#idk yall its rough out here

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

yeehaw just wrote over 3k and i can't publish Any of it without miles of fantasy au context

[lemongogo]

hi

[atzfilm]

dragging myself through the tags desperately

[rosebramblewolf]

im going to make art about this

[pibsboots]

HEY BLOCK NEVERAFTER SPOLIERS SO FAST IF YOU DON'T WANNA SEE EM ITS SO NECESSARY

[dogwittaablog]

how does he aim out of his league? and is hard to please when it comes to women? I swear I feel like the girl for him is just not in Winnipeg lol maybe somewhere else

He's aimed for girls that were above his physical appearance and social status before.

Eh I have mixed opinions if he's actually hard to please or not, like yeah he does seem "picky" (to an extent) on who he'd want to date, but at the same time I think as any human that seems quite normal to me? like everyone should have some kind of standard/preference they hope is met by their partner, why settle for less?

I also think because he's been single for so long, most just want to assume it's because he has high standards as some kind of explanation, though in reality its probably cause he doesn't care and has other priorities.

[shotmrmiller]

Submitting to his dominance— part III

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: dubious-con???, light mentions of violence, tied up for a moment, biting, thigh riding, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie, this is just vulgar idk what to say.

WC: 3k

A/N: this is it. i didn't plan on using the small drabble of jealousy for this but it worked better for me in the end. this is totally self-indulgent gg yall

You’re on a call with a friend, excitedly discussing your upcoming date with Gaz. Telling her how the both of you are still getting to know each other, just dipping your toes in the water— but the chemistry you both felt was natural, and your friend was screaming on the other end of the line, excited for you.

Approaching your front door, you’re giggling at something they said when you turn your doorknob and push. It opens.  Unlocked. You never leave your flat unlocked. After a moment, you let your friend know you’ll call her later and pivot, dialing the police. Just as you’re about to leave, a recognizable voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Get inside, pet.” 

Ghost. 

Resolutely shaking your head, you firmly say, “No. I blocked you for a reason. Stay here as long as you like, I’m going to Johnny’s.”

In a split second, you find yourself yanked back by a forceful hand clutching onto your hair, causing a jolt of pain as a few strands give way. The grip on your hair intensifies, and you're forcefully dragged into your apartment, confined within its walls with a slam of the door. 

“Are you fucking—”, Ghost cuts you off with a rough palm over your mouth. Anger surges through your veins, nostrils flaring,  and you lift your arm to strike him when he uses the hand covering your mouth to slam your head against the wall— not too hard but with just enough strength to remind you of the position you’re in. Who you’re in here with.

“Hands to yourself, girl. You’d be pickin’ a fight you couldn’t even dream of winnin’.”

Maybe he had a suspicion that you’d test him again because he swiftly rotated you and fastened your wrists with zip ties behind you— before turning you around once again to face him.

How fucking dare he. Oh, if looks could kill. 

You give him the most hateful scowl you can muster, and he looks at you for just a second, almost mockingly. He lifts the mask to uncover his mouth and then tries to press his lips to your neck, but that’s not about to happen. You move your head and shoulder to prevent him from getting anywhere near,  when he moves his hand to fist your hair and yanks. You don’t know what made your eyes tear up. If it’s the stinging ache of your scalp or the twinge in your neck from how hard he pulled. It was silly of you to think he wouldn’t just take what he wants— he’s done it so far.

Ghost has the nerve to chuckle as if he didn’t almost break your neck.

“Don’t be dramatic, pet. If I wanted y’dead, you wouldn’t have even seen me coming.” 

Not realizing you spoke aloud, you’re about to purposefully speak your mind when his lips latch onto the delicate skin of your neck, sucking hard, to the point of pain. And he does it again, on the other side. The sting of his hickeys causes you to whimper, and you assume he likes the noise that involuntarily slips out of you because he grinds his clothed erection against your core while sucking a mark on the fluttering vein in your neck. 

Ghost pulls back, fist still in your hair, and rubs his thumb across the throbbing bruises as if admiring his work. “Hey,” and moves his shirt to reveal his neck— showing you a half dozen blotchy marks that his other conquests put there, and with mirth says, “We match.” 

You start thrashing at that, as best you can while being restrained, and the intense fury of why you even blocked him in the first place comes back to the forefront of your mind. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream. You raise your leg to kick him when he readily grabs it, effortlessly lifting you off the floor. He lets your one leg hang over the arm he has sturdily planted on the wall before grabbing the other to do the same— and pins you flat with his hips, bulge pressed firmly against your cunt. Your arms ache with pain as they are ruthlessly pinned behind you against the wall, pulling a hiss of agony from you.

“Now, now,” he taunts, “There’s no need to get pissy over me sleeping with someone else. Y’asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend, lovie.” 

“Yeah,” you grit out, “You’ve made that clear enough, with your little flings Johnny told me about.” 

“Aw, and tha’s got your knickers in a twist, does it?” he grinds his hips, “Would you believe me if I said tha’ you’re the prettiest?”

You snort. “Piss off— and actually piss the fuck off. You can go get your dick wet with someone else.” 

“Why would I wanna do that when I got y’here spread open so willingly f’me?” and grinds his hips again. 

You were about to retort about the ‘willingly’ being questionable when he latches onto your skin again but this time, he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Your nails dig into your palms, eyes welling with tears at the sharp pain of the bite. 

“Ah— stop, please stop” and it feels like he bites down even harder before finally relenting. His teeth come off your skin leaving behind a dark, angry purple imprint. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, pet.”

Ghost looks up from the bite to your eyes and notices them glassy with unshed tears— licking off the ones that did spill. He trails soft stubbly kisses from your jawline to the corner of your mouth almost to coax it open. You wish you were a stronger person to resist his allure, but his mystique pulled you into his orbit. His touch ignited the spark in you to a flame, and you cave.

His mouth caresses yours open, your body melting against his. You let out little, breathy moans, and when he sloppily licked into your mouth, you caught his tongue and sucked— pulling the raunchiest, cunt-clenching sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. You let go of his tongue with a pop.

He moves his hands off the wall to dig into your arse and walks to your couch, putting your back to the cushions as he pulls off your pants. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you towards him, making you straddle his muscular thigh while his hands wrap around your waist, reaching for your bound wrists.

“I’ma take this off. I wouldn’t try hittin’ me again.” You feel a snap, the tingle of your blood rushing through the mark left by the zip tie, and shrug— in an attempt to ease some of the aches in your shoulders from being forcefully positioned for so long.

You side-eye the military pocket knife he used to cut the ties, wondering when he took it out— where he even hid it. Ghost leans forward to shrug off his leather jacket, pulls off his shirt while keeping his mask over his mouth, and tosses them to the other side of the sofa. You knew he was fit but seeing just how much made you a tad insecure. The separation of the muscle from the round of his shoulders to the bulge of his bicep, with the vein running along the bicep was mouthwatering. Strong vascular forearms, only one of them with a half sleeve. You can see the muscle striation of his full-looking pecs, his abs clear cut, obliques you could count with your fingers. Ridiculously fit, unlike yourself. Soft tummy, thick meaty thighs, and fleshy hips. He brings you out of your musing with a hard slap to your arse.

“Out of your head and back here w’me, eh?” he says while soothing the sting with his calloused hand. “I can feel how warm your cunt is through my jeans. Go on,” and lifts his hand to rub a thumb over your mound, “ride my thigh.”

The feel of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans and his thumb rubbing firm circles on it has your pussy growing wet, leaving a damp spot behind on him. One hand grips you to push you through the motions, and you continue to roll your hips— chasing the friction you need. 

The circles he’s drawing turn slippery as the tension of your impending orgasm intensifies. Your legs start to shake as you stroke yourself on the length of his thigh and the steady roll of your clit under his thumb is about to make you break, your walls fluttering when Ghost pulls away— abruptly leaving you at the ledge, and it stings. 

“Y’didn’t think I was gonna just let you come with how bratty you’ve been?” and you let out an angry whine. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as you do, and he shoves two of his long fingers into it, and curls them over your tongue— and you close your throat to prevent your gag reflex.

