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My Love, my Life. Death is upon thy breath and yet not thy beauty. Thou are not conquered yet, this beauty is in thy lips and thy cheeks and deaths pale flag has not been conquered there. Dear Juliet, why are thou so fair? Should I believe that unsubstantial death is amorous, keeps thee here in dark to be his paramour? Here, oh here will I stay with thee; and never from this place of dim night depart again: here, here I will remain. Eyes look at last, let me take one last embrace, and lips only to the doors to breath and seal with a righteous kiss.
ROMEO + JULIET
1996, dir. Baz Luhrmann
my life really did improve when i decided to just constantly, casually compliment my friends and family. i cannot recommend it more. it makes everything better. you look incredible in that shirt, you're one of the funniest people i know, you're wearing the hell out of that dress, you're so sexy wtf, you're so talented, i love talking to you, you're so fun to be around, you're so kind, that haircut is amazing, i love you, i love you, i love you
This sounds like bullshit when you're deep in throes of depression and burnout and all that. But it is a real technique and it really works.
By teaching yourself to always find a compliment first when you look at others, it becomes easier to loom for the 'good' or the 'potential' in everything else.
Including yourself, if self loathing is something you struggle with.
Practicing kindness to others makes kindness to yourself easier.
I have so many thoughts but I at least want to address the "for the new unicorn" note. because first of all it's so incredibly gratifying for izzy to finally be accepted into a community. it was shown before that the crew cares for him in some way but it was the first time he really saw that. that he isn't useless and alone, that he still has a place on the ship. even more so the crew WANTS HIM to be on the ship. and also that they want him to embrace his disability which doesn't make them think any less of him.
but also the choice of words. because inherently it rings queer, unicorn as a symbol of queerness. and even if it may have a negative sound when you use it differently here it is extremely positive. izzy is not only accepted to the crew, he's also accepted to the queer community, to the family. the unicorn on the revenge was also the one that was leading the ship, so one can argue that they want him to take that role in their dynamic.
and you can see that he does so immediately. he puts himself together and starts helping the crew. he's still bitchy but no longer violent and cruel. he helps stede and lucius immensely because that is what he does now. he's part of the family. twat.
Summary: The Mandalorian breaks into the Imperial safehouse where you're held captive and kidnaps you to use you as his slave... and you're not complaining. Kinktober 2023 special
Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ mdni, CNC, kidnapping, handcuffs, use of gag, bondage, dom!Din, sub!reader, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (m receiving), tease and denial, edging (m and f), creampie, cumplay, degradation kink, Mando'a speaking kink, dirty talk, face slapping, glove kink
A/N: Happy Kinktober! Here's my contribution! This should have been a fantasy of the reader in another story but I got a little carried away and it became its own oneshot. I'm feral about how it turned out. See below for Mando'a translations. I hope you enjoy it!
You only saw him a few hours before, when he entered the Imperial safehouse where you’re held captive, forced to work as a scientist at the facility.
You couldn’t take your eyes off him - tall, broad shoulders, mysterious, a dark and raspy voice that made you melt in an instant. You have heard he’s one of the best bounty hunters in the outer rim. He acted disdainful towards the Imperials, pointing his rifle at them as soon as he perceived a hint of menace.
You looked at him completely entranced the whole time, devouring him with your eyes. You noticed he tilted his helmet towards you more than once, and felt his hunter gaze scouting your figure as he barely paid attention to the Imperial officer talking to him.
When he left, you felt the urge to immediately go touch yourself.
You locked the lab door behind you and slipped your hand in your panties. You sighed when you reached your slit and felt you were drenched at the mere thought of him. You started circling your fingers around your swollen clit and rested your head against the steel door behind you. Your mouth let out a groan too loud and instinctively your free hand went covering it to muffle how much thinking about the Mandalorian warrior was getting you off.
