Sweating Bullets | John "soap" Mactavish

It's like Dean is pregnant with Cass' baby and they're trying to think of what to do because the baby would be a nephilim

talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?

Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)

Length: 7.8k

A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without

You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point. 

“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room. 

Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”

Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.  

“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care. 

Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…

“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”

“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.

“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”

Jake had the grace to look guilty for a  moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”

In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory. 

Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”

Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”

Had you said that?

It sounded like something you’d say.

But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.

It was a wonderful two minutes. 

Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.  

Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.  

“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.

You did stop fidgeting, though.

“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.

Was it hot in here?

It had to be hot in here.

Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.

You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.

(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit). 

On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.

You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”

He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder. 

He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin. 

Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again. 

“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”

“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.

“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper. 

“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”

“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right. 

“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing. 

“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch. 

You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid. 

“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”

“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”

You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar. 

Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?

That wasn’t true. 

Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh. 

Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness. 

Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even. 

This was fine, this was normal. 

This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs. 

He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.

“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice. 

Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest. 

“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”

He was interrupted, of course.

Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it. 

He froze. 

Shit. 

“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”

You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes. 

“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile. 

“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”

Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong? 

Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.

“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”

Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.

Fuck, he was going to ruin you.

“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him. 

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours. 

You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy. 

Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again. 

You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin. 

“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”

You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn’t know what you felt.    

“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin. 

“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”

Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good. 

With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again. 

“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”

“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed. 

“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration. 

He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again. 

“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”

Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched. 

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”

Well, fuck, when he put it like that…

“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you. 

“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him. 

He didn’t look away from you. 

His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again. 

“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue. 

He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.  

“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”

You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you. 

He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked. 

“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—

Jake pulled back. 

You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. 

“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing. 

You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded. 

“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself. 

“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”

“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.

“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”

Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you. 

No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”

You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it. 

“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded. 

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again. 

“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.

“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”

Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders. 

“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened. 

“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully. 

“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt. 

You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind. 

“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.

Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.  

“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were. 

“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.” 

“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you. 

“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”

He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?

What was anything, what did he need?

“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”

“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”

“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”

His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.  

“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you. 

God, and you hadn’t even had him yet. 

“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you. 

“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you. 

You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face. 

You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows 

He looked proud. 

He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away. 

“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”

You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.

More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours. 

Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him. 

You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.

It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them. 

In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better. 

“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.

Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head. 

“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”

“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”

You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you. 

Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel. 

And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.

“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”

When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath. 

Sweet man. 

You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground. 

“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.  

Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?

You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free. 

“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away. 

No wonder he walked around like he did. 

As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth. 

But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine. 

You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself. 

“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.

“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this. 

“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again. 

Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making. 

You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly. 

It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in. 

You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you. 

There it was. 

You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 

You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight. 

“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.

You felt like he could see straight through you.

That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you. 

Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air. 

The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him. 

You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.

Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”

You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”

He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core. 

“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”

“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you. 

It was a good thing he was holding you up. 

Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. 

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.

“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”

His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you. 

You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.  

“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”

He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it. 

Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa. 

Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you. 

You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts. 

Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.

“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”

You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked. 

When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much. 

“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”

“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch. 

“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?” 

“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”

“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”

“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”

You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”

“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”

He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe. 

Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down. 

You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs. 

You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed. 

You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up. 

//

tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger

𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

miles quaritch x oc navi

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐄𝐘𝐖𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑.

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐖𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇.

a navi mother willing to do whatever it takes and amount of will to save her baby from the sky demons who've taken her child. she will not rest until he is safe at home but on her journey, she encounters avatars that aren't from her tribe.

one avatar in particular who she has seen before.. the father of your child.

and so does he find her familiar..

"I'm with you, ma yawntu. i see you."

"let eywa guide you to me when you have chosen. be the person you want to be miles."

RATING : EXPLICIT

WARNINGS : ANGST | ENEMIES TO LOVERS | FLUFF | SMUT | SLOW BURN | ROMANCE | | PREGNANCY?| CANON VIOLENCE | DEATHS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE | CHILD NEGLECT | DEPRESSION |MENTIONS OF COLONIZATION | TORTURE

CHAPTER INDEX

PROLOGUE

1. MA'ITAN

2. RETURN OF A GHOST

3. SEYKXEL'S PATH

4. A MOTHER'S MISSION

5. ONCE UPON A DREAM

6. FIRST LESSON - BABY STEPS PART 1 | PART 2

7. THE THREAT WITHIN

8. LESSONS FROM A WARRIOR PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

9. ???

10. ???

11. ???

12. ???

＿＿＿ BONUS ＿＿＿

SEYKXEL KAY'S FIRST COMMUNION WITH EYWA PART 1 |

PART 2 | PART 3

???

???

＿＿＿SPECIAL CHAPTERS＿＿＿

HAPPY MAMA

＿＿＿WHAT IF?＿＿＿

???

???

TAGLIST

@skinmittensgoblin @eternallyvenus @winxschester @perseny @cleverzonkwombatsludge @reallysparklychaos @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @liyahsocorro @violet-19999 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

This is important

This won’t make your blog look ugly. How could you not reblog this? REBLOGGING THIS COULD SAVE A LIFE!!!

Sass (Din Djarin)

This one is for @1800-fight-me who said some stuff about Din to me and then said some other stuff about Din to me and then my brain wouldn’t let it go...

Word count: 1500+ Rating: mature, 18+ only Outline: “Mand'alor” Din Djarin x “You” (petite female reader, clumsy, “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”) Warnings: curse words and vulgar language; Din picking you up; two clothed spanks on the bottom; undressed Reader/clothed Din; one erection; Din’s roaming hands; Din touching you through your panties; one instance of Din grabbing your chin; mentions of blow jobs; mentions of P/V sex; mentions of bare-bottom spanking; mentions of sex in the throne room with possibility of getting caught; Din’s got a filthy mouth

You fumbled and dropped something for what felt like the millionth time that day, cursing under your breath. You stopped in the dusty road, shifting your bags around, trying to redistribute them so you could free your hand to pick up your parcel from where it lay in the dirt.

The air was hot and dry, and you wanted nothing more than to get back to the ship and take a shower, wash off the dust of the town. You didn’t mind accompanying your husband to his various diplomatic meetings and conferences, especially the ones on jewel-like tropical planets or at breathtaking palaces perched on mountain ridges. But this stop was different, a sudden detour on the way home... and from the hunch of Din’s shoulders as he landed the ship, and the way he suggested you go shopping in the street market while he held his “meeting” you could guess that it wasn’t on the official roster for his week. You hoped that he would at least come back to the ship in one piece.

You retrieved your parcel and tucked it under your arm, huffing in exasperation. You rounded the corner and finally saw the ship, gleaming in the hot sun. Your face broke into a smile as you saw that the ramp was down, meaning Din was probably inside getting ready to start the last leg of the journey home.

You hurried a bit, arms laden with bags and packages, and then disaster struck. You were just a meter away from the ship when your sandal caught the long hem of your dress, and you tripped. Parcels and their contents went scattering, although the worst of your fall was broken by your large cloth bag. You lay there for a moment, stunned, and then looked up to see Din walking down the ramp.

“Are you okay, cyar'ika? That looked embarrassing.” His voice held concern with a note of amusement. Din was used to your various scrapes and entanglements, and you thanked the stars every day that Mandalorians valued intelligence and grit far above poise and grace, even in their queen.

You huffed out a groan and pushed yourself off the ground, grasping one of Din’s large gloved hands for assistance. Din stooped to gather items as you brushed yourself off, striding back up the ramp to deposit your things inside the ship. The front of your dress was caked with dirt, and no amount of swatting it with your hands would do. You sighed and gave up on cleaning yourself. You picked up two oranges that had rolled a few feet, and then started up the ramp.

Din came down to meet you, and you stopped to let him look you over.

“Are you hurt, cyar'ika?” His voice was softer now, full of love and concern. Din held your face in his hands, tilting your chin up to have a look at you in the bright sun.

You smiled and swatted his hands away, laughing. “I’m fine! It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t stopped on this godforsaken planet, but someone decided they had business to attend to.”

Din tilted his helmet back a bit, that imposing stance doing nothing to intimidate you the way it had countless adversaries in his lifetime.

You put your hands on your hips and pushed your lower lip out at him. “Or maybe I wouldn’t have to do all this shopping if you had let me join you for your meeting.”

Din suddenly went still. “You know I can’t do that, cyar’ika. That meeting was dangerous.”

You decided to push him just a little. “Can’t have been too dangerous, if they sent you instead of m- oof!”