“Atta girl, love,” the smirk he gives is so irrationally smug, that you want to bite him. He puts both of his thighs in between your legs to spread you, letting him get a good look at your swollen, dripping cunt.

He pulls his fingers out glossy with your spit to rub them through your folds, then presses one, and then the other. He pushes to half the length of his fingers and curls, pushing directly on the sensitive patch of nerves. Ghost repeatedly presses against it, and the noises you and your cunt start to make are lewd, sloppy. 

Your pleasure starts to rise again, back to where he left you off with every precise drag of his fingers over your patch of nerves, your body feels like it’s radiating heat, your vision starting to go white when again, he leaves you hanging. Right at the fucking edge and you dry sob from how pleasurably painful it is. 

Ghost grabs your neck with a firm, wet grip and pulls your face to his, lips hovering over yours, breath mingling. 

“With me in you or none at all, pet,” and slaps your cheek, leaving behind a sticky residue. 

Quickly divesting himself of his jeans, he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he watches you bounce on your mattress. He’s about to crawl over to you when you put your foot flat against his chest. 

“I’m not fucking you without a condom when you still have the evidence of your promiscuity on you.” 

He grabs that ankle and wraps it around him, lifting its twin to do the same, then places himself between your thighs— resting some of his body weight on you. 

“I never sleep with anyone without protection. You’d be the first in many years,” and you scoff at him. He grabs your jaw, cheeks squishing under his fingers, demanding eye contact. 

“I’m many things but a liar isn’t one of ‘em. You’ve done so well f’me, been so obedient. You’re the only one I want to feel without any barriers. ” 

This reminds you of how much of a bastard he is. Taking wheat and spinning it into gold, just to get what he wants. 

“And how many times has that line worked for you?” whimpering at the feel of his heavy cock rubbing against your wet cunt. 

“You’re the only one I wanna see my cum drip out of, pet. I swear it,” and he starts to push into you. Even being as drenched as you are, your cunt still struggles to take him. He gives one thrust and it reaches halfway before it stops— almost like it’s stuck. Ghost pulls out, cock slippery and creamy with your juices then pushes in again. It’s like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water— he sinks to the hilt.

It burns. It’s an ache and his length feels too large, too much, but hearing this typically silent behemoth of a man mumbling into your ear has you groaning at his depth. 

“Fuck, baby, fuckin’ hell sweetheart—”, the salacious groan in your ear makes you clench your gummy walls around his invasion. He moves slowly, giving a series of unhurried, languid thrusts. 

“I’m gonna make sure this tight cunt fits me and no one else,” and that has you thinking if he said that because of your upcoming date, but then with a soft slap to your cheek, he shifts— bringing himself to his knees. Ghost grabs the back of yours and pushes them to your ears. You’re bent in half, can barely breathe, and then he gives you a knowing smirk— with just one corner of his mouth lifted as the only warning before he pounds into you. 

Viciously.

Unsparingly.

Every thrust of his has the tip of his head firmly pressing into your cervix with an obscene squelch. The deep pinch you feel against your womb brings tears to your eyes. 

He’s merciless with how hard he fucks you, and you can’t do anything other than take it, thoroughly pinned under his body weight. Ghost then lets go of one leg to cover your mouth with his hand before angling his hips upwards— just a tad and the angle is so sharp he has you screaming. He must’ve known exactly what was gonna happen because he’s completely unfazed by how loud you’re being, just presses down on your mouth even harder.

“Keep taking it, pet, I know you can,” he growls out, but it feels like he’s actually rearranging your guts, so deep inside you can feel him in your throat. His rhythm is unrelenting, and the coil that Ghost has kept tightly wound all this time threatens to snap, and you’re sure it’s going to break you.

He hisses as he feels your cunt quivering around his cock, and he definitely knows what’s about to happen because he then slows his hips and cuts through your pleasure with his selfish demand.

“You tell Gaz that this weekend is cancelled and I’ll fuck you against that wall and let you come,” and you’re babbling out your surrender, jerky nods of your head. You’re okay with losing this battle because you’re winning this war unequivocally. 

Ghost pulls out aggressively, pulls you to the edge of the bed to position your ankles at his shoulder, and lifts— walking to the wall, pinning you. He slaps your arse before sliding back in again. 

“M’good girl has earned her reward, hasn’t she?” and with that, he lets spit dribble from his mouth to land on your clit. 

“Lemme see you touch yourself,” and resumes his thrusts, this time pushing directly into your sweet spot, again and again. You rub circles in rhythm with his thrusting, your body starting to seize. 

“Fuck, tha’s it, love, fuck me,” and he moans when the nails of your unoccupied hand dig into his shoulder. “Jesus, yeah, scratch me. Leave a mark— I wanna see you on me tomorrow,” and he starts to piston into you at a punishing pace, and he in combination with your fingers has you careening into one of the most, if not the most, overwhelming orgasm of your life. 

You tense, and with no control, actually scream out your peak. Wave after wave of blindingly brutal pleasure, nothing but a ringing in your ears and your limbs that violently tremble— relieving the ache that has been in between your thighs for weeks, from Ghost’s ruthless edging. 

The choking vice your cunt has on his cock sends him over, groaning out his climax. He’s grinding so deep in you that it just hurts, then thrusts himself into oversensitivity. 

He backpedals, taking you with him in his arms, and falls back onto your bed with a grunt. You’re rubbing the marks your nails left on his shoulders— just an imprint. Good. Then, you shift yourself upwards, straddling his ribcage to touch the lovebites. 

“You didn’t really think I’d leave a trophy for you to take home, did you?” and his dark eyes unblinkingly stare at you. Gazing right back, you say, “I won’t be a part of your collection.” But you’re not sure if you aren’t already, seeing as how it’s his cum dripping out of you and landing on his stomach. 

“But an agreement is an agreement,” and get up to grab your phone. Sending Gaz a quick text, you then turn the screen towards Ghost. 

Can’t see you this weekend, Gaz. Sorry:(

Oh, the belly laugh Ghost lets out at the response Gaz sent makes your face flush.

We talked about this, doll. Our date is next weekend. 

“Now I,” you get up, leaving Ghost lying on your bed with his spend drying on his belly, “am gonna go shower, and you can let yourself out. I asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend.”

As you saunter to your bathroom, you turn your head to end it with, “Seeing as how I won’t be needing you anymore, delete my number.” 

—

By the time you step out of your bathroom squeaky clean, your apartment is as if you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life. Everything looked in order, bed comforter tucked with hospital corners— empty. Except your phone wasn’t where you left it. You walk over to pick it up and on the screen is a text from Ghost’s number. He unblocked himself and changed the name of his contact to Simon.

If you wanted exclusivity, all you had to do was ask, love. Tell Gaz to fuck off for good, I’ll see you soon.

You quickly run to your bathroom and slam the door closed. Squealing, you dial Gaz’s number. 

“Hello, doll,” his voice is low, as if he was asleep.

“It worked! We did it! We—” and you cut yourself off, “Wait, did I wake you?”

He chuckles and you can hear another deep male voice in the background. 

“OH! Oh. You weren’t sleeping! OK! Sorry! So sorry! I’m hanging up!” and press the end call button. 

To beat the player, you must first learn how to play the game.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @channelsoph @imasimpl0l @hellshire-harlot @mesyakee @leeeenistop @kerst666 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thychuvaluswife

[quackityposting]

.

[tremendum]

where to start 

(gif not mine) pairing: din djarin x afab!reader (gender not specified, descriptions of afab genitalia)     rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     requested: yes, here !!! word count: 2.7k  summary:  Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start."  warnings:  SMUT. there’s like no plot. teasing, PiV (unprotected), Din has a praise kink, he begs, inexperience, loss of virginity, brief allusion to rough sex if you squint, yall cant convince me Din isn’t a stuttering little mess, riding in the pilot’s seat!!, sliiiight dom!reader, slight discussion of Din being ashamed he’s a virgin, idk what else tbh  notes:  thank u for requesting this! i just wrote it in like 30 mins haha. i hope yall like it i love my space cowboy boyfriend <3  this is unedited. reblogs/comments always motivate me hehe

   [other din fic          din series (be like me): masterlist  ]

★  

you stare at the cold metal in front of you. 

it stares back silently. 

your hand is itching to just go knock, to raise a few inches and rap your knuckles upon its shimmering, textured surface; it'll be so simple. so easy, definitely one of the easier things you've ever done. 

but the conversation that awaits on the other side- well.

that's not so simple. 

