Am I In Love With Obi-Wan Kenobi?… Yes. Yes I Am.

When you look for a fic on Tag Reader and the main character already has a name and social security number...

Donnie

One shots:

Bucky Barnes

One shots

Moodboard

Anniversary

Mini series

Din Djarin

One shots:

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Instagram blurbs: (modern)

- only yours

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I'd be a terrible Jedi.... You're telling me that they were supposed to not have feelings of attachment and yet there were these men walking around the Jedi Temple:

Me internally if either of them looked in my direction:

I most definitely 100% have a type. I am their young controversial gf. You see them? There so bbg 😣

This should not be giving me a kink💀😭

Hi kel! Could I maybe request riding dins boot and he’s just loving every second of it? We don’t have enough boot riding fics on this website!!!!! Thank you!!!!!!

Clean Up Your Act

Dom!Din Djarin x Sub/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you so much for this request! Special thanks to @chaotic-mystery for the title 🥹🤍

Summary: When you don’t do what you’re told, Din comes up with a special punishment.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), no Grogu, established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, boot riding (don’t worry you clean it first🧽), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, sir kink, slight degradation, spitting, pet names (good girl, cyar’ika, mesh’la), helmet comes off, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Din’s been gone for ages now, off tracking down a bounty on this random Outer Rim planet. He landed the Razor Crest in a barren field, leaving you here with the ramp locked and telling you “Don’t open it until I’m back”. You’ll do as you’re told. You’re almost always a good girl for him. 

You entertain yourself as best as you can, thinking about what Din’s doing right now. Your mind drifts off to thoughts of him effortlessly restraining the bounty… Or his big, strong arms wrapping around the guy’s neck… Or his gloved hands grasping his blaster… Or-

Maker, you’ve got it bad. And now there’s a warm, tingling feeling brewing between your legs. It would be so easy… so convenient to just touch yourself to the thought of him. But you’re a good girl and you never touch yourself without his permission. All you can do is sit here and wait. 

You flop down on the cot, staring at the ceiling and wishing he was back already. You don’t know how long he’s been gone exactly but one thing is certain— he’s been gone too long. 

The beep of the comlink on the shelf snaps you from your thoughts. You roll off the cot and grab it, bringing it to your ear and pretending Din’s here whispering in the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine… 

“Cyar’ika? I’m on my way back. Be a good girl and be ready waiting for me, okay?” his low, raspy voice says through the comlink.

You press the button to respond and say, “Of course, sir. See you soon,” before complying with his request. You know exactly what he means by “be ready and waiting for me”. He wants you naked and waiting for him on the cot. Which is an easy request. If you do exactly as you’re told he’ll be sure to take care of you real good when he’s back. 

You strip your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and lie down on the cot, the excitement fluttering in your stomach. You stare up at the ceiling, anxiously awaiting his return. You’ve been waiting so long… so long that you’re starting to feel tired. You should wake up before he gets back, right?

Wrong. 

Din’s towering form over you wakes you up. His hands are resting on his hips and his visor is fixed on you and your naked form. 

“What do we have here?” he tuts, cocking his helmet to the side. 

Your eyes widen at the realization of what you’ve done. You sit up, looking up at Din whose stance is not changing. You know what’s about to happen. You’re about to get punished. 

He lets out a sigh and says, “What happened to being a good girl?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, sir,” you apologize. 

“Well, that’s a start,” he sighs, “But you need to be punished.”

“I know, sir,” you admit. 

He leaves the bunk and walks over to a crate in the storage area, sitting down with a wide stance. You glance over at the bounty who’s frozen in carbonite before shifting your eyes to his thick thighs. But also… his dirty boots. 

“I’ve had such a long day,” he sighs. 

You get up and follow him, standing before him with your eyes fixed on his boots. He follows your line of sight and an idea pops into his head. 

“Be a good girl and clean my boots,” he commands. 

You head to a cabinet, searching for a rag and a canteen of water. You dampen it and walk back over to Din, kneeling on the cold metal floor before his boots. Following instructions you scrub his boots clean of all the dirt and grime. And the whole time you’re doing that, he’s degrading you, telling you how disappointed he is. 

“Shame you couldn’t follow instructions,” he says. 

You meet his visor, your eyes pleading with him for any turn of affection or praise. 

“I would’ve taken such good care of you,” he continues. 