The words were barely past your lips when you felt your feet go out from under you and the world turned over. You found yourself hanging over Din’s shoulder as he turned to stride back up the ramp, his large gloved hand holding both your knees firmly so you wouldn’t fall.

“Hey!” You hated that your voice came out in a squeak. “Put me down!” You beat uselessly on his back plate with your fists, blood rushing down to your face as he carried you effortlessly.

Din snarled at you in Mando’a. “Udesii,” and his free hand came up to smack you on your bottom.

His voice was dark with just a hint of amusement. “Quiet. For being such a little thing, you cause an awful lot of trouble.” Another hard smack landed on your rear, and you felt your panties grow damp.

Din didn’t break stride as he whacked the control panel with the side of his fist to close the ramp behind him. He carried you into the cockpit and finally put you back on your feet, ignoring your indignation as he lifted off. When the ship was off-planet and set to autopilot, Din swiveled his chair to face you.

He pointed at you and growled an order. “Your dress is dirty, cyar’ika. Take it off.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the ladies you pick up in dusty landing lots.” You laughed and put your fists on your hips.

“Now. I won’t tell you again.” His words struck you behind your sternum, the excitement causing your heart to thud harder, your breath coming all in a rush.

You paused for a split second, and then hurriedly undid all of the fastenings of your dress, letting it fall from your shoulders to the floor of the cockpit. You stepped out of your shoes and swept the pile to one side with your foot. You stood in just your underthings and canted your hips to one side, raising an eyebrow at your husband.

“See anything you like?”

Din snarled from under his helmet and curled a finger at you. You obeyed and started walking slowly over to him.

Apparently it wasn’t fast enough, because Din leapt to his feet and grabbed your wrist, pulling you the last two steps to his pilot’s chair. You collapsed onto his lap, your landing softened somewhat by one strong arm around your waist. Din scooped one hand under your knees and turned you sideways on his lap, tucking you against him and tilting his helmet to rest against your temple.

“I don’t like your sass, woman.” The words spilled out of his modulator right into your ear, sending a chill down your neck. The feel of his thigh plates against the backs of your legs was exquisite. Din kept one hand firmly around your hip, while the other trailed up and down your arm, raising goosebumps.

You shuddered a breath in, feeling your panties grow wetter. But you knew the ins and outs of this game, and how delicious it would be to play.

“That’s too bad, Din. You’re kind of stuck with me. I’m your riduur after all.” You giggled.

“Quiet.” Din wrapped his fingers around your jaw, pursing your lips out slightly. He ran one large, gloved finger over your lips and you playfully snapped at it, trapping the leather tip between your teeth.

“And she bites, too?” Din tsked softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

You released his finger and smiled. “I don’t know… what are you going to do with me?”

“I have a few ideas.” Din hummed thoughtfully. “I think as soon as we get home I’m going to take you to the throne room, bend you over my knee and smack your bottom until it’s so tender you can’t sit down.”

You gasped and squirmed on his lap, feeling more chills run up and down your skin with anticipation. Din’s fingers dug into your hip to still your movements.

“And when you can’t take any more, I think I’ll make you kneel down and take my cock into that lovely, wet little mouth of yours.” You felt Din’s erection start to harden against your hip, and you wiggled closer to him. He groaned once, softly, and you smiled to yourself in satisfaction.

“And- and then what?” You whispered, aching to be touched, aching for any kind of release that you could get. Din brought his free hand to your breast and you moaned. You heard him chuckle at that, squeezing the heft of your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“And then I’ll make you sit on my lap.” You felt Din’s cock twitch against your hip and you longed to fulfill every dirty fantasy he was spilling into your ear.

“I’ll bury my cock deep inside you while you face the room, hold your legs open and rub your clit until you come around me.”

Din worked his fingers harder over your nipple and you whined.

“You like that idea, mesh’la? Spread wide on my lap where anyone could walk in and see us?”

You couldn’t answer, only grind your hip sideways against his erection. Din plunged two fingers down between your legs and rubbed you through your underwear. You keened a high sound and squirmed as hard as you could against his hand.

“Oh, I think you do like that idea. Looks like you’re done mouthing off now, hmm?”

You sighed and rolled your head back, and let Din talk to you all the way home.

--- Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist

JHFTM Main Masterlist

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc @astoryisaloveaffair @fan-of-encouragement @nolanell @deadhumourist

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER

A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥SYNOPSIS: as the years went by, bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo want's to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

CHAPTERS: 0—1—2

❥ WARNINGS: implied fem reader, aged-up!, Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 6.7K

CHAPTER 1: THE SIMPLETON; YOU.

"accept calls from strangers."

You are a hard-working citizen, you are straightforward, diligent, focused, and most of all. You don’t take anyone’s shit.

Since a young age, you harbored grand aspirations of collaborating with the renowned hero Dynamight. Even during your high school years, witnessing the fledgling hero proclaims his ambition to become the top hero to millions of viewers on live national television deeply resonated with you.

He was a hero you admired deeply, whether that was in combat or in any other position.

Driven by an intense desire to be in close proximity to the fiery and passionate hero, you applied yourself with unwavering diligence. Night after night, you immersed yourself in rigorous study, methodically reviewing each cue card until the ink was exhausted and the pencils were rendered brittle from the forceful strokes onto your notebook.

Before you knew it, you graduated college majoring in hero analysis with a minor in communications.

the first few years after college were hard, without any significant connections, you had little to no experience beforehand to get any major positions in well-affiliated agencies.

Pizza for breakfast and granola bars for dinner, staying up for days and sleeping fewer nights. Going to countless amounts of intervals, passing trial after trial.

yet denied, denied, denied.

you began to lose hope, you felt that all the hard work you did was for nothing. You were fearful of the eventual future set in place for you. A dead-end office job at some random corporate office that could barely pay the bills, "comfortable" housing, and an urge to die because you never lived up to your expectations.

On a rain-soaked day in Japan, a biting chill permeated the air as the relentless downpour battered your umbrella, the droplets cascading off its surface with effortless ease. As you made your way from yet another failed interview, the weight of repeated rejection hung heavily upon you.

This time, however, you didn't feel particularly upset about it. The hero's demands were simply unreasonable, and you had no intention of acquiescing to such outlandish requests. After all, the hero's accomplishments were hardly noteworthy and their reputation was far from impressive. Barely reaching the top 100 rated heroes in Japan, he wasn’t worth any second of your time.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged out into the bustling streets of Japan, surveying the sea of faces before you with a critical eye. Among the throngs of people passing by, you observed carefree children strolling hand in hand with their parents, and trendy teens sporting high-waisted shorts and fishnet stockings, flaunting their disregard for the curfew that surely awaited them.

The distinction between the two groups of people made you notice something, you either abide by the rules or defied them. So then what were you?

You were the simpleton of course, sadly...

Like so many others trudging along these rain-soaked streets, you found yourself caught up in the unrelenting hustle to secure a job that would never truly fulfill you. Your expression was weighed down by the burden of this unending search, with a heavy heart and a growl in your stomach. you absentmindedly made your way into a nearby ramen shop.

the chill of the rain subsides to the warm embrace of the restaurant. Bustling voices of citizens and the loud clanks of kitchenware. you were greeted by the workers and you bowed.

setting your things down at an absent table, you look over to the ordering tablet. clicking a couple of buttons, you ordered your meal. Before you could sulk in your seat, your phone buzzes.

Jolting in surprise, you pick up the phone to read the contact name:

UA WORKFORCE CORP.

Your eyes lit up with unbridled joy and a rush of adrenaline surged through your body. The reason for this sudden surge of excitement was none other than the prospect of being selected as a trainee with UA Corporations, whether it be through the prestigious school or one of the legendary hero agencies affiliated with it. It all began last year when you submitted your application, and the possibility of this dream finally becoming a reality now had you feeling electrified.

Around a couple of months, you've passed through multiple rounds of other people who have applied for the position. Interview after interview, test after test, you knew that if you got the job you'd be on the track that led you to your dream.

"hello!" you said excitedly.

"yes, hello, is this l/n y/n?" a woman says on the other end of the line. You quickly confirm your identity with the woman. "hello there, I'm here to give you acknowledgment of the results of the final round pick for the UA CORP. affiliates position." the woman's voice rang through your phone, heart beating fast...breath staggered your reply.

"y-yes?" you stuttered.

"Yes, l/n, I'm sorry to inform you--"

[CALL ENDED]

With a swift press of a button, you ended the call, tears streaming down your face as you lowered your head to the table. Your body was wracked with sobs, each tear that fell causing your breath to catch in your throat.

why are you not good enough?