"why don't you go over there, Din?"  a glint of beskar as his head whips to you, alarmed. thrown off. a head tilt of irritation, "excuse me?"  a raise of your eyebrows, "oh, sorry, didn't realize we were playing innocent." you jut your chin towards the young woman who stands, twirling her hair and making bedroom eyes at Din from across the bar. jealousy curls up your throat - he'd been staring in her direction since you'd arrived, too. "come on, she's been staring at you the whole time. go- go do your thing." 

"that isn't funny." he mutters, causing the chilled pint of ale between your fingers to sear you as you flush. tough crowd.  "why do you assume I'm joking, hm?" you tilt your head again and he shakes his head. it's painful, the way you and Mando have been dancing around each other for weeks. a brush of a leather hand on the small of your back, a kind chuckle at something you say, your hands soothing over the thick cowl that hides his sore knots - the ones that form in his shoulders from carrying the jetpack - a murmur of your name when you're in danger, the curling of your hand around his arm in crowded public spaces. you're sure it's torture, but it seems neither one of you can make the move. 

"she's not looking at me like- like anything." he dismisses, arms curling over themselves in a cross of defense. you hum a laugh; who wouldn't look at Mando like that? 

"oh, c'mon. jus'go up and talk to her. she's probably dying for a big man like you to toss her around." you elbow him, winking. a slick, regretting coil of envy curls around your stomach as you take in the way his helmet tilts from you back to her; what the fuck are you doing? you silently beat yourself up, cheeks hot with the swirling complacency that befalls you following several drinks of ale. you sound like a complete moof milker as you let yourself encourage Mando to- to what, pursue another woman? 

how does that make sense to your brain?  

there's an echoing thud as Din slams his fist hard on the bartop. you jump, eyes wide as he shakes his head, turning to stalk straight out the doors, leaving you behind in his anger. 

yeah. the wall has never been so daunting before. 

you know you upset him earlier. he's been cooped up inside his bunk the whole night after you returned alone from the cantina, and no matter how much you've tried to ignore it, you know that it's your fault that you've made him angry. 

your fist raises. 

the metal whooshes before you can make contact, though, and your eyes meet the hard chest of beskar before you can take a step back. a soft oh leaves your lips as his helmet tilts microscopically down towards you for a moment; he's pushing hard past you with a fierce silence and without a second glance in your direction. 

"wait!" you call as he disappears up into the cockpit, the silence sterile in the Crest as he stalks out of view. you chew your lip as you scramble to follow him, knowing you at least owe it to him to apologize for what you'd said. 

he's sitting in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls as you soon start to engage in liftoff protocols; a thudding jolt as the Crest lifts off sends you stumbling into the chair as you stare, wide-eyed, shocked at Mando's abrupt behavior. he didn't even warn you that he was preparing your next track. 

you try; you really do. seven different attempts - yes, you counted them - to get him to speak, casually commenting on the smoothness of the Crest after your last maintenance day, asking him if he remembered the coolant you'd forgotten a few cycles ago, telling him about Grogu catching a flying-Banda and swallowing it whole mid-air; stupid shit. 

all you got in response was silence.

a sigh, maybe - his helmet wouldn't turn anywhere near you, and your glare cuts through the glinting on his head as stars race above you. it was just like when you'd first met, agreeing to go with him and work maintenance or grogu-sit when he needed it, and existing in weeks of silent tension, the man surrounded in so many walls that he could be armor-less and still the most impenetrable person in the galaxy. 

he was cold. you'd pushed him back into the shell you'd spent months working to chip away. 

"Din." you say flatly, crossing your arms. he doesn't respond; not even a huff, or a grunt, or a movement of muscle to indicate he heard the word. 

"look, I just- I want to apologize. okay?" you say desperately, shaking your head. but he catches you off guard yet again as he speaks up, voice heavy and more hot than normal; like he's been stewing with his thoughts for far too long. 

"-I don't want some random woman. I don't just sleep with anybody because I think they're attractive." his voice moves through the cockpit in defiance and you sit back in your chair, blinking for a moment. oh.  

you clear your throat, unsure how to approach what he's said; a sick, twisted part of you scowls at his insinuation that he'd found the woman from the bar attractive; but of course he did. she was. and you're unable, still, to deny the throbbing ache of desire that dully spreads through you at the very dim prospect that you are not just a random woman to him.

"I was out of line. I over-stepped." you try again. 

"do you think I'm upset that you teased me back at the cantina?" he clips, taking you off-guard. your brows furrow, tilting your head, "y-yes?" it comes out like a question of your own, in your doubt. 

he sighs. the weight of it smashes you back as you furrow your brows; he will not go into another bout of silence again, you won't let him. no. 

"what is it, Din?" you ask gently, leaning your elbows onto your knees. 

he breathes out, hand twitching by his side. "I just-"

you're not sure what spurs his sudden admission; be it from frustration or a genuine desire to confide in you, his only companion besides a 50-year-old baby. 

"I don't have- I don't have much experience." he admits, voice laced with embarrassment. he sounds much more unsure of himself than normal. "because of the Creed- I have lived differently than others." 

oh. oh.

you flood with emotion, eyes flying wide. "oh, Din-" you feel like you're on fire in embarrassment, shaking your head in regret, "I'm- I didn't even think about that. I shouldn't have-" 

"please," he almost whimpers it, "stop." 

you do. 

he lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, hands on his lap. "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start." 

you nod, throat dry. his composure, the sweet genuine tilt in his voice; your underwear slicks as you wait for him to continue. the air feels... thick with anticipation. 

he's breathing more shallowly, his hands gripping his beskar thighs as he keeps your gaze. "I don't...know how to get what I want from..." he stops, his helmet fully facing you. your words are dead on your tongue as you stare at him; your heart thunders as you beg him to say it. 

"from you." he finishes, body still as he awaits your reaction. 

heat spreads through your entire body as you stare at him, fire licking your fingertips. he wants- he wants you. he wants you. 

you swallow your fears in one sentence, "have you considered... asking?" 

your voice has it's desired effect. his chest almost shivers as he lets out a soft breath, hands clenching as you stand from your seat to walk, slowly, towards his chair. you're more than thankful you'd had the thought to change from your hunting clothes; your shorts, breezy and loose, sit barely below the curve of your ass and you don't miss the way Din's helmet moves with the sway of your hips.

his helmet tilts to stare up at you when you set your hands on each side of his arm rests, leaning in close. you can smell his scent as you smile sweetly, "I would say yes, you know." you whisper next to his helmet as he lets out a strangled noise. 

it’s a split second before he shakily groans. "I want you." he finally gasps, "I need you." 

you let out your own shaky breath as arousal floods your underwear, arousal swirling in your stomach. "I want you too, Din." you press a soft kiss to his forehead, the cool beskar tingling your heated, desiring lips. 

his hands remain clenched until you slide yourself onto his lap, settling yourself to straddle him in the pilot's chair, a fantasy you've imagined almost every night since you've met the man. you don't even suggest removing the beskar; he deserves to be comfortable as possible, and you flush when you realize you like the sharp bite of the metal on your bare skin. 

your hands explore the long, sturdy planes of his chest and neck, over the ruched material, threads loose under the tips of your fingers, armor cold. you can feel him under your aching heat; he's already semi-hard, his breath falling from his helmet in breathy grunts as you slowly, gently rock against him. "you can touch me, Din." 

it's like he's snapped to life; hands fly up to your hips, tugging your chest impossibly close as he mutters into your ear, "fuck, cyare." 

it starts slow; your bodies glued to each other, exploring every inch you'd desire to discover before, the blue-electric lights of hyperspace coaxing the two of you into a dreamlike state. 

but he gets desperate quick. 

he's groaning, straining hard and thick against his flightsuit; as your hand falls to palm him as you rock your clothed clit over the material, you're momentarily concerned that if you aren't warmed up before taking him, he may not fit. "you're so big, Din." you whisper as your lips flutter along the seam of skin exposed between his helmet and cowl. he lets out a moan of your name, one hand pulling you by your back towards him, the other digging into the plush of your ass, sneaking under the fabric of your sleep shorts. 