You let your body slide down until you were kneeling on the floor with your legs spread open. You thought of how hot his masculine voice would sound moaning your name while you’d be on your knees sucking his cock. You circled your clit in a frenzy, trying to be as silent as possible, but the wet noises of your arousal were betraying you. You thought of his heavy, thick body on yours, of how hard he’d fuck you, of him panting in your ear. Those thoughts drove you over the edge and felt the hot spark of the orgasm setting you aflame. You squeezed your eyes shut and had to hold your breath as that hot wave of pleasure was traversing your whole body, reducing you to a weak, trembling mess collapsed on the lab floor.
The very same night he comes for you.
He breaks into the safehouse, exterminating everyone in it, mercilessly, using his huge rifle, and then he opens the door to your room and finds you there, laying in your bed, still half asleep, scared and disoriented by all the noise, dressed only in a light nightgown.
In a second he is on you, his heavy armoured body is preventing you from moving. You do not even attempt to resist him, you stay completely still and carefully observe every action he does.
He’s holding both of your wrists in the tight grip of one of his hands, as the other one rummages in his utility belt to take out handcuffs, which he immediately uses on you.
You feel a tingle of excitement as his fingers slowly loosen their grasp and start to lightly trail down your naked arm, until they reach your neckline, where they delicately pull the fabric of your dress down to free one of your breasts.
He admires your hardened nipple, tilting his helmet sideways as his middle finger gently brushes it, drawing circles around it. You sigh at the tender touch of the leather against your sensitive skin, and when he hears that sound, his inscrutable visor immediately jerks towards your face, to look at your aroused expression.
To your disappointment, his hand stops touching your nipple, goes back to his utility belt and takes out a piece of cloth with which he gags you - not because he needs to prevent you from screaming and pleading for your life, no. You immediately realise that he’s turned on by it - treating you like one of his preys, hunting you, kidnapping you, making you his. The thought of it gets you more and more aroused the more this unspoken, borderline wicked dynamic plays between the two of you.
He then picks you up from your bed and carries you on his shoulder like his trophy through the dark, desert streets of Nevarro, all the way back to his ship, where he lays your body down on the cold steel floor and fixes your handcuffed hands to the bottom rung of the ladder leading to the cockpit.
He kneels before you and rips your thin clothes off with his hands, rabid and longing, making you gasp in arousal at that vulgar display of strength, and looks at your naked body and at the marvellous way it responds to him, so eager at the thought of being owned by him.
When his hands start to touch your body and you feel the leather of his gloves against your skin, you let out a deep, muffled moan and pathetically try to follow his movements with your body, craving for more contact.
He indulges on your breasts, tender and soft, groping and squeezing them. His touch is unexpectedly delicate, and you carefully follow it with your eyes, seeing the way he makes you simmer as he takes all the time he wants to reduce you to a whimpering mess.
He plays with your nipples, feeling how hard they get with just the brush of his fingers circling them, making them hard and stiff.
Use me. Use me. Use me. You beg for him with your muffled voice and body language.
His hands then trail down to your soft belly and round hips. He caresses and squeezes your feminine curves, longing for the moment when he'll finally dig his fingers into them while using you for his pleasure.
You can’t help spreading your legs for him, letting him have a look at your glistening core, already so wet for him, warm and inviting. He lets out a low, guttural hum when he sees how yearning and desperate you are for his touch, knowing his painfully slow teasing is working wonders on you.
His fingers trail so close to your wet folds, and the whimpering noises you make are absolutely pathetic as he taunts you, softly brushing your inner thighs and outer lips without touching your most sensitive spot yet. Your breathing gets laboured as he gets close to your clit and barely brushes it, teasing you, making you stutter with a brief, imperceptible touch, only to proceed down your slit and slide two fingers inside of you, making you arch your back in pleasure, moaning as loud as you can as you clench around them.
"You like this, don't you?" he asks as he takes out his fingers, completely soaking wet. He seems so pleased as he admires the leather of his gloves glistening in your arousal.
"Go on. Taste yourself on my fingers." he ungags you as he pushes them inside your mouth.
You obediently suck his fingers, gently licking them with your tongue, tasting the salty of your arousal, the bitterness of the leather and the faint metallic taste left by his guns. You look at him with lustful eyes right in his visor as your tongue swirls around his fingers, letting him know with your gestures that you'd suck his cock any time he wants, that all you care for in the galaxy is just to give him pleasure.