As the weight of reality bore down on you, your tears flowed even harder, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow. Was all your hard work for so reason? Are your dreams non-attainable? Is this just not the past you're destined to take?

After a moment, you sat back up in your seat, heedless of the tears and makeup staining your white button-down shirt. With red-rimmed eyes, you reached for your phone and began to scroll through Google, determined to find some sort of solution to the crushing blow you had just been dealt.

'office jobs near me.'

biting your lip, you try and stop your lip from quivering. you felt as if you were destined for despair since you were a child.

Like so many others, you too idolized heroes when you were a child, running around your house with makeshift masks and capes that resembled the same heroes you watched on TV. Full of youthful hope and possessing a fairly decent quirk, you dreamed of one day joining the ranks of these legendary figures.

Fast forward a few years, and you found yourself in middle school. After a long day of classes, you trudged your way back home, collapsed onto your bed, and drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to take on whatever the next day had in store for you.

but the only thing is, you didn't wake up.

you didn't wake up for another three days to be exact. when you finally awoke in the hospital, your parent broke the news to you. You seemed to catch a very rare parasite, this parasite can leave the host sickly with fever, very drowsy, and worst of all...

quirkless.

The following week at school, you shared the news with your classmates: you were essentially quirkless now. But instead of receiving words of encouragement and hope, you found yourself labeled an outcast by everyone around you.

"the girl who lived, but at the cost of her quirk."

Years later, the news still shook you to your core, and you couldn't help but feel stunned. present day, you've noticed that you could still use your quirk from time to time. around 10 times a year, your quirk would come and go in little spurts. but as time grew long, you became accustomed to not using it for a long time, so you never did.

so now here you were, alone, quirkless, and a soon to be slave to the corporate world.

cheeks stained with mascara, eyes red, and head pounding, you look over to the ordering tray, sliding out the hot ramen ready to be consumed.

"at least this ramen can make me feel better," you mumbled to yourself. Taking the large bowl from the tray, you set it out on the table and began to dig in.

As you eat, you begin to scroll ok your phone looking for regular office jobs…

Manager at printing company? No.

Office associates needed at tech company? No.

Receptionist at steel company? No way.

Senior communications analyst? What?

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Deny, deny, deny!

This can’t be your reality right? How are you going to break this down to your parents?

Deep in thought, you didn’t even realize that someone slid in your booth. Tapping away on your phone, you open your messages.

Group chat: Mom & Dad

you: hanging in there! So close!

letting out a sigh, you open the camera app. Looking at the screen you see yourself, torn up from the floor up. Eyes a faint pink contrasting from the red they were a few moments beforehand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you quickly tap your screen to flip your camera.

Flipping your camera, you stare at the screen. A man appears on the other side, as he looks at the camera in embarrassment.

Eyes widening you gasp, “Excuse me, but there’s other seats around,” you try to sound as nice as possible, but why should you be nice if today hasn’t been so nice to you back?

The man was covered in black from head to toe, black hood on tight, as he looks at you. Black-shaded glasses and a matching face mask on him.

“Um, can I sit with you please?” He says.

Rolling your eyes, you become irritated, “no. now if you can please move–“

“Please, I can’t sit alone, people will notice me!” He whispers, body leaning in towards you, jolting backward, you frown in confusion.

“What?” You say, tone cold and filled with irritancy.

“Um…listen this is the only time I’ve got to myself, and I love this place! And if people see me alone then they’ll notice me, so can I just please sit with you?”

Blinking rapidly, you grew quiet.

Looking around, you see no one looking toward you or the mysterious man ahead of you. Looking back, you then sink into your seat. Grabbing your face with your hands, you soon let out a deep sigh.

“Sure, fuck it, go ahead, this day can’t possibly get any worse!” You laugh to yourself. This makes the man’s head tilt.

“May I ask why your day is bad?” He says. Removing your hands from your face you give him a deadpan look. Licking your lips you sit up from your chair and grab your utensils.

Stirring your noodles around you let out a dry chuckle, “Let’s just say things never go the way I want them to—and there’s also a random man in front of my face when I could really like being alone at the moment…the small things.”

You say, sarcasm drenched with every word you spoke. This makes the man laugh, “Sorry your day has been shit.”

Leaning into his seat, you crossed his arms. “Maybe I can make your day better? Go ahead, have at me,” the man says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, you confess.

“The only thing that can make me happy at the moment, is if you can somehow give me a job at UA Corp.”

You chuckle, the utter impossibility of what you just said made it humorous. “Really?” The man says. “Really,” you replied back.

“I think I can do that,” he says, his tone relaxed and suave—he sounds as if he can in fact…do that.

“As if,” you snort.

“You wanna make it a bet?” He says, his tone was playful and a tad bit flirtatious. “I can get you to work for the top pro-hero’s in the country, all I need to do is make the call.” He says as every word falls off his tongue with no effort.

This peaks your interests.

“You don’t say?” you reply back.

“Who do you want to work for sweetheart? Just give me any name.” He says.

“Okay…Dynamight, I—I want to become a secretary! That’s the position!” You say, your tone desperate and hopeful.

The man smirks behind his mask, “Okay.” Pulling out his phone, he hands it to you. “Give me your number, you’ll be getting a call soon.” He says, biting your lip you grab the phone and do as he says.

You're well aware of the dangers of blindly accepting what strangers say; it's like common sense 101. And yet, here you are, drawn towards a man who's covered in black from head to toe. It's not the smartest move, but there's just something about him that makes you want to place your faith in him. You can't quite put your finger on it - maybe it's the intensity of his gaze, or the air of mystery surrounding him - but you can't help but feel a strange attraction towards him. It's a risky move, but sometimes you just have to trust your gut, even if it defies all reason.

“Do you promise?” You spoke softly, this earns a chuckle out of the man, “Of course! You’re making a deal with a god—not a devil.”

As you gaze into the stranger's dark eyes, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There's something about him that doesn't sit right, and whatever god he may or may not represent, he's not exactly acting like one. But despite your reservations, you continue to chat with him, and as the conversation flows, you begin to let your guard down. Eventually, you find yourself sinking back into your seat, pouting slightly as you polish off the rest of your meal. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something about this mysterious man that's drawing you in, despite all the warning signs.

You're not quite sure how to process the choices you've made, given how impulsive they were. It's not exactly the wisest decision to act on a whim fueled by intense emotions, but you simply didn't give a damn. Life's been pretty rough lately, and if things are already this bad, then why not make them even worse? That seems to be your thought process, as you ride the waves of your tumultuous feelings, consequences be damned.

throwing your utensils into the empty bowl, you gather your things and shuffle out of the booth. Standing before the mysterious man, you frown. "are you going to eat anything?" you ask.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna eat somewhere else...you've made me have a taste for something else." Soon, the man jumps out of his seat and walks away, brushing past your shoulder with ease.

Astonished, you look back and watch the man leave out the restaurant in a hurry.

What just happened?

for the rest of the day, you carried yourself through your regular routine. eat, think, cry, repeat. As day turned to noon, and noon falls tonight...you grew anxious for a reply from the mysterious man you met earlier today. Heart pounding and blood running cold you sit in your apartment kitchen, your phone a couple of feet away from you on the kitchen counter. As you were sitting on the other side, the wooden chair creaked with every movement you made.

You didn't know what to think of the situation before you, looking around the apartment, the shadows grew as you fell deeper into the times of night. Looking at the clock, it read 10:39pm.

Letting out a sigh, you rise from your seat and grab your phone. you head into your bedroom, crashing onto your bed (that could be softer) you lay and stare at the ceiling.

"Is this my life now?" you questioned yourself.

You purse your lips and shut your eyes tight, hoping to drift off into slumber and escape the terrible day that's left you feeling like crap. Sleep seems like the perfect distraction - a chance to shut out the world and forget all the stress and negativity that's been weighing you down. With a deep breath, you try to clear your mind and let yourself sink into the warm embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

the sounds of your phone sound an alarm through your body, shooting up from your bed you scramble to your phone. breath staggered and heart pounding, you reach for your phone and read the contact number.

ANONONYMUS CALLER

eyeing the phone more, you read the time. 5:57am? It's way too early to be answering calls...but you knew this call could be important. Taking in a deep breath, you answer the phone.

"h-hello?" you say, you breathed hard onto the other end. Anticipating the voice on the other end of the phone. A moment has passed by, the phone still attached to your ear, you sit on your bed waiting for someone to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" you ask again, you hear nothing but static on the other end. Swallowing your spit, you curse and begin to end the call.

"l/n, isn't it?" a familiar voice rang out, eyes widening you press your ear back onto the phone. "yes! This is she!" you softly exclaimed.