"cyare, please-" he gasps, voice begging, "need to- need to be inside you." 

you smile, kissing the hot skin of his pressure point, tongue slinking up as his heart pounds. "there, that's how you ask, Din." 

you press another kiss to him, your hands moving to undo his flight suit, pulling his thick cock out; he ruts upwards with a sharp moan, hand digging into your ass so hard it may leave marks. 

pre-cum leaks out of him in beads; he's so goddamn hard, whimpering at your touch. you feel your slick dampen your thighs through your underwear, shivering with desire. 

you pull your underwear to the side swiftly, rising onto your knees as he stables your hips up above him. his chest sputters, grunting as you start to move your hips, teasing him with your velvety wet cunt. 

broken grunts of Mando'a leave his helmet, his fists tightening as his helmet falls back to thud against the back of his pilot's chair. "please, mesh'la, please." he mutters. 

you can't wait any longer; soon you're shifting, prodding yourself over his head, gently taking just a bit of him inside you. your gasps are in tandem at the tight, warm stretch; "Din, y'gonna fill me up so well." 

he moans at that, hands rising to hold your shoulders, his thick, muscled arms swallowing your frame as he hums, "fu-uck, n-need you mesh'la." 

you nod, your breath fogging up his helmet as you desperately shift your hips, preparing to take him into you. and then slowly, you let your legs relax slightly. 

"M-Maker-" Din stutters, the weight of his helmet dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly lower yourself; his cock, thick and warm, eases you open gently, the pain of his stretch curling your toes in your boots. “yes,” you hiss, swallowing dryly as your hands, stabilizing themselves on his neck and shoulder, grip tight. 

you have to ease yourself down onto him; his hips buck up harshly, as if he can't help himself, his tip sheathing so far into you that it prods at your tender cervix, causing you to yelp in pleasure. 

"s-sorry." he mutters, hands shaking as he holds on to you, "can't-f-fuck, it feels so- you feel so warm. y'so tight. ’m not gonna-" 

you nod desperately, starting to move yourself, fucking him slow as his hands hold you. 

"feels good. you're so good, you're so good for me." you mutter, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you. he moans loud as you mutter praises, his cock so deep; dragging through your walls, hitting an angle which nudges that delicious spot inside you.

a groan of your name has you smiling as you suck a mark dark onto his neck; you start to build up the pace, the simmering arousal soon spurring you to chase the building pleasure. 

"yes, yes." you nod, peppering kisses over his throat, nails clawing to expose more of the forbidden, golden skin. you feel him clench below you; his hard, cold thighs tense under the beskar, the muscles of his abdomen flexing under the protection as the lewd noise of your connection echoes through the cockpit. 

he's close, you know it. 

you want him to cum, you want him to be consumed by it; you want him to consume you, you want to consume him. you tug him as you maintain your pace, legs burning as you chase your own orgasm. 

"y'gonna cum, Din?" your voice is laced sultry and aroused, fogging his helmet as he nods, broken moans of ecstasy leaving his helmet. "yes, f-fuck- I-" 

"yes, cum, baby." you mutter, his hips soon spurring to thrust up and meet your own movements, the pet name making him shiver. you let out a yell, cracking with pleasure as he holds you immediately to you, his whimpers echoing with your moans. 

he finishes with a moan of your name and a slam of his fist hard onto the console next to you; all of the lights in the cockpit shut off at his action but you can barely notice as his orgasm paints your channel, hot and thick. you're out of breath as he rides out his high, ropes of cum filling you. 

he twitches inside of you as you stutter to a stop, your wetness causing a stain on his flightsuit below you. 

his head lifts from your shoulder, voice wrecked, chest panting. "you didn't- you didn't finish." he sounds confused, embarrassed. 

you flush at his statement - he just had sex for the first time, and is disappointed you didn't cum? you let your hands rub soothing circles over the parts of his shoulders that aren't covered with armor. 

"n-no, Din- that was 'bout you." you sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the contoured beskar of his cheek. "we have next time." you ensure him, gasping as his hips still rock up into you gently, his softening cock pushing his cum deeper inside of you; holding it there. 

keeping him inside you. 

he stiffens, head rising to look at you. "no." he mutters, his hands dragging down your spine, catching on your hips, sliding back up to grope your breasts. "show me how to make you cum now. please, mesh'la." 

another rush of arousal floods you, shivers running down your body as you grin with a flush. resisting a loud moan of desire, you nod gently.  "okay." 

- 

requests open

- 

[devilmademewriteit]

Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!

You Can Be the Boss

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).

Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !

more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)

-em<3

—

“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”

- You Can Be the Boss

—

It was still a secret, after all.

Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.

Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.

Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.

“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.

A quick zip, then footsteps.

“Oh, sorry man—”

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”

It’s your father.

You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.

“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”

Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.

Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.

Not fair.

If only there was a way to even out the playing field.

Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.

And you get an idea.

The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.

So your pussy drips just thinking about it.

Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.

It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.

Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.

“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”

Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”

You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.

“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”

Trouble? You’re looking at him.

Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.

You want to make him lie through his teeth.

You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.

While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.

“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”

You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.

It hasn’t.

Of course it hasn’t.

Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”

Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.

You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.

And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.

“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.

“A heavy hand.”

You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.

Like he always did. Like he always does.

“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”

“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.

Making his point.

You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.

Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.

He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”

A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.

Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.

Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.

You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.

You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.

They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.

“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.

Dangerous.

And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.

“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”

Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.

His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.

“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.

You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.

“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”

And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.

��

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

AO3

[redr0sewrites]

I’m obsessed with your hazbin stuff rn it’s incredible

idk how much you could write for this but you write a bit about sub vox after you finish fucking him. so basically just vox aftercare. I don’t think he’d be super into non-sexual touch but I think while in subspace/while coming out of it he would be super clingy and touchy.

I’ve been thinking about taking care of a fucked out vox for a while and I’m obsessed with the image.

thank you in advance and have a nice day <33

YESSSSS!!!! im a huge sucker for aftercare ♥️

🥀Cw: fluff, aftercare, mentions of smut but nothing explicit, bathing

listen, no matter what type of sex yall are having, whether its rough and fast or slow and soft, vox always ends up exhausted

after subbing vox is always clingier than usual, but he's also a lot more emotional than usual

wipe off his tears, wait for him to calm down and just let him cling to you before even starting the aftercare process

vox just needs to be held for a few minutes as he slowly begins to become slightly coherent

i don't see him as the type to want to talk much after sex, he'll mumble a little request or an "i love you" here and there but thats about it

vox pretty much melts into your touch, and he wants you to take care of him

he very rarely feels taken care of, and hes so stressed out most of the time that it just feels very foreign to him

when it comes to actually cleaning up after sex, vox is normally still too deep into subspace to do much

hes always overstimulated, and will def glitch out when you wipe off his thighs and clean him up

vox loves the intimacy of just laying back while you wash the slick off his thighs with a warm towel, pressing soft kisses to his screen and praising him as he comes out of subspace

he needs your praise and reassurance, especially when you were rough or mean to him

he'll try to be nonchalant and ask you if you really meant all the degrading things you said, but you can tell that vox's genuinely insecure about what you think of him

praise him and tell him you're so proud of him, tell him how he took you so well and how he's your good bot

vox is too incoherent and embarassed to reply but he clings a little closer to you and his screen flushes to a warmer pink

a lot of the time vox's claws will rip up the sheets and blankets, he feels bad about it but he can't control it in the moment so he'll try to help you out with setting the bed even though his legs are shaking and he's still barely coherent