He hums in satisfaction, thinking of the way your sweet mouth will welcome his cock, how far it'll go into your throat, and how badly he wants to cover your pretty face in cum.
He takes out his fingers from your mouth and gags you once again. After that, he stands up and goes to his well-stocked armoury, taking some ropes out and coming back kneeling between your legs. He spreads them even more open, to the limit, and enjoys the view of your achingly needy cunt, drawing a few circles on your clit with his thumb, driving you insane as he looks at you whimpering and rolling your hips towards him.
He starts by tying each of your legs to the same ladder where your hands are, so that it’s impossible for you to close them. After that, he patiently wraps a rope around each of them, tying your thigh and ankle together, immobilising you, so you’re always available, at his mercy, any time he wants, and the thought of that gets you even more aroused. You’re drenched by now, you feel your sleek coating your inner thigh and dripping on the floor below you. Maker, you've never been this wet in your life, ever.
He looks at your helpless body, trailing his gloved fingers on your inner thigh, making you feel leather against your skin once again, rejoicing in the fact that you can’t move, making you quiver with lust as he smirks under that damn helmet seeing that you are so wet for him. He sees the way you react to his body, to his dick, to his touch, and Stars, he is so turned on by that.
He unfastens his utility belt and unzips his pants to finally take out his big, thick cock. It's throbbing and veiny and its tip is deliciously red and glistening in precum. You mewl just looking at it, feeling your walls clench in anticipation.
He immediately starts sliding it painfully slowly between your folds and it’s fucking debilitating after all of that excruciating teasing. You arch your back while moaning hysterically, begging for more as your eyes uncontrollably cross as you try to keep your gaze on his tip teasing your aching cunt. He keeps rubbing, keeps rubbing it on your clit and you feel so close already, and right when your body starts shaking in preparation for the imminent orgasm, he stops, taking it away from you, and starts stroking himself at the sight of you - so desperate for his cock, getting off from your agony. He gropes the soft flesh of your thighs and keeps giving himself pleasure in front of you. You can barely hear him panting under the helmet and oh, damn, he sounds even hotter than you’d imagined. It's such a pleasurable torture to be forced to look at him without being able to do anything, to hear the wet sounds of him fucking his fist so close to you when you wish you were the one who makes him feel so good.
He gives one last squeeze to his cock, letting a drop of precum out, then he slides his tip inside of you, making you roll your head back, sighing at the feeling of having him inside of you, finally.
When he feels how welcoming and hot you are, he groans in pleasure. His raspy voice makes you clench around him. He feels how tight you get when your muscles clench, and he lets out a barely audible curse.
He takes it out and immediately slides it back in, just the tip, just to play with you, to tease you, to get you on the verge of your orgasm and who knows, maybe he won't give it to you. You're at his mercy, you have to accept anything he's willing to give you. Will he make you come? Will he fuck your pussy, or will he just tease you like that indefinitely, leaving you crying and begging for him, as he gets off in your frustration, covering your body in his cum?
He goes on tormenting you like that for what feels like forever. A long, pleasurable torment where you desperately beg for him to put it back in everytime. Your whole body is shaking at the cruel game he's playing with you.
You wonder what he looks like. You bet he's handsome and he's smirking sadistically under that helmet, getting off from your desperation. His body exudes sexuality and confidence, his voice is deep and sensual - he is hot for sure.
He puts his tip in one more time, but now he's pushing all his shaft inside of you, and he's looking at your tearful eyes and how they widen in wonder when you feel him sliding slowly inside of you - deep, so deep, like you've never been fucked before, making you feel owned, marked, his property, his. He knows how good his cock is making you feel and that you'll never be fucked this good by anyone else in the galaxy.
He can't help sighing at how tight you are, and he sounds so hot when he does. You're so wet, the obscene sounds of him sliding in and out of you fill the hull of the ship. He's grabbing your legs, thrusting deep and slow, his head leaned back, completely sinking into the pleasure that is fucking you, controlling you, owning you.
When he picks up the pace, he starts cursing in a foreign language, gasping and groaning at the way your walls clench around his cock.