"you've got the job, I'm sending you the location of where you need to be...meet me there at 8:30am sharp not a minute before, not a minute after. Do you understand me?" the voice rang cold, monotone, and raspy.

your heart was jumping out of your skeleton at this point, unable to refuse, you complied. "Okay! Thank you again, for helping me...whoever you are," you say.

"Don't mention it, you'll know who I am, and soon everything will fall into place," maybe you were hearing things, but you could hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

before you could reply, the phone disconnected from the call. you couldn't believe it. "I'm working for Dynamight?" you say aloud, in disbelief. A smile etched onto your face, but you soon wiped it off.

Standing from your bed, you began to pace. "let's not celebrate now y/n, there are still many factors that need to be noticed..."

factors which are:

where is this location?

this could be a trafficking scam

you could be dead in a couple of hours

but what if it was real?

The power of belief was astounding - it seemed that the mere possibility of something being real outweighed all other considerations tenfold. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepared to head to the location, eagerly zooming around your room to fix your hair and makeup. You even practiced your best customer service voice, running through lines and mentally rehearsing how you would handle different scenarios. All that mattered was making a good impression, and the prospect of the unknown made your heart race with anticipation.

"How can I help you Mr. Dynamight?" "Your meeting is scheduled at this time Mr. Dynamight" "Would you like any coffee Mr. Dynamight?" you in your sweetest voice possible. Giggling in excitement you reach for the bottom drawer of your dresser.

Pulling the drawer, you smile with excitement. "The time has come, you're finally getting what you deserve." Looking down at the clothes before you, you planned on wearing this outfit for the first day on the job.

You expected to find your outfit covered in cobwebs when you pulled it out of the drawer, but to your surprise, it was in impeccable condition. Not a single wrinkle marred the pristine fabric, and there wasn't a single stain to be found. You had ironed and steamed everything to perfection, determined to look your absolute best. Your outfit was the epitome of sophistication - a classic white button-down paired with sleek black work pants and matching heels. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you admired yourself in the mirror, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

throwing your clothes on, you read the clock, 7:51am. eyes widening, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before grabbing your things and rushing out the door.

flagging down a taxi, you hurriedly give the driver the location. your heart leaped from your chest once more when you read the location details on the screen.

DYNAMIGHT RIOT HERO AGENCY ©

this is seriously happening? you thought to yourself.

"you work there ma'am?" the taxi driver asks. a new rush of pride washes over you, "yes, I do...it's my first day." you say, a shy smile paints over your face. "congrats, I heard it's not so easy getting a job at places like that, my niece tried to work there but got denied after 2 years of interviews."

"wow," was the only word that could come out of your lips.

"how'd you get in? connections?" he pries. "um...you could say that, but I think I got here out of pure luck, you wouldn't believe it." You chuckle, the man smacks his lips at your reply, obviously upset at your success. Forming your mouth into an "oh," you sit back in your seat and look away from the man.

The silence between you and the man lingered awkwardly for what felt like an eternity, as the taxi sped on for the next 20 minutes. You were relieved to finally see the agency's headquarters looming up ahead, massive in size and bold in color. The building stood tall, almost like a skyscraper, with bright hues of red and orange radiating from its walls. Your eyes widened in amazement as you watched countless people streaming in and out of the entrance, going about their day-to-day business. As the taxi slowed to a stop, the driver tried to navigate his way toward the front of the building, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness at what lay ahead.

"thank you!" before the taxi could even stop, you jump out of the vehicle. Throwing your total amount for the ride into the car, you slam the door and rush towards the building. Clutching your briefcase tight, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Before stepping forward, you feel your phone vibrate. It's another text from the man you met yesterday.

ANONYMOUS:

walk into the building and head straight into the right elevator by the bathroom, when you get in go to the 21st floor.

when you get there, there will be a front desk. ask for red. tell them your name, and they'll know who you are.

a lady will lead you into a room, wait there until further notice.

"here goes nothing," putting the phone away you do as you were told and walk into the building. you were absolutely astonished by the size of the first floor, to the point where you became overwhelmed. businessmen and woman hustling to their destination, mascots dancing to the faint music, trying to stay on the beat but the sound of children screaming in amusement drown out the tempo. tour guides leading the way for curious visitors.

this place was a workplace war zone...

letting your heels carry you away, you head towards said elevators. you waited patiently in line to enter the elevator. looking at the elevators, you look at the vinyl art on it. It's a picture of Dynamight and his partner Red Riot, fists in the air and victorious smiles shining bright you read the quote on the elevator.

"work hard, grab victory by the throat, and win!"

very Dynamight coded, you'll say.

packing into the elevator like sardines, you notice there's an assistant there who presses the buttons. Do they seriously need a position like that here? "Floor 21 please!" you yell out. You notice the multiple workers give you an unreadable look, frowning you hang your head low in embarrassment.

after a good 3 minutes of waiting your turn, you finally reach your designated floor. squishing past the still rather large group of people, you take in a deep breath of fresh air. Holding your briefcase tight, you look back and thank the assistant.

"good luck, you'll need it," the assistant and everyone else in the elevator starts to burst into a fit of laughter. confused, you were about to ask why but the elevator quickly closed. adjusting your uniform, you bite the inside of your cheek.

"don't let them get to you y/n, this is your dream," you reassure yourself, stepping towards the front desk. you see a lady, her mid-forties at least. typing rapidly at her computer. "Excuse me, ma'am," you say softly, you watch as the lady's typing comes to a swift halt.

"yes?" she says, rather rudely, still looking at her computer.

blinking, a little bit held back from shock "Hi, I'm here to see Red? I-I'm l/n y/n." the lady soon lets out a chuckle, turning away from you, she opens up a drawer and pulls out a paper. pulling at the paper, she grabs a pen and writes your name down and hands you a name tag sticker.

As you examined the sticker more closely, you couldn't help but cringe at its childish design. Tiny caricatures of pro-heroes adorned the borders of the "Hi, my name is!" label, and you felt a pang of embarrassment as you peeled it off and quickly slapped it onto the left side of your chest, right over your heart. It was a small gesture, but it hurt your pride to have to wear something so unprofessional.

"Please walk into that room over there...and also, word of advice, you should start wearing all black," the lady smirks, taking her hands and running them down her body. showing you that she is in fact, wearing all black.

looking down at your white shirt, you face heats up from your embarrassment. "may I ask why?" you say. The lady continues to do her work, not even giving you a look of acknowledgement.

nodding, you give a polite bow and head into the waiting room. As you walk into the room, you're filled with shock. the room was quite large...but there was only one seat? Deadpan in the middle of the room, the metal chair sits unharmed. you laugh out of nervousness, the sight of the chair makes the embarrassment you felt merely seconds ago wash away.

walking to the seat, you sit and patiently wait. The sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing, at the white noise, fills your eardrums. you quietly tapped your fingertips against your briefcase to the imaginary beat in your head. looking around, all you see is the grey carpeting and white walls, and the tv straight ahead of you.

you waited for a good 30 minutes in silence, distracting yourself on your phone as you waited, and waited, and waited. You constantly kept checking your messages, hoping for another anonymous message. but was left with a dry phone.

letting out a sigh, you frown. "is this some joke?" looking around the room, you spot a security camera behind you in the corner of the room. it's blinking red light flashing into your eyes, turning around you ponder to yourself.

"This must be a joke, that's why everyone has been laughing at me this whole time. I should've never come here," defeated, you began to gather your things. As you stood up to head for the door, the lights soon cut off. you let out a yelp, hands extending out towards the chair, and you sit back down.

the tv you saw soon cuts on, a bright white screen shines and takes over the whole room.

"WELCOME L/N Y/N!" the screen says blankly, the text blinking on and off, if this was supposed to invoke excitement, it's doing the bare minimum. you stare at the screen and wait for anything else, but the screen soon goes black. another minute in the dark passes by as you sit in your seat absolutely dumbfounded.

the screen turns on again, this time there's faint music sounding from it. soon you see a random person on the screen, probably a paid actor. "hello there fellow newbie! Welcome to Dynamight Riot Hero's Headquarters! Today, I'll be with you along the ride as we both become secretaries!" the actress, obviously way too happy to be here inquiries.

after watching the 10-minute-long do's and don't's video, the screen blinks to white again. squinting your eyes at the right light, the black sans serif font shows on the screen again.

KEY REMINDERS:

DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE A SECRETARY!

BE A GOOD WORKER!

ALWAYS BE ON TIME!