PLEASE just shush him and tell him you can handle it, then run him a warm bath

considering vox is rich af ur bathtub is def big enough for the both of you, and he enjoys just laying with you in the warm water

he likes to admire all the marks you give him in the mirror, he adores seeing the hickeys and scratches on his skin

like i said he's not much of a talker after sex but he doesn't mind listening

he'll play with your fingers or trail his hand up and down your arm as you talk to him about your day

when you're both all cleaned up and relaxed, i think he'd (secretly) like it if you dressed him

theres something so intimate about you buttoning up his night shirt, giggling and pressing kisses to his screen as he pouts at you

vox pulls you on top of him when you guys are cuddling so that he can wrap his arms around you!

by this point he's def more coherent and out of subspace so he's not as clingy, but still wants your touch (if that makes sense lmao)

like he's too prideful to cling to you or ask you to hold him but really wants to be held

he'll pout when you spoon him but the fact that he practically melts into your touch betrays his true feelings

vox sleeps like the dead after being fucked and mornings after sex are the few mornings he actually sleeps in

overall, post sex vox is a side thats much softer than usual, and truly shows how much he loves and trusts you

pushing through these long ass work days yall- tmrws my last day so i'll be posting more next week!!!!!!! i need to write more fluffy stuff w vox its come to my attention that i literally only write nsfw for him 😭

[too-deviant]

idk if you’d be comfortable writing this but I was wondering if you could whip up an Aphrodite!reader who’s fed up with her beauty. She stops attending school and stays the full term at camp which makes Luke confused. So she tells him about how random dudes would hit on her and be creepy at her school or something. She’d prolly join him with Kronos bc she wants to feel respected for once. Would be such an angsty but filled with femme rage although totally cool if you choose not to write this~ Just wanted to share it with someone 💛

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Maybe you didn't want to be beautiful anymore.

Content: pretty angsty, brief mentions of male harassment but nothing explicit or triggering, again sorry for the wait i had w block pls forgive me. also not proofread sorry yall its been a rough week.

You were only faintly aware of the noise around you.

The chatter of the city was a mere buzz in the back of your head as you marched down the street. It amazed you, really, just how unbelievably dickish mortal boys could be. This one in particular; Mike Schwartz, a five foot something jock who sat on the bench at every game. He’d been a bother in your life since you started high school. Back then, you took the endless prospects as a compliment – you truly were your mother’s daughter. It was a boost to your weak teenage confidence. 

But as the years went by, the constant asking for your hand became an irritant. Especially when they couldn’t get the hint – at fourteen, turning down guys felt amazing, but when those same guys kept coming back for more, it made your eye twitch. Couldn’t they take the first no, tuck their tail between their legs and fuck off?

Apparently not. 

After four years of putting up with it, you were done. Storming out of the cafeteria, grabbing all your things, hailing a cab and getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe you should’ve stopped to think — called your dad, taken a few deep breaths. But the harder you thought about it, after trying not to for so many years, you came to the conclusion that you would’ve ended up here anyway. 

Here being the peak of HalfBlood Hill in the middle of September. It was only slightly unusual, because when you usually arrive at the start of summer you get to watch the crowds of arrivals setting up shop at camp. Now, however, it was fairly desolate. Less people, you knew. 

It was also a split second shock when you stepped across the border and felt the drastic change in weather. From the cool breeze of the autumn air to the warm summery spring that camp was in year-round. A shift that made you pause, but you kept on down the hill anyway. 

Chiron was waiting for you on the porch of the Big House, and without so much as a word, gestured for you to follow him inside. He was fairly understanding of your situation, but made you Iris Message your dad and tell him of your decision. He, too, was more glad you were safe than angry you ran off. 

“We can talk about this when you feel like talking.” He’d said. 

So you’d done it. Finally, you’d gotten yourself away from the hey hot stuffs and the you seeing anyone baby?s. You were back at camp, you were where you were most happy. 

But you weren’t happy. 

Being a year-rounder, you’d discovered, was a lot less busy than being a summer camper. You got more days off, longer breaks between activities. You found yourself spending more time in your own company; something you never really got to do before. Most of the time you were with your siblings, or your mortal friends, or you were being hounded by some frat boy and their friends.

It took a minute to get used to the loneliness, but you did. You explored camp, found places you hadn’t seen before. A cute clearing near a stream on the east side of the forest, or a Satyr sanctuary on the far end of the beach. You read more books, you trained a little harder, you perfected six new hairstyles on your little sister Elena and Annabeth from the Athena Cabin. 

And yet, you were still pissed off. 

“Why?” 

Luke Castellan was a name everyone knew in this little corner of Long Island. One of the oldest campers, head counsellor of the rowdiest cabin, token tour guide for the new kids. Oh, and the best swordsman camp had seen in, like, three centuries. He was cute, that much you’d heard all around your cabin. But you’d never really held a solid conversation with him until you became a year-rounder. The fewer people around, the more you run into him. 

You’d been practising a few neat tricks with a dagger when he spotted you. Said he was there to train himself for once and that you wouldn’t even notice he was there. You did, though. Especially when he took his shirt off twenty minutes in. 

You shared a water break, he asked you why you’d transferred to being a year rounder, and you indulge him in the story. He was super nice about it too, which made you angry. Was Luke the only nice guy on the planet? 

“But at least you’re happier now, right?” He’d said. You weren’t, you told him that much. He gave you this knowing look you’d never seen on him before, and asked Why?

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I love it here, I do. But I shouldn’t have to uproot my entire life and bring it here just to get some semblance of peace. I shouldn’t have to give up my education, my friends, my dad, just so I don’t have to get harassed every day. It’s not even like my mom gave me anything to help combat it, either. She just made me beautiful and told me to deal with the consequences! I mean,” You let out a weak chuckle, holding up the dagger you’d been toying with, “This was a birthday present from a friend in Cabin Six. Not even my mother, who is a warrior herself, could bother sending me a weapon. They really don’t give two shits about us, do they?” 

He’d parted his lips, eyes shining with something, and looked at you through his bottom lashes, “No. They don’t.”

You and Luke grew closer after that. A lot closer. By the time summer rolled around and the rest of the campers returned, you were inseparable. Many rumours spread but you two ignored them in favour of sneaking into that clearing you’d found and talking in whispers about your hatred for the gods. Who cared if they could hear you? Let them. 

It was Luke who had come up with the idea to steal the bolt. A quick job, in and out, and maybe then they’d listen to what you’d have to say. But they didn’t — they did exactly what they always did and risked the lives of two young demigods and a satyr just because they couldn’t be bothered doing it themselves. Selfish — that’s what they were. They didn’t care about anyone —

“ — but themselves!” You glared at Thalia, who stood before you atop Mount Tamalpais with her spear in your direction. “I mean, look at your dad. He didn’t care enough to stop the monsters from killing you, oh, but it’s okay because he turned you into a damn tree!”

“This isn’t the way!” Annabeth yelled from afar. Her hair was twisted in a style you’d taught her how to do that first year as a year-rounder. It broke your heart that she couldn’t see how right you and Luke were. 

“Curse them, Thalia.” You said plainly, holding up your dagger. Half mortal metal, half celestial bronze. A gift from Luke. “Curse your father and his children. His brothers. Curse them all like they deserve to be cursed! They deserve to be toppled.”

 You tilted your head, looking at them all. Luke and your army were heading steadily up the mountain. If you could convince them now, there wouldn’t need to be a battle. 

“Where are they now, huh?” You raised both your arms, “You’re fighting for your life against a titan on a mountain and the only god who came to help out was Artemis? And that’s just because she was here already.” You scoffed out a laugh, “You should thank us, really, for taking her. Had we not, you’d be dead already.” 

Annabeth watched. You were unrecognisable in that moment — your face streaked with dirt and blood, curled into a dark sneer that any of your siblings would berate you for because of the wrinkles you’d get. You didn’t seem to care all that much, though. Not when Thalia was lunging for you and attempting to pull you out of the rage you were in. Not when her spear and shield were no match for your measly dagger and you went toppling down the mountain. 

