sorry,” he gasps, his hips starting to pump-- not hard, not yet, but now his thrusts come in beats instead of slides, the head of his dick pushing against John’s tongue and smearing the mess that spills out of the slit. “I can’t help... feel so good, cyare. Ah...

“Suck.” Din’s hips jerk up, his breath hitching. “Please--”

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

Jonesy’s heart swelled a bit in his chest as he heard Din’s gratitude. He wasn’t certain what about it exactly made him melt, but then the man clearly was capable of making him swoon in the oddest and most random of moments.

It only serves that the faintest hold on his head would elicit the same type of response as well.

A part of John feels selfish for how almost embarrassingly hard he’s getting over Din taking control like this since this was supposed to be for him, but he couldn’t help himself. The feeling of his hands in his hair and the slow, shallow movements of his hips were some of the sexiest things he could ever imagine. 

His cheeks grow warm and closes his eyes as he allows himself to enjoy the bliss of the weight of Din’s cock in his mouth and on his tongue.

Opening his eyes in a faint haze, he looks up at his husband as he speaks up. 

“Mhm,” he tries to respond with the tiniest of nods, despite his mouth being slightly full. Just because they only had three hours didn’t mean John didn’t want to pretend he had all of the time in the world with him. They rarely went slow, which was by no means a bad thing, but he wanted it, just this one night, to show Din how much he appreciated him.

He slid his hand from around Din’s length and settled both of his hands onto the tops of his lover’s firm thighs. 

One hand braced himself while the other sluggishly moved up and down the clothed muscle, massaging it tenderly in a gentle reminder that this was for him. If he didn’t want to go slowly, he didn’t have to. John trusted him completely and if he wanted to make the calls, he had no objections.

Din’s barely done anything and already the blue of John’s eyes is different. A pulse of want hits him almost instantly at the sight of him-- it’s not fair, for John to look like that-- but once more he quells the urge to take, to be impatient.

He can wait. (For John, he’ll do anything.)

“Easy,” he breathes, feeling the comforting slide of John’s hand over his thigh. “It’s...” He draws back, dick twitching against John’s tongue, and takes in a breath that flares his nostrils. Calm the fuck down, Djarin. “It’s all right.

“I can do slow.”

It’s easier, anyway, with real feeling around him. Every slow drag of his cock sends an equally slow burn in the pit of his stomach; Din shuts his eyes and focuses, and his hips roll up and up, again and again just to stretch John’s lips out. The mattress shifts beneath them, the sheets rustling gently with each motion, and Din swallows as he sinks himself deeper.

There’s another twitch with the tip of him pressed against the heat of John’s cheek. Din’s face warms, and he pulls his left hand from his riduur’s hair to push himself up on an elbow and look at him.

Din’s fingers pull, tilting John’s head just enough to slide himself in another inch deeper, and he swallows hard as John’s lips stretch the tiniest fraction tighter.

“--shit.”

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

John finally snorted at Din’s whining.

“God, you’re so needy,” he jokingly grumbled. He bit down on his hip bone with just enough pressure to mark him before soothing his tongue over it. “Fine, if it’ll get you to stop your whining, I’ll hurry it along.”

John moved his hand from Din’s length before repositioning himself. 

He only took the time to pull his pants down to release him instead of fully undressing him.

Dragging his tongue from the base of his palm to the top of his fingertip, John made sure his hand was nice and wet before wrapping it around Din once more.

With a glance up at him, John gave him the silent approval that Din could do whatever he wanted before wrapping his lips around the tip.

John aims for bone and Din’s hips buck uselessly with it, lips parted around a breathless ‘ah’. It’s good-- reaffirming, in a way-- and leaves just enough sensation for him not to feel too upset when John lets him go (it isn’t as if he’d been doing anything).

“Thank you.”

Din’s got some fraction of a smile on when his arm lifts somewhat from his eyes, though this is swiftly replaced with the press of his lips and a short gulp the moment John’s fingers curl around his stiff dick. It’s not that the sensation is new, really, but his face flushes all the same at the gentle pressure of John’s mouth.

“Hnn.”

His immediate thought is to push in all the way. John’s mouth is wet, and warm, and his lips all pink and shiny with spit are always so nice to look at.

His second thought, though-- one that has his hips pressing to the mattress again in a definite attempt at control-- is to follow the pace John had set earlier.

A low growl builds in his chest. His other hand mirrors the first, cradling John’s head and curling fingers oh-so lightly into his hair. He rocks up, the head of his cock slipping further into John’s mouth, but just enough to round his cheek without delving deeper. Like it’s their first time. Like he still doesn’t know what John can take, like he’s still deathly afraid of hurting him.

“This” -- he pulls back, rubbing slow over John’s tongue -- “is what you wanted, right?”

Forward again, the tip of his cock brushing the roof of John’s mouth. He barely sinks into him.

“Slow?”