AND MOST OF ALL: WORD HARD!!

soon after the screen, turns off. a couple of seconds do by and the room lights flash back on, covering your eyes so that you don't get flash-banged for the fifteenth time. eyes still covered, you hear a door open and footsteps walk towards you.

uncovering your eyes, you look towards the floor to adjust to the bright white lighting. "so sorry, just give me a second!" you nervously chuckle. "don't worry, take your time!" the voice says politely.

wait, that voice.

it's the man you saw yesterday. your hand soon uncovers your eyes and you look up. "it's you-" eyes shooting wide, your hand flings to your mouth.

Red Riot?

"ah, guilty as charged! Happy to see me and not some creep aren't ya? You really need to have a better guard, I could've just been anybody!" he laughs.

a frown soon comes towards your face, "so you were the guy at the ramen restaurant? Why the hell was you there?" you growl. The pro-hero frowns playfully at your attitude.

"tone, little miss. that isn't a way to talk to your new boss. you know I thought we let in a complete stranger, you look so different when your face isn't soaked with tears and runny mascara." he jabs at you with a mischievous grin.

"What? Boss? Dynamight's my boss!" you argue. Red Riot rolls his eyes at your words, "Last time I checked my name is out on that building and in that shitty little video you just watched. and you're gonna wish you worked for me and instead of him by the time this day goes by."

your frown never left your lips, "can we start now?" you say.

"Sure! right this way!" he says, walking away from you, you hurriedly grab your bags and walk alongside him. before you could reach the door. the hero turns and blocks your way from seeing the other side.

"Also, um...wear all black next time." he says, his eyes travel down your figure, and you bite your lips in embarrassment. "why?" you ask. "Because it is a thing we do here, we want everyone to be seen as equals to us, we are all people here at the end of the day, hence we all wear the same thing. Plus, it's because we say so and it looks cool." he chuckles to himself at his last words, turning around he walks away.

As you walked into the office setting, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock and disbelief. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the people around you were robots going about their tasks with mechanical precision. Everyone wore the same drab black outfits, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of strange joke.

The more you walked, you could feel the eyes of the other employees snapping toward you, their stifled chuckles and whispers following you with every step. It was as if they were all in on some kind of inside joke, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this strange, black-button-down world.

As Red Riot led you around the office, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. Here you were, walking alongside one of the most legendary heroes of all time. It was hard to believe that this was actually happening - that you were standing in the same room as Red Riot himself. Despite your nerves, you couldn't stop smiling as you walked, eagerly listening to every word that he had to say. It was as if you were soaking up every moment of this incredible experience, committing it all to memory so that you could remember it forever. As you continued to explore the office, you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.

"And here's our final stop! The boss's office, the one and only Dynamight's quarters" he says. "you'll be in and out of here often, so get ready for that," he chuckles. you quickly nod at his words, "before I let you in this room, do you have any questions?" he asks.

you shake your head no, licking your lips you look forward at the doors. The golden plate shined brightly as it read his name:

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT: かつき ばくご

"Alright then!" soon, the hero bangs on the door. "see you around, fresh meat! by the way, cute sticker" he laughs, walking away from you. You were left standing in shock, did he just leave you here all alone?

"Come in," you hear a voice say. eyes snapping towards the door. You let out a shaky breath. Grabbing the door handle you slowly twist. "don't be a pussy y/n, you wanted this!" you whisper to yourself. Pushing the door open, words couldn't express the emotions you felt at this moment. Looking at your one and only inspiration in front of you, in all his glory.

Dynamight!

The sun was rising outside, casting a golden light over the room and illuminating the blond hair of the number one hero. As he looked into your eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way that his amber irises seemed to glow in the light. It was as if he was lit from within, radiating power and confidence. You took a quick glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt and matching sweatpants. It wasn't exactly business casual, but who were you to judge? This man was the number one hero, after all. He could walk in wearing a clown suit and you wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"You're the new hire? Right?" he says, his voice deep and captivating, way calmer than what you've seen on tv as it is early in the morning. You nod your head, the hero guides his hand towards the open seat in front of his desk, you follow and sit in the comfortable leather chair.

"Yes, my name is L/n Y/n!" you spoke softly, "I know." He spits back, you blame it on the early mornings. "Here are some ground rules we need to set in place, firstly..."

As he continued to speak, you found yourself hanging on his every word, completely swept up in his presence. It was almost surreal to be sitting across from the pro-hero, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You quickly pinched your thigh, just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

As you looked at Dynamight, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Seeing him in person was a completely different experience altogether - and you couldn't help but think that he was even more attractive up close. Maybe it was the fact that he was being so soft-spoken with you at the moment. How many people had actually seen him like this before? You couldn't help but wonder if this was a rare occurrence, and you silently thanked the heavens and the stars above that you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it.

The way his muscles flex as he holds your résumé–

Wait, how did he get your résumé?

“Excuse me?” You chime in, the pro-hero hangs his head low for a moment. Lifting his head up, he lets out a sigh, “I don’t like to be interrupted…l/n” he says. “I’m sorry I just have a question,” you state.

“Shoot,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his tone.

“How exactly did you get my résumé?” You asked, “What? Did you think we weren’t going to do a background check on you? You could be some psychotic fan for all I fuckin’ know,” he says, the morning rasp in his tone sends you ablaze as heat rises to your face.

“Oh! Right, well I’m not so,” you awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah I know, you’ve gotta…pretty good lookin’ résumé here,” the hero flips through a couple of pages, confirming his words.

You couldn’t believe it, the Dynamight called you qualified for the job! “Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that–“

“Okay listen, l/n, it’s early in the morning, and me and my partner just came back abroad from a goddamn mission. So imagine how I feel sitting here at this desk talkin’ to you and filling out these papers instead of in my bed sound a fuckin’ sleep. I’m gonna need you to tone it down alright?” He says, his tone raises as he grows irritated at your chipper attitude.

Blinking you bow in your seat, “I’m sorry Mr. Dynamight!” You spoke softly. “Don’t call me that, please just…don’t.” The hero rises from his seat and walks towards the door, you quickly stand up and follow suit.

“What should I call you then?” You spoke, his back facing towards you, the man let out a deep sigh, his palm cradling his neck. Rubbing the sensitive spot as he quietly hisses in pain.

“Just call me Dynamight, I don’t need people to go around calling you a lost puppy looking for their owner with the damn honorifics,” he says.

A brief moment of silence enveloped the large office, as the sound of the ticking clock grew increasingly louder with each passing second. Suddenly, Dynamight broke the stillness with a deep, audible sigh, turning to face you with a look of slight exasperation on his face. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about. And it seems like you're not making it any easier.

“When you came up here to this room, I hope you noticed why everyone was laughing at you. I want you to take what you went through into deep analysis…l/n.” He says, his tone sharp and crude as his eyes bore into your being.

“Why’d you sit in that waiting room with only one fuckin’ chair? Eh?” He says, a hint of humor in his tone. Your frown at him, looking down you try to really think back as to what happened.

“I’m sorry, Dynamight—I’m not sure.” You spoke, this makes the hero frown. “The reason why—is because every Secretary that has worked for me has quit.”

oh.

Swallowing your spit, you nod understanding the real reasoning behind the dirty looks and laughs. “Every single secretary that has been under me quits in no less than three months has quit, you wanna know why? Because of me.” He says as a sinister smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s proud of it.

“Well…how do you know that I’m not different?” You mumbled. The hero lets out a chuckle, because—I got a feeling you won’t last a month. You can prance around here with your happy attitude and white button-down, but I and you both know that you’re supposed to wear black.”

Why the hell does wearing black matter so much here?!

“So you’ve already defied me once, you get three strikes, no if, and's, or but's about it. And we both know what happens when you get to strike three,” he says smugly. “Don’t we?” He asks.

“Yes…Dynamight, we do.”

You couldn't deny the fact that you were a little bit scared about what the future held for you here. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked through the office. You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, even if it meant dealing with a difficult boss or two. After all, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way, as long as it meant being able to take this incredible opportunity.

“Good,” he says, his smile drops and he soon opens the door, letting it slam onto the wall. This makes you jump, you quickly gather your things and foll

behind.

You watch as all the employees ride from their seats and greet the hero. But he doesn’t give as much as a mumble back in reply.

“You’re going to be following me around for the day, can you do that task?” He asks, you nod and speak, “Yes, Dynamight I can.”

You were happy to be alongside the hero, he was your inspiration, your happiness, your sadness, but little did you know from now on.

You’d hate his guts.

HEY GUYS! Honestly did not expect for this to blow up, thanks so much for the kind words! ALREADY CLOSE TO 600 FOLLOWERS? It’s literally been two days you guys are crazy!! I wanted to make sure that I got this done by today, even though this literally took me forever to complete.