The next time any of them saw you was in Manhattan — after believing you to be dead for a year and a half, it came as a shock when you emerged from the crowd of monsters. Your hair was hacked short, and one of your legs had been replaced with a bronze prosthetic. You fought with a ruthlessness none of them had seen in you before, whether it be because you were on the losing side or because Luke had given his body to the Lord of Time before you had the chance to tell him you loved him. You were still angry, and even if you hated Kronos, you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you hated the gods. 

When Luke died, you were kneeled beside him. Your face was dirty, your hair was knotty, and there was a dent in your bronze leg. He lifted a hand to your face, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but…you’re sorta beautiful.”

“Sorta?”

He grinned, and then he died, and you were filled with such unbridled rage that you pushed yourself down to the ground of Manhattan and tore through Kronos’ army with fire in your eyes, not stopping until Apollo got rid of your sight and forced you to calm down. You didn’t know if you’d ever be calm, since the only person who ever understood you just died in your arms, but you dropped your dagger and stomped your way back up to Olympus like a bratty child anyway. 

Zeus didn’t punish you for what you did, but he did say he’d be keeping a firm eye on you. You joined the hunters, much to your mothers disdain, and didn’t ever allow yourself to look back.

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

Could you possibly write hcs for Miles G (e-42) with a very bubbly/naturally friendly s/o who tends to be pretty oblivious? They're academically intelligently but suck at understanding unwritten social cues.

(the type of person to who doesn't understand flirting tactics unless it's blatant so they tend to seem flirtatious but honestly are just trying to be friendly)

.

MILES 42 X CLUELESS!READER

A/N: I’m sorry this took long please forgive me! But yeah here’s your request!!

BE PREPARED FOR: LANGUAGE(EH),VIOLENCE,FLUFF,READER IS KINDA SLOW(BUTS ITS OK I AM TOO), ANGST??, POSSESSIVE/PROTECTIVE MILES, UHH IDK WHAT ELSE

You are considered book-smart but not street-smart, and Miles is totally aware of that and makes it his life mission to keep you safe.

Yall definitely get into arguments from time to time because you entertain flirting

"Mami estuvo literalmente hablando contigo durante 20 minutos y luego tuvo el descaro de preguntar tu número, ¿cómo es que no te diste cuenta de esto?"

He also would definitely intervene if the flirting got out of hand. Like the guy trying to grab you or something. He will rough them up real quick or just kills them does what he has to do.

You would be crying because you didn't expect it and thought you were just being nice.

"Está bien bebé deja de llorar. He aint gonna bother you again."

Miles would definitely worry that these things wouldn't just happen with guys though, it would also be with crime starters and dangerous people. You were a mugger's perfect victim, nice, easy to manipulate & vulnerable. He had to protect you.

He would start to be more protective and make you stay at home or with him.

He would track your location and make you tell him where you were at all times.

If you ever tried to hide where you were or not tell him, he got angry. Like real angry.

"Fuck is wrong wichu Y/N! I told you to tell me where you be at, but you don't fucking listen." He would yell as he drove you away from the kickback.

I honestly don't think this dynamic would be too fun (lolz)

THE END

I honestly hate this and don't think this is my best writing but I need to post so I am sorry<3

[costelloschoice]

Mizu x Cowgirl! reader headcanons -Mizu x fem!reader -hi so I totally don't have a self insert that is a cowgirl and want to share my ideas about this LMAO -but seriously, I love this idea and idc if a cowboy wouldn't be here during this time period. We're here to have fun -comments and reblogs are appreciated :](pls I love readin comments and interacting with yall)

Sfw:

Okay so....wow

You are a completely different life form to Mizu

Your clothes? Crazy.

Your cowgirl hat will be the first thing she would notice, cause what type of that???

Leather pants with chaps on top

damn bro? who dressed you?

Your accent is also strange, why do you talk like that?

Ofc she will see you as a threat at first cause who are you and where did you even come from...plus that revolver in your side holster ain't helping

But once you proved yourself to her you don't mean harm, you're allowed to hang- you would score more brownie points with her

Mizu would def be intrigued by your backstory and why you're here in Japan

Late night talks by the fire

Even sneaking off to show her star gazing and small stories to share about the stars

Play guitar? Show off to her

Sing her songs and little bops you've learned or made on your own

Would die if you wrote one about her

You tame horses like it's nothing and its impressive to her

impressed more in you can ride without a saddle

Your lasso?

See wants to see you use it

has some thoughts of you tying up your enemies while fighting...

Once you guys develop a romantic relationship, she'll be excited but nervous

Excited cause you're great and accept her, but you guys are from two different cultures and lives

Will it work out?

Ofc it will...cause I say so

Will try on your cowgirl hat and do finger guns, even do impressions on you

Hasn't smiled this much in so long, it's like you casted a spell of some sort

Let her ride your horse with her

You have a fun side but also your serious side

Impressed when she sees you FINALLY use a sword like she taught your

speaking of that

she will force you to let her train you to sword fight instead of always relying on that damn revolver

She is impressed you can fight, but just not sword fight

Will hug and praise you in private about it later

"You should've seen yourself...You did so well, so beautiful wielding the sword,"

Will be willing to try your culture's food, even if she doesn't like it, she will appreciate it

When you get mad, and your accent gets thicker...sorry she can't keep up with what you're saying

But!!!

She loves to see you defend her, even if you're really outspoken

Specially with Taigen? Yeah, even though she can fight her own battles

Her favorite line? When you yelled at Akemi for crying too loud during the tea house situation

"Stop cryin' before I give you somethin' to cry about, girl.."

idk she loved see a spoiled girl being put in her place

but she knows you mean well

You were different but a good difference in her life <3

Nsfw:

going back to that damn lasso

wants you to tie her up, she's seen you do it and trusts you fully

would want to learn from you, for sexual and non-sexual reasons

LOVES to ride your strap

and yes

you make her follow the "hat rule"

hates it

but in the moment, she doesn't care too much, and will wear it

when you ride her? You wearin' it

now she sees why you love it

Your accent with dirty talk? Makes her weak in the knees

especially when your whisper in her ear

Your soft yet rough nature makes the sex life 10x better to her

You tell her something one night as a joke

"Save a horse, ride a cowgirl"

and she did

and loved it cause you made sure the ride was rough and wild

making love after star gazing? Yes pls

By the fire? Mhmm

Your soft voice with after care as well? Makes her so giddy and helps put her to sleep fast <3

[kuni-is-daddy]

Thinking about getting placed as Scaras assistant, he’s testing you at first asking questions small missions and battles so you can prove youself, but one night he’s asking you questions on why you want to work for him, the way he moves and speaks its like he’s teasing you

Your mind starts to wonder thoughts about your boss you never thought you have as he’s reading your mind, only teasing u more as he replies to your suggestive thoughts of him (I’m so wet for this man I CANT <33)

damm anon that makes me wanna act up IDK. i got a tent goin on over here if yk what i mean-

LET ANON COOK YALL, I THINK THEY ONTO SOMETHING--

INDUSTRY KAMI!

BOSS, SCARAMOUCHE X ASSISTANT/BODYGUARD READER

FLUFF+SMUT, SCARAMOUCHE BACKSTORY SPOILERS.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 1.2k WORDS. Smut part long af.

'Perhaps I feel like I owe my beloved Kunikuzushi something, Which is why i gave control of the gakaden company to him, Along with his own free will. I entrust Y/N with the safety and wellbeing of my son. As they are my most prestige warrior within inazuma and in all of teyvat' -The Raiden shogun, Ei.

AMAZING ART

Scara masterlist part 2!