“Bid pel bal piryc par ni.” he growls in between sighs. He sounds even hotter when he speaks what you assume is his native language. There's something about the way that ancient language of warriors sounds that fits him and his husky voice so well. You don't understand a word, but you can tell by how pleased his voice sounds that he's praising you and the way you feel around him. You too are enjoying his cock so much. Maker, the pleasure he is providing you with is one you’ve never felt before. You’re forced to take him in any way he wants, completely subjugated by him and his desires, and it’s so perverse and thrilling that you’re already addicted to it.
You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he thrusts into you, hitting your clit at just the perfect angle, building your pleasure gradually, until you feel on the edge - your breathing is getting laboured, your body starts to shake, you’re just there… but he takes it out and you feel like you’ve been robbed of air from your lungs.
You're so desperate, your whole body is shaking, your handcuffs rattle against the ladder behind you in protest and you let out cries. You must look pretty pathetic to him, who is enjoying the sight of your desperation and the sound of you whimpering by viciously stroking his cock in front of you, letting you see and hear how wet you've made it, his helmet is cold and won't betray any emotion. You can only arch your back and roll your hips begging for him to put his cock back into you.
When he's satisfied and has seen you beg for him enough, he slides it back in, the both of you moaning at the same time at the feeling. He immediately picks up his rhythm and grips your throat in his hand, forcing you to look at him while he’s choking you.
"Mircet'ad." he growls as he thrusts into you. "Ner mircet'ad" rasps again.
You look at him, not sure about what it means, but his voice is hot like lava against your skin as he speaks that foreign language.
"Yes, that's what you are. Do you know what it means? I want you to. It means slave. My slave. Ner mircet'ad. That's the only way I'll be calling you."
He made a point of what you are to him - nothing more than a sex slave that he will use when he comes back after his hunts, to let off steam after catching his quarries. Bounty hunting is tough, and you'll be his relief, something warm and giving always waiting for him with open arms and legs and that will make him feel so, so good any time he wants. His Mircet'ad. That word keeps echoing in your head and you drench yourself at that thought. He feels the way you're spasming around him and how aroused that made you.
"Do you like being called like that, little whore? You like being used?" he wraps his hands around your throat even tighter.
You nod as you look at him with needy, lustful eyes.
When he sees that, he goes crazy and just starts jackhammering you, digging his fingers in your hips as leverage, making you lose control over your mind and body, completely overwhelmed by the way he's fucking you brainless.
"What a fucking slut. Feel how wet you get when I call you my slave. Fuck, you’re such a whore. Wanted to fuck you so badly since I saw you. Do you think I didn't notice the way you were looking at me, whore? Made me walk out of there rock hard, thinking of the things I'd do to you. Gonna fucking wreck your pretty cunt. You feel so good, ner mircet’ad." his voice alone could make you come, and you both feel the way your pussy reacts to him, uncontrollable spasms of excitement that further add to the already overwhelming pleasure, hoping he maintains that promise.
He takes it out again when he feels you're on the edge. And again, your body begs for him. You know he's enjoying seeing his slave begging for him.
"Fuck. Killed so many people to fuck this little pussy. Let me enjoy it. Let me hear how much you want my cock." he pants as he looks at you.
Your back arches and you let out desperate moans as the hand wrapping your throat grips your jaw instead, blocking your face in that position, letting him look at your face.
"Beg for it like the needy slave that you are." he lowers the gag from your mouth.
"P-please, please put it back in. I want your dick inside of my pussy. Please, I need it." you let out in a pleading voice on the verge of tears.
"Hmm. Go on. What do you want me to do to you?"
"Anything you want. I am your whore. I'm here to please you. I want you to wreck me and fill me with your cum. I want to come on your dick so badly, so fucking badly, please! I want you to make me scream until I beg you to stop. I want to give it to you any time you want and hurt for days. I want you to use me, please! I want to be your slav-"
He slaps you in the face, stopping that flow of obscenities from coming out of your mouth.