I have so much on the way, trying out a different format for my theme. Hope you guys take notice in it. Till then!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥ : @skeletonblush @smolbeanzzz @gold24fish @stablecreator93 @itgetzweird08 @xo-evangeline @akqsa-xxi @gaby-11 @suchagoodgirlxoxo @r-ans @hunny-hotline @superkittywonderland @jolynegf @sad0nion @nar00 @gingerbread-ginza @noxva08 @xaslieex

More than partners - The Mandalorian x reader

Chapter 10 of More than Partners

Daraasum

Summary: You and Din finally admitted your feelings for each other, and you show the Mandalorian how much you love him.

Warnings: Smut. Explicit. Nsfw.

AN: This is the last chapter of More than partners. I loved writing this story and I was anxious to write that last chapter! This story will be continued after the season 2 of the Mandalorian comes out, tell me if you want to be tagged when it comes out! I’d love to know if you liked this last chapter! Feedback is always welcome! Thank you to everyone! And thank you to my Mandalorian expert-who’ll recognize himself- for the last word Daraasum that means forever. (If you have some time, go check my brand new poetry account where I really want to put thoughts and quotes I wrote that give me meaning : lf-quotes it would be wonderful if you check it! Thank you!

———

<Chapter 9 - Chapter 11>

———

On the way back to Sorgan’s village, you were walking beside the Mandalorian, your cheeks flushed and a huge smile on your lips.

Din Djarin had feelings for you. It was real. You weren’t only the Child’s babysitter or just a play he could use sometimes, it was something more...

You needed to admit you were frightened to give in to your feelings and love the Mandalorian but, you knew without him, your life would have no meaning. He gave you purpose, and you offered him, love.

“Y/N, are you alright?”Mando questioned seeing you frowning. “Yes! Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

The Mandalorian’s gaze was still on you, and you felt your cheeks getting red. You turned your head trying to hide your embarrassment. Feeling a soft fabric against your right hand, you looked up. Mando was caressing your hand with his gloved fingers, his eyes still on you. His touch was rough, but at the same time soft. He was trying to do his best despite his sudden shyness. Mando refused to have a partner in his life. Until you, and he was terrified to lose something he never thought he would be worthy of. For so long, he thought it was forbidden, so he locked his heart and hid behind his heavy helmet, praying nobody would see through his facade. But you saw him long ago. You were the only one looking at him with stars in your eyes.

Mando’s hand suddenly found yours and squeezed it. He knew how scared you must have been. Love was new for both of you, and unfortunately, it didn’t come with a manual.

“Come on, we need to reach the barn before night.”The Mandalorian whispered, holding your hand with a firm grip.

It was pleasant to walk with such proximity with Din, feeling sometimes him breathing even though he had his helmet on, or sensing him shivering with the cold of the night. Everybody would have believed it was only small things, but for you, it was more. The Mandalorian showed you another side of him. He showed you the real Din Djarin, the one who cared, and chose to keep and protect the Child no matter the cost.

Most people would have been bothered by the silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. No words were needed for now. Only hands holding, and the fear of loving.

When you reached the barn which was your supposed bedroom with Mando and the Child, you noticed Omega waiting at the entrance. Immediately, without thinking, you and the Mandalorian let go of each other’s hand. As if it was a crime to hold hands with someone you love. Though, Omega stared at you wide-eyed, looking between you and the bounty hunter in wonder.

“You were waiting for us?”Mando questioned, breaking the awkward silence.

With a bleached face, Omega looked up and tried to articulate something.

“Humm... I-I Your dinners are served, I put it on the table.”She murmured, not daring to glance at the Mandalorian.

“And the-”

“The Child is playing with my daughter. Don’t worry, someone is looking after them.”

Mando nodded before thanking her.

“I am heading inside, Mando. I am very tired.”You muttered, caressing his clothed shoulder in front of the astonished gaze of Omega.

The bounty hunter acquiesced and you swore you heard him hold back his breath. With a satisfied smile, you wished Omega a wonderful night before entering the barn.

You should have been jealous of Omega, but for the first time, you were not. You were a Jedi with a force-sensitive Child, and Mando had feelings for you. You couldn’t hope for more.

Exhaling, you sat down on the edge of your bed in the barn. Two plates were waiting for you and the Mandalorian on the small table. You smiled to yourself when you noticed how your plate looked so different from Mando’s. Omega had done her best with Mando’s while yours was just not aesthetic at all. At this thought, you laughed, it was so childish of her.

“Why are you laughing?”Mando asked, his head tilted in wonder.

“It’s nothing.”

The bounty hunter imitated you, sitting on the edge of the bed, the helmet’s visor on you. You stared at each other for some minutes, as if you were both waiting for something.

“Din.”You broke the silence.

“Y/N.”

You grinned.

“You weren't lying about what you told me in the woods before, were you?”

You heard the Mandalorian giggled.

“Did I seem like lying about such a thing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”You whispered, placing one of your locks of hair behind your ear.

To your surprise, Mando stood up, pulled the curtains, and closed the light.

“Mando?”You questioned, an ounce of worry betraying your voice.

“I am here, Y/N.”

You felt his ungloved hand on yours, while his other hand was tracing the skin of your arm.

“Din?”

“Tell me if you want to stop.”He muttered with his modulated voice.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You replied, focusing on his slow touch, and your body trembling before his fingers.

Din’s fingers traveled down your arm, circling the skin with an atrocious softness, and when you felt his fingers on your hand, you closed your eyes, mesmerized by his hypnotic touch.

And then, you heard something unexpected. The sound of a helmet removed.

“Din. You can’t.”You whispered, suddenly placing your hands in front of your eyes.

“I can, and I will.”He answered, with ​his​ voice, not his mechanical one.

“But... but what about your Creed? What about the Mandalorian? You can’t show me your face.”

“I’ll always remain a Mandalorian. It is who I am. But I am also more than just a Mandalorian. I am still a man. You are the one who made me remember what it is to be human.”He murmured, his voice trembling as if these words had been hanging in his mouth for months. ”And the light is closed, you won’t be able to see my entire face.”

“But Din. I can still see your forehead, your hair, I can still perceive your eyes and your lips.”

“Good. I don’t want you to forget my face.”

You smiled, and felt his fingers on your lips, tracing it slowly, while you could catch a glimpse of his eyes. Feeling a rush of confidence, you ran a hand through his brown hair, bringing his face closer to yours. You could decipher the form of his eyes even if the light was closed and the night was falling. You felt Din’s face getting closer to yours. Fear and adrenaline rushed through your body, but you leaned on nonetheless. When you sensed his breathing on your nose, you smiled. Omera could never have that. And then, the bounty hunter’s lips were on yours, his hands found your hips, and he started to kiss you deeper, enjoying the taste of your lips.

Your tongues were entangled with each other, each one fighting for dominance over the one. You felt the Mandalorian smiling while kissing you, and it made you happy. It wasn’t a dream and Mando wasn’t faking it.

His hands traveled down your shirt, and then on your bra, unclipping it, and still caressing the skin. You tried to undress him, but with the beskar of his armor, it wasn’t an easy task. The Mandalorian laughed as you struggled to understand how to remove it. He waited a bit, and when he noticed you losing your patience, he dropped his beskar on the floor, and removed his shirt, revealing his warm skin.

“That’s way better.”You breathed.

Taking advantage of the fact he wasn’t expecting you to surprise him, you pinned him on your bed and climbed on him, and straddled him roughly. He laughed, and you began to kiss his neck, licking and sucking the skin at times before leaving a trail of kisses on his torso and his lower stomach. The Mandalorian let out a breathless moan that made you smile. Unexpectedly, Din pinned you on the bed and straddled you this time.

“Din! That’s not funny!”

To hush you, he kissed your lips, and lifted your shirt over your head, removing your bra at the same time. Your chest was bare and your hair stood on end with the cold of the night. You felt a warm finger circling one of your tits while another hand was stroking your other breast softly.

“Is this alright?”Din muttered. “Yes.”

The Mandalorian didn’t wait any further to suck on your breasts, being as gentle as he could to make you feel pleasured and cared for. You let out a moan, and the bounty hunter slowly began to kiss your stomach, and then your lower stomach, before reaching your trousers.

Once they were removed, Din fondled your panties with a hand, still straddling you. The feeling made you roll your hips, and you swore you could feel him becoming harder. You could feel the hard bulge between your legs, making you wetter. The Mandalorian noticed the effect his bulge had on you, and began to brush himself against your panties while caressing your hips. It felt so pleasant, you couldn’t help but moan, letting him know how much you wanted him.

“Din. I want you, please.”You commanded in an authoritative tone that made him smirk in anticipation.