The 5th round this evening, Your hands grew tired from holding your signature weapon. "Y-you are very skilled in the art of the sword my lord. My I ask where you were taught?" You said while trying to catch your breath in your tired state. "Taught? How amusing. as if someone could tell me what to do and how to fight? Y/n, i dont need anyones validation or blah blah-" The rest of your master's words went through one ear and out the other. Something about the shaken up and tired state he had you in gave you tremendous bliss, You we're well known to be one of the strongest warriors within teyvat, Even trained by the strongest human within the world, Il Capitano. Yet here you we're being bested by your own superior? Someone you we're ironically enlisted to by the Almighty god of thunder, Ei. To protect. It was pathetic how in every round he bested you, How as soon as you saw an opening to whisk away his katana from his grasp, he was always one step ahead, as if he was reading you like a book. The way he fought was unexpected. That is why you asked where his styles originated. "As expected, my master. A individual as great as you wouldn't need anyone else's guidance or leadership." You bowed your head as a sign of respect. Master, Scara liked that word. "Good Y/n. you know your place." He looked you up and down, observing your body as you stood up and wiped your forehead. He didn't mean to go so rough on you, But you always do ask to spar him after missions. So he did with no hesitation. "Go get yourself cleaned up or some shit and wait for me outside, Im going to get changed." He said as he left the room.

You we're reading "Flowers for Princess Fischl – Vol. I: End Time." while waiting for your superior. A young girl named amy gave it to you as a gift for helping her join the adventures guild. It was childish, but you ended up enjoying the book. Little did you know your boss was standing behind you as you waited for him at the lobby door. "The fuck is this?" He took the book from you "I- MY LORD-" You stuttered while trying to gather your thoughts. "Flowers for princess fish? Great.. So you spend your time reading fanfiction instead of being attentive as usual..." He sighed. "Hm..Now what if the enemy was inside y/n? Now im dead" your heart sunk at his sudden words. You we're well put together in a fine suit and tie similar to his. Along with a suitcase containing your signature weapon, Ready to defend your superior through anything. "I trust that you are more than capable to take care of yourself while i am not around, Master. Your strength is no match for anyone." You bowed and walked forward to the car, Holding the door open for him. "Is that so y/n?" He said while stepping into the vehicle. "Im sure your master can find other ways to show you his strength." The man whispered into your ear. You blushed and closed the door, Looking at him again while smilingly and running around to get into the car. Kuni smirked as your childish reaction. He sat next to you across the drivers seat.

The smell of his fresh cologne Filled your nose as if it was oxygen. He looked so professional and clean while flipping through your book, from the way his hair was perfectly straight to the beautiful way you could see his muscles Pearce through his suit. Even the way his tie was on is perfect, The way he would threaten to fire you immediately when you'd embarrass him in public during a mission- "Who is this, Amy person y/n?" 'Huh? How does he know about amy?' He read aloud "Dear y/n the loyal subjects of the Immernah-crick. Thank you for helping her majesty Princess fishkl. for- What the fuck is this?" You giggled under your breath at how he mispronounced the words. "Is Fuck? Your favorite word my lord?" He lightly blushed. "Thats not the Fucking- Thats not the question Y/n."

You two lightly teased and joked with eachother as the car finally pulled up. You held the door open while surveying the area and hesitantly apologized again "Im sorry lord kuni, i just got caught up while waiting for you. I wont read it again if you find Fantasy novels- Inconsiderate." "Read whatever the fuck you want, I could care less." He said as you held the door open to the penthouse lobby "and do me a favor y/n." "Yes my lord! Anything!" you said eagerly "...drop the 'my lord'. It sounds fucking weird when you say it. Keep the kuni shit." You smiled, Did this mean he was starting to trust you more? Was this all some test just to prove your worth.

SMUTT

You cheerfully followed 'kuni' into his penthouse. "My- I mean Kuni. Your place is amazing." You said while viewing his estate. All you we're instructed to do was to wait for him outside his bedroom door. Many thoughts swirled through your head, all about kuni. You just loved everything about him just from first glance, the way he'd carry himself, How independent he was, His outfit. You never worked for someone with that amount of prestige and overall leadership. Everyone was so obedient to him like a dog, even when he threatened to fire them. Threatened to fire you, The way that sent you chills was something you'd never forget. As if you could easily be replaced before he even knew your full name. You we're tapped out of your wet daze to be greeted by him. In a beautiful outfit(pov he's wearing his fatui outfit. "Hmm should i keep my hat on y/n or take it off?" He asked you. "M-my lo- I- i- mean kuni- you-" God you we're choking up on your words so hard.

"Ugh everytime I even talk to you about shit your always stuttering up y/n your acting as if this is the first time you've seen me wear my kimono." "W-well.. K-kuni.. Your chest..is out and i-" "Oh? so thats it." Kuni walked closer to you, you we're pinned against the wall" "You like what you see y/n..? Is that it?" "K-kuni please..Shouldnt we be leaving?" "I say when we fucking leave Y/n. There you go again making up your own mind. Is that any way to talk to your fucking superior?" Your body was burning up as your breath grew heavy. He whispered in your ear. "Whats wrong? I cant get closer to my pet...?"

"Say..Y/n.. Why do you work for me? Did my pathetic mother bribe you, The ever so righteous Y/N. who has trained with the strongest human in teyvat?" His beautiful violet eyes burned through yours. as if he was staring through your soul. Was this another test? You couldnt tell. Your breathing became more panicked. His body pressed against yours, the sweet smell of his perfume, His beautiful eye liner. You we're in a pure daze. The worst one you've had since you met him. "fucking say something y/n..or are my eyes putting you in another trance hm?" shit.. at this point he was reading your mind. Fuck it. "i.. I LOVE YOU KUNI. MORE THEN ANYTHING. ID PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE. I DONT CARE IF YOUR MOM WOULD'VE HIRED ME OR NOT..I... ALWAYS HAD FEELINGS FOR YOU!" You realized you let your heart out. When What" you've only known him for 3 weeks and you're going this fast. "...I-im..sorry..my lord. I'll just wait for you in the ca-" you we're cut off. "then prove it." 'huh?' "e-excuse me my lord?" "prove it. Prove how much you love your master~" A cord snapped in you. You kicked his bedroom door open with force, Even making him give an aroused look. you wanted this. You wanted him so bad, The way he fought you. The way he made you so happy, The way he made you so fucking horny and touch yourself after every night you'd make sure he was safe in his home. You unzipped his pants immediately and looked at his cock while licking your lips. He didn't stop you, only mocked you "fucking slut.

How long have you wanted my cock?" You didnt reply. Just the feeling of his big cock stuffing your mouth and making you gag had you on cloud 9. "f-fuck...Where did a slut like you learn how to suck a mans cock like this. Shit~ have you been passing yourself around?" "No..mph.. been savingf myselvf for you mahster~" You said with his dick still in your mouth. "Oh yeah? You saved yourself for daddy?" God that turned him on. He grabbed your hair, ran his fingers through it and forced your head down on his cock. "Just like that baby, You've been so patient already for me. I should reward you with my cum down your throat. how does that sound?" You shaked your head with vigor. Desperate for his seed. He pushed hard onto your head, Bucking his hips up and letting out a loud groan while he came down your throat. Fuck your mouth felt so warm he didnt want you to move. But you did and climbed ontop of scara, While stripping for him. "Mmm..Wanna put on a show for you Kuni~" god the way you'd say his name would always make him hard.

Especially the way he teased you in the car saying he'd show you his strength in other ways. You began grinding on his cock "F-fuck Kuni~ Your so big against me master..So big.. Your making me horny right now daddy~" "Yeah'? Making my little pet all turned on f' me? Want daddys help?" "Y-Yes kuni~ please help me." You swapped places, laying on the bed while kuni began taking his clothes off. his abs we're beautiful along with a nice scar along the side of them. He fetched through his cabinet for a bottle of lube. "Y-you have lube?" you said shocked. "Tsk. Yeah? You think i dry jerk off too you?" Just hearing that alone made you blush. He jerked off a little with it and began putting the tip inside. "oh shit kuni~" He looked so focused on making sure his cock got inside of you. watching how it would dissapear inside your warm wet hole. He moved slowly back and forth, Fucking you in a mating press. "K-kuni.." "Yes my love?" "C-can you go faster please. Wanna have you hit that spot." And that was all he needed to hear. He ruffled his hands through his hair and fucked you so hard. "K-KUNI AH~" you wrapped your legs around him "F-fuck baby dont wrap your legs round me like that- IM gonna CU-" "I dont care kuni~ please breed me. Breed me like the little pet i am. P-please kuni. Thats all I want, Wanna be yours forever."