"You are my slave." he snarls as he grips your jaw tighter, bringing your face so close to his helmet. You look at him right in his visor, so heavily aroused by the rough way he's handling you, asserting his dominance and ownership. You are his slave. His slave. The thought of it sends a thrill of arousal down your spine and turns you on so much.
"What a filthy little mouth you have. Let me use it before we're done." he growls as he takes a good look at you.
"Damn you're pretty. Wanna ruin this beautiful face. Look at these perfect lips. Can't wait to see them wrapped around my cock." he says while tracing your lips with his thumb.
He positions himself over you, with his dick right in front of your face and you can't help elongating your neck towards it, sticking out your tongue to lick the salty slick of your arousal from its shaft, making him grunt as he feels how hot and velvety your tongue is.
"Yes, yes, lick it. Feel how wet you've made it, ner mircet'ad." he slides his wet cock inside your mouth and you welcome it, brushing it with your tongue, tasting yourself on him, adoring it.
He gasps at the feeling and goes on sliding all of his length in. You take it in greedily, keeping your gaze on his visor. He pushes it in your throat without resistance on your side. The Mandalorian is amazed at the way you take his cock.
"What a greedy whore you are. You want it all, don't you?"
You moan at that, sending vibrations to his cock, making him throb and choke a sigh as his hand grips tight to the ladder.
He loses it completely at how obedient you are and starts thrusting into your throat, making you feel used like an object for his own pleasure - you can feel by the way he's panting that he's loving it… and you are, too. When he takes it out it’s completely drenched in your saliva, and he grabs you by the hair and looks at you.
"Ner mircet'ad, I knew your mouth would be perfect. You take my dick so good. All of it, deep in your throat. Good girl, you deserve to be fucked so hard." he praises you, then he positions himself once again kneeling in front of you, lifting the gag over your mouth.
He grabs his cock in his hand and slowly slides it back inside of your desperate, throbbing cunt, letting you feel every inch of him.
"Oh, fuck, you take it so good" he lets out in a low, pleased whisper.
He immediately starts to rail you once he's buried deep inside of you, making you uncontrollably moan and tremble.
"Bet you never had a cock this good. No one's ever fucked you like I am right now. Gonna give it to you anytime I want, and you'll be taking me like the fucking whore that you are, ner mircet'ad." he buries his cock deep inside of you and he stops, as he’s close to his own orgasm this time. He’s panting and shaking as he grips tight to the ladder with both of his hands, towering over you with his broad figure. You can see the outline of his biceps from under the thick layers of duraweave and Maker, it's such a delightful view. You roll your hips against his so as not to stop stimulation, moaning provocatively. It’s so good, you don’t want him to stop just now.
“S-stop it.” he grunts as you keep moving your hips, disobeying him, getting even more aroused by the way his voice sounds when he's restraining himself.
“Fuck. Greedy slave, you want all of my cum, don’t you? You want me to fill you up and drain me, to be my cum slut, huh? If you k-keep moving like this I’ll - I’ll - fuck” he lets his dick slip out of you with the very last inch of self control he has left. His whole body is trembling and he is panting as you beg for him with your muffled voice.
“Fuck, you’re a temptress. An insatiable slave. A fucking cocksucking, cum addicted whore. Stars above, if you want it so badly, I’m gonna give it to you. You make me want to fuck you so hard and fill you so deep. Damn, take it.” he puts it back in and starts to rail you at a debilitating rhythm, making you shake your legs out of lust and roll your eyes because of the pleasure.
"Shit. I'm so close" he grunts as you look at him with pleading eyes, making your handcuffed hands rattle on the ladder.
"Do you want me to make you come, mircet'ad?"
You frantically nod your head.
"Yeah - bet you did. I will make you come. If you ever make it out alive from my ship, I wouldn't want you to say that the Mandalorian didn't satisfy you. It would be bad, wouldn't it?"
You keep nodding your head, feeling your cunt throbbing with need and lust at the thought.
"Get ready, I know you're close."
The angle at which his cock is hitting your clit is sending you to heaven, just as the thought of him restraining from his own orgasm to give one to you first.
"Let me hear you. Let me hear how fucking good I'm making you come" he finally frees you from your gag and you can finally let him hear your desperate, loud moans.