“I didn’t know the Jedi were known to be so impatient.”He said, trying to remove his trousers and boxers as fast as possible.

When he was naked, he sat on the bed and caressed your thigh. “You are so beautiful, Y/N. I can’t bear you with another man.”

You felt your heart beating faster, and you kissed Din. He slowly removed your panties and made his way down your stomach, his breath teasing your inner thighs.

“Din, please.”You asked.

He began to fondle your pussy, driving you crazy with the wait before taking a few licks, making you moan louder than expected. The Mandalorian wanted you to feel good, he wanted to show you how much he cared about you. He licked your wetness, and then sucked on your clit, making you whimper at the pleasurable feeling. Rolling your hips, you tried to push his head deeper in you with your hands through his hair.

The Mandalorian looked up and kissed your lips, making you taste yourself on his lips. You fondled your cock with your hand, trying to make him understand you want to make him feel pleasured too, but he wouldn’t let you.

“It’s not about my pleasure tonight, Y/N, it’s about us. Us only.”

You nodded obediently, while he was positioning himself on top of you. You sensed his tip at your entrance. You desperately wanted to roll your hips to feel him against you, and yet, you didn’t yield into temptation.

“Din... Are you sure about this?”You questioned, hoping he wouldn’t regret what he was about to do.

“I have never been so sure of anything in my life, cyar'ika.”

You smiled, and slowly felt him pushing in. Din forced a bit while kissing you, and then, you sensed him pushing into you further. You whined at the sudden sensation, while he began to thrust into you slowly at first, and then faster. He moaned between your lips, and went deeper, hitting a certain spot inside you, making you cry out of pleasure.

“That’s it, Y/N. That’s it.” He said with labored breathing while the sound of skin slapping filled the barn.

Slowly, his thrusts began to be more erratic while you were almost reaching your orgasm.

“Din.”You whimpered.

”Come for me, cyar’ika.”

And you did. You moaned while the Mandalorian was still thrusting inside of you, and then with a guttural grunt, he came too, inside you. Going down, Din laid down next to you, his eyes staring at you.

“What?”You questioned, feeling his lingering gaze on your face.

“You are beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggled, and he stroked your hair, while you studied his face.

You stared at the man you loved deeply, the one for whom you would have sacrificed yourself multiple times, the one for whom you would have given all.

“I love you, Din.”You whispered, anxiety in your voice.

The bounty hunter smiled and caressed your face with his fingers.

“I love you too, cyar’ika. More than I wanted to admit.”

You smirked and asked, still worried about the future. Your future together.

“What now, Din?”

“Now, we focus on the present. We’ll find a safe place for the Child and us to be together.”

“Together? I am more than the Child’s babysitter now, and we are more than partners, right?”You tried to reassure yourself.

“Of course, cyar’ika. We’re more than partners. Partners don’t make love in a barn in the middle of nowhere with a Child.”

You laughed together, and intertwined your fingers with his.

“We should really go look for the Child. He needs to eat.”Din stated, worried about his little youngling.

You nodded and kissed him again on the lips.

“Din?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“What does “cyar’ika” means?”You asked, frowning.

You saw him paused and hesitated.

“It means my beloved, my darling.”

“Really?”You questioned, a small smile appearing on your lips.

The Mandalorian acquiesced, and you got closer to him to kiss him deeply.

“I’ll be your cyar’ika as long as you want, Din.”

“Darasuum.” Forever

*****

⬇️ Chapter 11 ⬇️

Obsessed With The Mandalorian

More than Partners-The Mandalorian x reader

My Way Chapter 11 of More Than Partners Summary: You and the Mandalorian are looking for Ahsoka Tano and your past is catching up with you.

@lol-who-am-i @kiaralein @kryttlebee @jedi-dreea @katialvi @hoodedbirdie @heaven77 @eyeliveinabook @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @mitamixer @fleurdemiel145 @pinkninja190 @esoltis280

Keep Going

Din Djarin x Reader (AFAB reader, no gendered terms used, just body parts)

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: The Mandalorian gets hurt while trying to capture a bounty. He comes back to the Razor Crest and you patch him up, making him feel better in more ways than one.

Can be found on ao3 here

A/N: I’m thinking this takes place before season 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Stop moving.” You tell Mando.

“It fucking hurts, Y/n.” He hisses as you clean the front of his wounded shoulder.

He wasn’t usually one to complain. Not like this, anyways. He’d just bite the bullet and suffer through the pain. But you could tell he was really hurting when he was verbal about it.

“I know. I’m sorry. Just let me take care of you.” You sigh, finishing cleaning his wound with alcohol before applying bacta spray.

He sighed with relief as the cool bacta met his skin, helping to numb the pain a little. You applied a gauze pad and taped it to him, standing back and looking at your work.

He was sat on the edge of his bed compartment, only in his helmet and pants at the moment. When he’d gotten back with his bounty, he was groaning as he put the criminal in carbonite.

You came down from the cockpit to see what was going on and saw how banged up he was. You helped remove his armor and boots and then turned away so he could quickly remove his helmet and shirt, turning back only when he told you it was okay.

You’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian roughly three weeks. He hired you as a maid of sorts. Doing all the menial tasks that were below his pay grade. Cleaning his weapons, armor, and ship. Keeping food stocked. Doing mechanical maintenance on the ship when needed, but he always liked to help with that part.

You put the med kit away and then turn back to him. You stare at his chest for a moment too long, then lift your eyes back up to his visor.

He was breathing hard, hands on his thighs, occasionally making a fist when a wave of pain washed over him. The bacta was fast. Just not that fast.

You step closer to him, now able to smell his woodsy scent. “Anything else I can do to help?”

There had been sexual tension between you and the Mandalorian from day one. That, you knew for sure. When he first interviewed you, to make sure you were the right person to hire, his handshakes lingered. He thought hard before each response to you. You’re pretty sure his helmet was tilted down just slightly towards your chest several times while he was questioning you.

“You’ve done plenty. Thank you.” Mando nods.

“A massage maybe?” You suggest quickly before he gets up.

He sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve had a massage. I would be grateful.”

“Alright, lay down on your stomach.” You smile at him and he does what you say, moving (slowly and carefully so he doesn’t hurt his shoulder worse) to lay down.

You admired his ass for a moment as he did so before climbing up into the compartment and straddling the back of his hips.

He lets out a long sigh as you do this, and you’re pretty sure he’s been touch-starved most of his life. In fact, based on what he’s told you about himself, you know it.

You start with his shoulders, careful not to press down on his injured one too much. You dig your thumbs in gently, repeatedly pressing them forward up the backs of his shoulders. He’s still breathing hard.

Your hands move down, gradually reaching his low back and moving back up.

He groans when you touch a particularly sensitive spot on his mid-back.

“Sorry. I can try and loosen it up. Or I’ll leave it alone if you want.” You offer.

“Please keep going.” He breathes.

You do as he asks, rubbing the spot in gentle circles to try and relax the muscle there.

You decide to dig a little deeper and you lean down, pressing your elbow into his back.

“Fuck.” He gasps.

“Shit, sorry.” You’re sure you’ve hurt him.

“Keep. Going.” He orders with a soft whine and you lean down once more.

You put your elbow against his back, pushing down and circling it. Mando’s breathing picks up, not harder, but faster. You watch as he fists his hands in the blankets by his head and it makes heat pool between your legs.

Once you feel the spot is relatively loosened up, you go back to using both hands to massage his back up and down. He lets out a shaky sigh.

“Don’t move.” He says quietly. Then he quickly turns over underneath you and-

Oh.

Oh.

Mando is hard as a rock, pressed against your heat.

You gulp. “Are we doing this?”

He nods up at you, hands resting on your thighs for a moment before slowly moving them up over your hips.

You bite your lip and grind down against him, moaning softly. He lets out a low sound, gripping your hips. You rock them back and forth against his crotch, wishing there was less clothing on you both.

You pull your shirt and bra off and his hands come up to cup your breasts. He squeezes them lightly, kneading them and playing with them, making your eyes flutter shut.

His hands move down after a minute, unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. One of his hands goes down into your panties, quickly finding your clit and teasing it with his fingertip.

“Fuck, Mando.” You breathe out.

“My name is Din.” He says sweetly as he pushes a finger into your wetness.

“Din…” you moan, opening your eyes again, looking down at him.

“You look so good like this. Feel so good.” He groans, thrusting his thick finger in and out of you slowly. “So fucking wet for me.”

You nod frantically, grinding down against his hand. “All f- for you.” You whine.

“I know, sweetheart.” He hums and pushes a second digit into you.