[sukunasweetheart]

Headcanons for sukuna as a volleyball player - idk if i wanted this to be set during highschool or not so i guess it'll be kinda generic or all over the place haha,, dedicated to @luvkun4 my love, who likes haikyuu and sukuna so its a perfect combo for her

warnings; NSFW, throat fucking, rough and angry sex, degradation, femme reader, youre kinda his pocket pu$$y but also his sweet gf, minor angst but with happy end -- this wouldve been a good fic but i dont have the energy for a fully written fic nowadays, im alr working on a billion rn

edit; THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LENGTHYY sorry, i wanted to add in the drama

right.. idk from where i should unpack this

we all know... sukuna would be competitive as fuck.

i know for a fact that he hates losing so much

which is what makes him such a good player tbh, the balls not gonna touch the ground as long as hes around

he’s a wing spiker, and definitely the ace (cough, totally not inspired by this gorgeous fanart)

hes so mean and arrogant but is willing to demonstrate teamwork in order to win and so theres obvious respect between him and his teammates

uraume is the manager, tho its clear that they favour sukuna the most pff

sukunas such a powerful player, no one can beat him one on one and hes so sexy when hes playing seriously

volleyball sukuna and his fuckin horse cock, u bet u wanna get wrecked by his shii

problem is, i cant find a creative way of how yall first met 

idk, probably through mutual friends, out in a big group at a restaurant ?? maybe you hooked up with him afterwards and you both caught feelings for each other

yeah something along those lines

anyway ofc seggs after matches are a regular thing haha

its almost an expectation that you come to see his games now

here comes the smut smut smut

vb sukuna would totally drag you into the unisex bathrooms so you can “help him relax” right before the game starts...

nothing like cumming down your throat to get him all warmed up

and youre such a whore for him, you can never say no bc YOU DONT WANT TOOO <3

even tho you make a fuss about the icky floor pfft, he grunts and lays a bunch of toilet paper for u to kneel on, what a gentleman

his soft groans as he lodges his thick cock into your warm mouth, and then pushing your head down to go even deeper

the pleasures just too great, the thrilling mixture of being in a public toilet right before a big match, fucking your tight throat raw

and your teary eyes, fluttering your lashes up at him with a mouthful of dick, he could laugh from how adorable you look

after hes done spurting stringy thick ropes of his seed down your esophagus hes just: “thanks babe... you sucked the nerves right outta me.”

and you know its bullshit bc hes smirking in that sarcastic way, and its a fact that sukuna doesnt know what it feels to be nervous!!!

lucky for you, he treats you better than anyone else - he wipes your mouth and kisses you before parting ways with you

likes to give you another smirk once he finds you amongst the audience

its crazy how much energy he still has after games

on the rare occasions when his team loses... oh boy

100% takes his frustration out using sex

just thinking abt the simmering anger...practically throws you onto his bed

pins your body down and slamming into you with his whole body weight

ruins you so bad, bruises and bites literally everywhere

but like... you’re into that shit

butterflies in stomach whenever the other team ends up winning

“ugh...fuckin’ squeezing me like that... you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“maybe you like it when i lose a game. what a whore.”

“sukuna...sukuna, too bi-big..”

“oh? and you’d think this cunt would be pretty used to it by now,” he responds cockily. it turns you on when he uses such vulgar language.

spills so many loads into you, youre like a cream filled donut by the end

spanks you too, handprints on your ass and all - omg imagine the strength as a vb player

the aftercare is nice, usually he brings you to the bath immediately and check you out if you need ointment applied to your skin or vice versa

but it wouldnt be surprising if he got lazy with it on some days, especially after an exhausting game, having sex on top of that is gotta be tough

also he spends a lot of time training and practicing, which adds to your loneliness

sometimes you overthink it and feel like youre just being used, but instead of communicating it, you just act more sensitively around him

and vb sukuna sucks at picking up the small cues, so he just thinks youre being unreasonable

the two of you get into a pretty heated argument which ends with you storming off one time

theres a bit of silent treatment going on, but then afterwards you start talking with him “normally” again

theres an obvious distance growing between you and him, and your attitude is colder than it used to be. sukuna thinks its something thatll pass sooner or later

but then you text him, saying that you wont be able to come and see his game

thats not right. hes had a few fights with you before, but you’ve never skipped out on coming to watch him like this, ever.

but being a prideful tsundere he is, he just replies with a “do whatever you want” before chucking his phone off to the side (which he checks later again, to see if you said anything more after that. you didnt.)

on the day of the match, hes constantly checking the crowd if youre there

its not like *glance* he cares *glance* about you coming *glance* or anything *glance*

his mates raise eyebrows and tell him to focus properly and hes never looked scarier lmao

they won in the end, but the taste of victory isnt the same

the group wants to celebrate and go to some restaurant to eat but he skips out and goes home alone

and when he opens his door to an empty and dark living room, he cant shake off the feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach

totally doesnt google search “signs of an incoming breakup”

feels worse afterwards

eats a nice and nutritious meal he cooked for himself, but it tastes kinda like cardboard

i said previously that sukuna doesnt know what feeling nervous is, but now he does, hes terrified youre gonna pull the breakup card on him, he wont know how to deal with that

he has a feeling that if he doesnt do something about this now, he will lose his chance forever

sukuna calls you but you dont pick up

he finds his way to your front door and rings the bell, and you call out from the other side asking him what he wants from you

“why didnt you pick up any of my calls? i want to talk.”

he hates how whiny he sounds.

you crack open the door ever so slightly, so only one of your eyes are visible to him

“about what?”

“about... this. about us.”

“...you’ve been crying. let me in.”

he gently pushes open your door and you stand out of the way, letting him

...and he starts with an apology. about saying mean things to you during the argument, about acting like he doesnt care when he does (he cares so much abt you that it drives him mad), pretending not to notice how upset you were

you watch him sternly, but end up bursting into tears bc youre so relieved he came out and admitted to his faults, and that theres hope for this relationship

youre bawling as he pulls you into his arms, and you confess that not going to see him and treating him coldly was the hardest thing youve ever done in your life

sukunas so relieved you still feel deeply for him, and simultaneously upset bc youre upset

you reveal that youve been feeling neglected, feeling like he only liked you for your body, and you too, apologise for not communicating that and acting sensitively instead

hes appalled, calls you an idiot but then retracts that statement and denies ever having thought in that way

the two of you snuggle up so close together in your bed, communicating and chatting and catching up for hours while he occasionally eyes the mountain of used tear-filled tissues in your room, rather concerned

for a while, he doesnt initiate sexual activity unless you specifically want it bc he wants to prove he likes spending quality time with you just as much <3

and when sex does eventually happen, he makes it very romantic and meaningful, with proper aftercare, continuously whispering “i love you,” throughout

and he shall do anything to have you keep loving him back.

some general stuff with vb sukuna:

mad tall. i wont give an exact number but anywhere between 195 - 200cm tall :>

mad horny. hes like an animal

hes such a big eater,, i mean, i see sukuna as a big eater in any au but this one in particular bc hes an athlete haha

u probably make protein shakes for him and stuff, but hes not rly on a strict diet or anything, he just eats anything and everything

has a lotta fangirls >:( but he ignores them now, after he met you >:) but before, he probably played around a lot and hooked up with some >:( he never liked any of them to stick around, tho >:) except you >:)

goes on morning runs, at like 6am and gives u a kiss on the cheek beforehand

is so fucking touchy clingy, always needs you on his lap, hands under your skirt or shirt

the last guy who tried to hit on you got a nosebleed, getting hit with a volleyball (its so funny, he changed his aim mid-spike during a practice match)

haha he was sent to the bench for that one (everyone was chuckling behind their hands)

the headband was given to him by you, bc he once complained abt having to gel his hair every morning + gel doesnt keep his hair in shape when hes sweating excessively

thats all for today <3 thanks for reading

Masterlist

tagging; @yuujispinkhair @moonchild-artemisdaughter @skunaskitten