“Din, please,” you whine. 

“Try that again,” he says sternly. 

“Please, sir.”

“Please, sir, what?”

“Please, sir. I can’t take it anymore. I need you,” you whine again. 

You pull the rag away from his left boot and move to the right one. His visor follows you, watching as you meticulously clean his boot. Just as the right boot is finally clean, he brings his hands to the edge of his helmet, lifting it off his head and setting it on the floor beside him. He leans forward and spits on the toe of the book you just cleaned. 

Your mouth falls open and he doesn’t stop there. He grabs your chin, angles your face up towards his, and spits into your mouth. He closes your mouth and leans back against the wall, enjoying the bewildered look in your eyes. 

“What?” he says, lips curling into a smirk.

“Please, sir. I need something,” you whine, eyes moving back down to his boot. 

“Ride my boot,” he commands. 

“What? I-”

“I think you mean yes, sir,” he says. 

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, inching forward to straddle his boot. 

You lower your cunt against the leather of his boot, feeling your wetness slip and slide against it. You rest your hands on top of his thigh, gripping the beskar armor as you pleasure yourself. He’s looking down at you with a devilish grin while you hump his boot. You’re desperate, aching for any kind of relief no matter how he lets you have it. 

“Poor girl. So desperate that you’ll take my boot. Isn’t that right?”

He cups your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb. Your eyes plead with his, begging for more. His gaze softens and his smirk falls just a bit, taking pity on you and how deliriously horny you are. 

“Give me one orgasm and maybe I’ll think about giving you my cock.”

“Really?” 

He chuckles when your eyes light up. 

“Show me you deserve it,” he says, tilting his head to the side. 

You rock your hips back and forth, rubbing your soaking wet cunt against his boot. With each movement of your hips, your clit gets stimulated just right and you’re sent closer to the edge. 

“You can do it, mesh’la. Soak my boot.”

The leather pushes up against your clit once more and you’re seeing stars. Your cunt clenches around nothing, aching to be filled. You feel your release soak his boot and your inner thighs. A mangled moan escapes your lips and your head is thrown back in pleasure. He marvels every moment of watching you like this; watching you make a mess of yourself on his boot of all things. 

“Good girl,” he praises, leaning forward and pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss against your lips. He removes his hand from your face to pull his already hard cock out of his flight suit. You look at it with wide eyes, taking note of the way it springs free and falls against his stomach. The pre-cum is gathered at the tip, oozing from his foreskin and threatening to slide down his shaft. 

“C-Can I ride it now?” you ask, looking up at him and hoping he’ll say yes. 

“You’ve earned it,” he says. 

You eagerly rise from the floor and move to straddle him, resting your knees on the crate. You sink down onto his cock, sighing at the feeling of finally being full. You stay still for a moment, reveling in the feeling but he’s impatient. He wants to see you bounce on his cock like a good girl. He slaps your ass and says, “Get to work,” before bringing both of his hands to your waist. 

You do as you’re told, bouncing and grinding on his cock. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as his cock hits the deepest angles inside you. His hands move from his waist to your breasts, caressing the soft skin before taking your nipples in between his fingertips. You let out a sharp gasp and bounce on his cock even harder, anxious to cum from his cock this time. He leans forward away from the wall, leaving wet, sloppy kisses on your chest, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin. Your moans and cries become incessant as you get closer to the edge, so close to relief but still out of each. 

“Cum on my cock, mesh’la,” he says between kisses and bites. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on his locks as you’re finally sent over the edge. Your moans and whimpers fill the small storage area of the Crest. He pinches your nipples harder as you cum, intensifying your release. Your walls flutter and pulse around him, eliciting a deep moan from his lips. He lets out a string of curse words in Mando’a that you don’t understand as his arms wrap around your body, pulling you into him as he cums. 

You rest against him, both of you panting and coming down from your respective highs. You pull back and look him in the eye, his pupils blown wide, his eyes filled with so much love for you, his good girl. 

“Are you going to disobey my orders again?” he asks, complete with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive smirk. 

“No, sir,” you say. 

“That’s my good girl,” he says, pulling you back into his chest and rubbing your back. 