[mandosgeorg]

@dinluke17 sent: 49 UvU   > back part of a library // meme.

There aren’t any rules about staying at the hubs in the late hours of night, this much Mando knows. He can’t sleep, the island is silent, and he’s just about finished the collection of books Jones had given him in his apartment.

So here he is, reading in the library in the surface hub beneath the Colosseum.

He doesn’t expect to have anyone accompany him, not besides the Child who sleeps soundly in his closed hoverpram. But the click of fancy dress shoes is unmistakable, and Mando lifts his head from where he’s perusing a statistical analysis of every weapon the island’s ever had on it.

The sight of Jones has him rising swiftly to his feet, standing at attention. He knows it’s unnecessary-- he’s off-shift, after all-- but still.

“Sir.”

Strange. This is the first time he’s met Jones outside of work.

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

Jonesy thrived on the subtle and not so subtle movements from Din’s body. The stuttering of the muscles in his abdomen, the tension in his hips, the way his fingers clenched in his sandy locks, it just drove John mad. He wanted nothing more than for Din to feel good, and he thought those types of movements were good gauges.

But then so was his impatience.

“Oh yeah?” he purred flirtatiously, dragging his tongue along the middle of his belly. “Then what’s the problem? ‘Cause it feels like a lack of trust on my end.”

Of course he knew Din trusted him, but who was he to pass up the chance to tease?

John fights the laugh bubbling in his gut as he hears Din’s huff, looking up at him and seeing the way his arm is draped over his eyes. It was amazing how a lethal bounty hunter like himself who has no doubt kept his cool under the most dire of situations could be taken apart so quickly but the slightest of teasing.

Though, at the request, he hummed.

“I can definitely do that,” John promised and nipped just beneath his belly button for emphasis.

The slight press of teeth gives its own little sensation, but it isn’t nearly what Din expected.

Insufferable, he thinks vaguely. My riduur is being insufferable.

But aloud, he mutters, “...how long does it take to go down.”

[mandosgeorg]

@sithwithagun sent: 27 > really anywhere quiet at midnight, the air vibrates // meme.

The baby’s just stopped crying. Mando keeps rocking him from side to side, though; sometimes if he stops too early, it makes the kid burst into tears again.

They’re standing on the little cliff overlooking the desert, Mando having gone there as he walked to calm the Child down. From this distance, he can’t hear it. But it pulses and shimmers in the sky, and he’s been close more than enough times to be able to imagine the noises it makes. He stands there a while watching the Zero Point, knowing that someone else is on duty but unable to help himself nevertheless. He doesn’t understand it. But, frankly, he’s not sure he really cares enough to.

“Let’s go home, ad’ika,” he says gently, but by then the Child’s started to snooze, his cheek smushed up against Mando’s cuirass. He doesn’t mind much, though.

Mando nearly misses it on his way down from the cliff. The movement. The slight flutter of a cloak.

But with the baby in his left arm, he swiftly pulls his blaster out with his right and aims at a particularly skinny tree. His helm turns, his visor unflinching.

If he shoots, the rest of the Order’s guards will come running from their patrol. (Mando never misses, though.)

“Show yourself.”

[mandosgeorg]

Liminal Space Meme

Send me a random number for a starter/drabble with our characters in the setting of a liminal space #1-104 (some repeats, mostly taken from this list)

a playground at night

rest stops on highways

deep in the mountains

churches at night

abandoned 7/11’s

your bedroom at 5 am

hospitals at midnight

warehouses that smell like dust

lighthouses with lights that don’t work anymore

empty parking lots

ponds and lakes in suburban neighborhoods

rooftops in the early morning

inside a dark cabinet

A pond on a roof

early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed
trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic
schools during breaks

those little beaches right next to ferry docks

bowling alleys

a cornfield next to a country road

your friends living room once everybody but you is asleep
laundromats at midnight

hospital waiting rooms 


airports from midnight to 7am

cemeteries 


abandoned penitentiaries 


hilltops at night in full moonlight 


empty barns 


marshes 


really anywhere quiet at midnight, the air vibrates 


old stones and henge 


the ocean when it’s still quiet with fog over it


train tracks that go through the middle of the woods 


bridges 


ancient places 


stands of old growth forest 
rabbit paths off hiking tails 


trails between the main ski hills 


winter twilight


back allies between houses


logging roads


dirt roads on fall evenings with leaves falling off the trees 


libraries before closing


anyplace where it’s snowing before sunrise 


the woods during a rainstorm

roads covered with snow with trees on the sideways while snowflakes are falling out of the sky


train stations after 10 PM


outside, right before a massive storm


the woods just after twilight


the beach in winter


the bottom of swimming pools 


empty beaches when its snowing

back part of a library 


late night empty streets 


highways late at night 


windy roads 


windy roads at night when you can only see the immediate road 


abandoned parking lots (office buildings, homes) 


anywhere immediately after a really bad fight 


little towns late at night when no ones awake and the only lights on are the street posts