You gasp and brace yourself, hands on his chest. If he keeps going like this, you’re going to cum on his fingers.

He starts thrusting them faster, making them dip deep inside of you each time. You dig your nails into his skin, “Oh, Maker, yes.”

Din growls up at you, his hips bucking once to remind you how aroused he was. He continues fucking you with his fingers, getting you closer.

“Gonna- I’m gonna cum.” You breathe out, jaw dropping.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on, you can do it.” He coos, encouraging you.

You squeeze around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, cumming hard and whining his name.

“Fuuuck.” He sighs, working you through your euphoric high.

After a few moments, his fingers slow down and eventually stop, pulling out of you.

His free hand lifts his helmet just enough for you to see his chin, then his fingers covered in your slick come up to his mouth. He sucks on them for a minute, moaning around them and rolling his hips against yours.

“Maker.” You gulp. He has fairly groomed facial hair. Not too much, not too little. You wondered if he’d ever take the helmet all the way off for you. But for now, you were satisfied with this.

He pulls his fingers away and lowers his helmet once more. “Knew you’d taste good.”

You bite your lip and smile softly.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, sweetheart.” He rubs your cloth covered thighs.

You nod and get up for a moment, quickly getting naked. You watch him as he pulls out his cock and strokes it a few times. You almost gasp at the sight of it. It’s a beautiful cock, you think.

Din pats his hips at you, “Come sit.” He hums.

You gulp and nod, climbing back on top of him. You hover for a moment as he lines up against your entrance. Then you sink down onto his hardness.

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a broken moan, lasting until you were fully seated on him.

“You’re so tight.” He’s panting, gripping your thighs as he watches you.

This was probably the most perfectly full you’ve ever felt. No other person or even toy could compare to how this felt right now. He was throbbing inside you as you lifted your hips and then pushed down once more.

His short nails managed to dig into your thighs as you did this, leaving little crescent moon shapes. You bit back a moan, starting a medium pace of thrusting your hips up and down.

He held onto you like you were going to float away if he didn’t. His head was tilted back right now and you could see his beautiful Adam’s apple and the edges of his sharp jaw. Maker, you wanted to kiss it.

You plant your hands on his ribcage, supporting yourself as your body rolled on top of his. You lean down and press your lips to his collarbone and he shivers.

“You okay?” You look up at him.

“Haven’t- fuck… haven’t been touched in so long.” He breathes out.

“Like I said earlier…” you trail off, kissing his neck. “Let me take care of you.”

Din whines as you start to thrust down on him harder, barely nodding in response so his helmet didn’t hit your head with how close you were.

He’s almost shaking now, holding onto you tightly. One hand breaks away from your leg, reaching to the buttons on the wall inside the compartment. He shuts the door and then turns out the light inside.

“Woah, I cannot see anything.” You laugh a little.

“That’s the idea.” He says and you feel his arms reach up, take off his helmet and set it down by his head before grabbing your face and pulling you up to kiss him.

You whimper into his mouth, pussy squeezing around him. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths, tongues swirling and lips teasing each other’s.

“Din, you feel so good.” You whine and kiss him hard.

He kisses back just as enthusiastically, one hand moving down your back to grab your ass. The other hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with two fingers.

You groan against him, thrusting faster and rubbing down against him. You feel your thighs start to shake as your second orgasm gets closer.

“Not yet.” He moans into your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as you try to keep from cumming too soon.

“Almost.” He reassures you and kisses your neck, his facial hair making you tingle delightfully.

“Fuck.” You whine into his ear, not knowing how much longer you could go.

His hips start bucking up in time with yours, pushing somehow even deeper into you. “N- now.” He sighs as his cock twitches and he releases inside you.

As he fills you, your body goes into overdrive, second wave washing over you. “Din-!” You gasp, slamming down onto him hard.

He grunts as he fucks up into you, both of you gradually slowing. Once you’re both stopped, you stay on top of him, warming his cock.

“We should’ve done that weeks ago.” You sigh happily.

Din’s chest vibrates as he laughs softly. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh without the modulator in his helmet and you could really imagine getting used to it. But you tried not to get too far ahead of yourself.

“We only met a few weeks ago.” He hums.

You kiss him sweetly. “I know.”

I'm Finishing It

Requested by:: @lizzydutton

Pairing:: dad!Rip x Reader

Warnings:: swearing, fighting

Gif not mine, credit to the owner

My dad didn't want me staying in the bunkhouse. The only female boarding with the wranglers was not going to end well. For them.

Everything had been going okay for the most part. The guys just had to get used to sharing a bathroom with me. If I caught them looking at me, I'd say something to make them remember who my father was. Worked every time.

Then, the new guy shows up. He didn't understand the rules of the bunkhouse but he also didn't understand the rules about me. I knew it was going to end badly as soon as he walked in the door and looked at me.

"What's your name?" he asked, tipping his hat a little after he strode over to me from across the room. I didn't look up at him, too focused on my card game.

"Y/N," I answered. "What's yours?" I tossed my cards down, smiling up to Colby. I had him beat. As I pulled the chips to my pile, I waited for the new guy to answer.

"Mike," he chuckled. "You good at poker, Y/N?" He sat down next to me, putting his arm on the back of my chair.

"Yeah," I scoffed, pointing to Ryan. "Deal 'em." The guys watched as I didn't pay any attention to Mike as he undressed me with his eyes. I knew what he was doing. I didn't have to look at him to know.

"You know, I've been to a few different ranches," he chuckled, shifting forward so more of his weight was on the back of my chair. "Never seen a woman in the bunkhouse."

"Yellowstone 's different," Lloyd grunted, tossing his chips in the pot. "Call."

"Check," I sighed, knocking my hand on the table.

"I heard this place was different," Mike nodded. "You wear the brand too?" He reached out, pulling the collar of my shirt away from my chest.

I jumped up, shoving him backward. His chair tipped and fell back, hitting the floor. The guys jumped up, taking their cards and chips with them.

"You don't fucking touch me!" I yelled. He stood up, towering over me. Raising his hand, he backhanded me and I fell into the poker table. I could feel my blood boiling as my blood dripped onto my cards on the table.

"Hey, no fighting on the ranch!" Lloyd warned, pointing at Mike. Wiping my bleeding lip, I stared up at him.

"I don't care about the rules anymore," I growled. I punched him as hard as I could. He barely moved as I punched him in the stomach. When he didn't move, I knew I was screwed. He drew his arm back as the door kicked open.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Dad yelled. I turned around to look at him and he noticed the state of my face. It wasn't looking good for Mike, raising his fist like that. "You hit my daughter?" he asked.

"Yeah, but she started it when she-"

Mike's tattling was cut off by Dad's fist connecting with his jaw. He didn't even give Mike a chance to hit the ground. Grabbing his shirt, he launched him across the table. The guys jumped out of the way of the thrown body and table.

"What's the rule about fighting?" he yelled in Mike's face as he held him down. "You wanna fight someone, you come fight me because I'll fight you all fucking day! And you don't touch my fucking daughter!" He punched him a few more times, dropping his head down on the floor.

He turned to face me. I was expecting the same treatment. Anyone who got in a fight got beat by him. I puffed up my chest, preparing for the blows. Instead, he touched my cheek. I winced under his hand. There must've been a bruise there already.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked me softly. "You know the rule." I looked down at the ground, trying to find a way to explain it to him.

"He looked down her shirt for the brand," Jimmy said, trying to help me. "It was self-defense."

"Shut the fuck up, Jimmy," Dad scoffed.

"Yeah, I know the rule," I said quickly so he wouldn't go after Jimmy. "But you also told me I had to protect myself in here. Which is what I did."

He tried to find a way to argue with me. I like to think that he knows I wouldn't just start a fight because I knew he would come end it. I only throw a punch when I need to.

Mike tried to stand up, using the collapsed table as support. It gave way under him and he fell back down. His face was already bruised and starting to swell. He stood up, looking over at us. Grabbing his hat from the floor, he put it on his head and walked out the door.

"Clean this shit up in here," Dad said. He followed Mike outside, either to ask him to stay and work or take him to the train station.

Colby and I fixed the broken table as Ryan picked up the cards and chips off the floor. As we sat down around the table, I held my beer against my cheek. Jimmy passed out the cards, counting to himself.

Dad walked back inside, taking his hat off and hanging it on the hook. We all turned to look at him, wondering what happened. He went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Pulling up a chair, he sat down beside me.

"Deal me in, Jimmy," he said. Ryan handed him some poker chips as he took a sip of his beer. "Mike's leaving us." We all nodded, not really caring. "He didn't want a ride, so he's walking to town."

"More beer for us," I chuckled quietly as I took a sip.