His good girl you’ll always be… But you do have to act up sometimes… 

apparitions.

premise: you don’t know how this came to be; steven fucking you in front of a mirror. your body and pleasure showcased to marc, to prove a point, to show him steven knows best.

pairing: steven grant x (f)reader

word count: 839

warnings: minors dni please, marc x reader are mentioned and alluded in here but not shown, unprotected sex, literally just smut, dom!steven, teasing, voyeurism in a sense.

etc: this is based on this and this ask, i kind of strayed from the initial idea since i plan on writing a version of this, but not quite the same, with marc and other oscar characters, but me writing steven as a dom? shocking i know lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

“Does he do it better than me?” Steven hums, you’ve never heard his voice so deeply coated with jealousy and lust. The dynamic the three of you had was always so well laid out, who spent this time with you one day, or that time another day. Sometimes both of them at once. There had never been any fighting over you, over the moments shared with one of the other. It was an equal playing ground, you adored them both the same as they loved you the same.

Competition didn’t fit into the cracks of this unique relationship, and yet it was somehow showing it’s childish head right now.

Peering from around a corner with a sinister smirk as your palm dug into the edge of the mirror, Steven’s hand moving between your thighs as the pad of his finger rubbed circles against your clit; heavy pants mixed with moans spilling from your mouth, Steven’s dirty words making you clench around his thickness as it fucked up into you.

Your lids feel heavy, the exhaustion of being toyed with and fucked for what feels like hours—all in the means of proving a point—seeping into you bone deep. Steven’s other arm having to hold up your waist to prevent you from falling forward; and just letting him use you.

His reflection shows blown out pupils tainted with determination of sexual prowess. Sometimes a smirk will cross his lips and you know Marc must have said something, must be toying with him—with both of you.

“Tell me, love.” Steven grunts against your ear, “can he fuck you this good? You’re so wet for me, grippin’ me so tight.”

You don’t know how, or why, this came to be; Steven fucking you in front of a mirror. Your entire naked body on display in front of it as he pounds into you, your chest heaving, a sheen of sweat coating your breasts and abdomen as he makes you come for the third time tonight. Part of you wants to feel annoyance or some kind of begrudging feeling at both men using you as some dick swinging contest, but it’s hard to do when Steven feels so good inside of you. When each thrust of his hips hitting your ass coats his filthy words to you—and Marc—so ridiculously obscene, how you can hear the wet noises of his cock merge with your pitiful moans as he uses you, plays with you, toys with you; it’s hard to feel anything other than this, to think about anything other than Steven.

Marc being an afterthought. Only remembered when Steven prompts you again: “thinks he knows your body, how to please you, you were mine first, he wouldn’t know how to touch you if it wasn’t for me. gotta show him how to fuck you right.”

“Steven,” you moan, body leaning back into his until he makes a disapproving sound and is straightening you back up.

“Don’t move, love. Marc needs to see you, needs to watch my fingers play with this perfect pussy of yours. How else will he learn?” You catch a glimpse of Steven’s smirk—at Marc—before your eyes are shutting in ecstasy, the building pleasure of the fingers against your clit, the cock inside of you, and how filthy and needy you must look like right now to Marc all bringing you closer and closer to coming again.

Both boys had a way of mixing pleasure and torture so good that you felt devilish with how bad you wanted them both. How bad you wanted to be face down and ass up for Marc, or spread out atop Steven’s desk for him. Steven had you first but now you belonged to both of them. You were addicted to both of them. Loved fucking both of them. Your mind can’t wrap itself around choosing which one fucks better, which one makes you come harder. They both leave you breathless and throbbing to the point of exhaustion.

But you will gladly let them use you for these silly little games again. Will happily let Steven showcase you in front of a mirror for Marc’s eyes, for him to be envious of; the image of how deeply torn with sexual desire and need he must look like right now makes a shuttering gasp catch in your lungs.

“Tell him how good it feels, tell him you’re mine.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, his eyes shifting from yours to the other side of the mirror. Steven’s saying something but it’s not to you, it’s cocky and sneering and clipped at the end with a deep groan as your cunt clenches harder around him.

“I’m–fuck,” you’re almost there, so close. You can barely keep your neck upright, your eyes barely open.

His lips are pressed to your ear, his pants sending shivers down your spine, “it’s killing him not being able to touch you.” Steven’s fingers pick up speed on your clit, his cock following suit. “Come on my cock love, give Marc a show, yeah?”

me and the joel miller girlies