the lakeside anytime between 2 and 6 am

firework shows when you’re sitting on the grass

House on a lake

being the only one downstairs on christmas  

stepping outside in the early morning when it has just snowed

when its dark and you see snowflakes falling down in the light of a lamppost on the lonely road

that one clear spot in the forest with trees surrounding it

a parked car in a snow/thunderstorm

corn fields with the wind blowing over them

malls when they’re about to close for the night

woods at twilight/dawn

being on a train after midnight

theme parks at night

winding back roads with rolling fog


seeing “open” signs when its really foggy and cloudy


being in a train that was crowded when you got in and now its quiet, looking at the seats knowing that there were people sitting there moments ago and now they’re gone


hiking trails that have nobody on them 


being alone in an elevator for a few minutes 


looking down at the forest when you’re standing somewhere high and seeing the top of the trees with fog lingering over them


the ferry about to take off in the middle of the night 


tree houses


empty seats on the late night train


4-6 am on a winter morning

Feeling chased

the clouds/damp coming out of your mouth when its really cold in the morning 


stepping out on an unfamiliar metro/train stop


greenhouses that have been left to grow alone


cemeteries in the middle of fields


biking/walking on the main road when its dark without cars


swamps with fog 


hotel corridors in the middle of the night


anywhere where you can hear a train whistle in the distance but you can’t see it or know just how far away it is


foggy mornings in a meadow 


that flickering streetlight


working offices at midnight

long, dark hallways

the middle of a park when its snowing

being in a forest where there are train tracks not knowing if the train may even ever approach

bonfires

a little lake in the middle of the forest

lonely swings

overgrow field/yard

the woods on a night with a full moon

empty stables

rest stops

empty metro stations that are usually crowded

gas stations on long mountain roads

the old part of a city when you’re the only one in the street

[mandosgeorg]

CHRIS HEMSWORTH Rottnest Island, Australia (March 15, 2019)

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

The warm breath from John’s laugh brushed against Din’s skin as he glanced up at him from under his eyelashes. “And here I was worrying that it was my ego talking,” he teased.

God, does John love it when he grips his hair. It doesn’t matter how mildly or roughly he holds it. It was always grounding, in a sense.

As he heard Din’s grumble, Jonesy gave some mercy and tightened his hold ever so slightly. Though, his pace stayed almost identical to what it had been. He couldn’t cave to Din’s whims that easily. If he did, he’d be riding him within minutes, and that’s not what he wanted. Not yet, anyway. He just wanted to take care of his husband in one of the few ways he knew he couldn’t mess up.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised as he leaned down and kissed along his abdomen. “I promise, I’m going to take good care of you.”

He dragged his lips and lightly scraped his belly, trying not to let the thrusts of his hips or the way he was hardening in his hold get to him.

Din’s hips press back into the mattress at the vague shift in pressure, breath hitching pleasantly.

“It’s not my doubting you’ve got me that’s the problem,” he mumbles, sucking his stomach in against the scrape of John’s teeth for just a beat before relaxing again.

Patience isn’t foreign, necessarily, but it’s different with the helmet off; like this all he wants is affection, since the only people he removes his helm for are Clan, anyway. It’s only so much worse now because John’s tinged that need with sex-- not that sex is bad, necessarily. But God, if John was going to take so much time...

Din slides one arm over his eyes, huffing, resisting the urge to thrust his hips now that he knows it’s not going to do anything but disrupt John’s rhythm.

“At least mark me.” The fingers in John’s hair rustle through. “...please.” Can’t forget his manners.

[mandosgeorg]

lowqualityrp​:

John can’t help but be firmly endeared by Din’s earnest behavior. He loved how much the man wanted him, even so early on into their tryst. He couldn’t help but thrive on the fact that all it took were the brush of his lips and the caress of his fingers to get him like this.

He loved it even more when he felt the hold on his hair, taking a moment to hold back a soft moan.

A coy smirk moved onto him as he got the approval. 

“So eager,” he purred as he kissed down to Din’s neck, sucking just enough to give him a matching mark.

Though, happy as ever to oblige, John slowly curled his fingers around his length, leisurely moving his hand up and down his cock as he peppered kisses all over his chest.

He can’t even feel especially irritated about being teased. With the pressure of John’s lips on his skin making his head fall back, Din breathes out a low, “Yeah.” Eagerness is only to be expected. “For you. Always.”

Even more so with the friction of John’s hand against his dick.

“Ah--” Din’s never really been able to shut up in moments like these, even with the limited slide of John’s fingers. His basics hardly give the man any space to move, and the touch of his palm is dry, but still Din curls his fingers in John’s hair whilst one hand lands on his shoulder.

“S’not enough.”

Din’s chest rises and falls with his breathing; his cock twitches, though, and as his hips give a few impatient bucks, he starts to stiffen properly, too.

"Hnn.”