A few more thrusts of his thick cock inside of you and you feel the devastating force of the orgasm blazing through your body, making you burst. Finally, after a never-ending edging torture, he lets you come. From the position you're forced in, with your legs completely spread open, the power of your orgasm seems even more shattering than ever, nothing like you've ever experienced before. You can feel your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his cock, making him grunt as you let out the hottest, headiest moans he's ever heard.
"Fuck. F-fuck. How can you feel so good?! M-maker you're tight. Fuck. Killing me. G-going to fill you. Fill you with my cum. N-now. My slave. F-fucking mine." he snarls and fills you with his hot load, his cock pumping it deep and hard inside of you as you groan loudly and sensually and won't stop looking at him. He tries to muffle his own moans by gritting his teeth, and Maker, he sounds even hotter when he gives up, letting those heady moans out, losing control, wholly abandoning himself to that overwhelming pleasure. He grips tight to the ladder with both of his hands, preventing his body from collapsing on yours, burying his cock deep inside of you as you both slowly come down from your high.
“I’m your slave.” you softly whisper in your post orgasmic haze, smiling.
"Ni gar mircet'ad" he teaches you. He trails his fingers on your mouth and you kiss them sweetly, looking at him in the visor.
“Ni gar mircet'ad, Mando” you repeat in a sweet, tender voice.
“Gar serim, ner mircet’ad. So fucking hot when you speak Mando’a to me.” he lightly wraps his hand your throat once again.
"You too." you reply.
"Oh, you like it when I speak Mando'a to you?" he lets his hand trail all over your body, making you sigh when it stops between your legs and starts rubbing your clit.
"Yes. So hot. You're so hot." you go on praising him in between moans as he picks up the rhythm of his fingers.
"'lek, ner aikiyc mircet'ad, k'olar tug'yc par ni bat ni cere. Come for me again on my fingers." the sound of his dark voice, sweetly whispering those words while touching your clit drives you wild and you can't help obeying his order, coming again after a few rubs of your clit, so unbelievably aroused by that. His visor is locked on you, on your eyes that uncontrollably cross and roll because of the pleasure, on your mouth letting out filthy sounds of pleasure, all while he keeps speaking his native language throughout your orgasm, encouraging you.
"'lek. 'lek. Jate, ner mircet'ad. Bid mesh'la. K'olar par ni."
After that second orgasm you feel completely debilitated and just collapse, exhausted but so, so satisfied.
When he slips out of you, he enjoys seeing your exposed cunt slowly leaking his cum out, wrecked and still spasming in aftershock. He uses his cock to gather all the seed that escaped from you and push it back inside of your hole. When he’s done, he looks at you in the face, his cock is still hard.
“Will you clean it for me, mircet'ad?” asks gently as you have already opened your mouth wide open for him.
“Good girl.” says as he slides his cock in your mouth. You taste both of your orgasms in your mouth and hum, sucking it avidly and licking it clean.
“Damn you’re perfect” says as he tucks his softening cock back into his pants.
"So hot when you come for me. Taking my cock like a hungry whore. I will keep you here on my ship. You'll be my slave. No one except for me will ever lay one finger on you. You belong to me now. You're my property.” he tells you as he frees you from the handcuffs and ropes. You swear you are so tired you could fall asleep right there, right now, but he picks you up in his arms and lays you down in a cot - his cot, you will learn later.
______
Translations:
I have used mandocreator.com as reference.
- Bid pel bal piryc par ni = So soft and wet for me
- Gar serim = Yes, that's right
- 'lek, ner aikiyc mircet'ad, k'olar tug'yc par ni bat ni cere = Yeah, my desperate slave, come for me again on my fingers
- 'lek. 'lek. Jate, ner mircet'ad. Bid mesh'la. K'olar par ni. = Yeah, yeah. Good, my slave. So beautiful. Come for me.
You ever think about how he likes to glide the very tip of his fangs down your soft skin, so fragile and delicate under his powerful hands. He could rip you apart but he'd rather see you fall apart while he's inside you. So he keeps teasing, dragging his tongue up your calf, keeping your legs spread, only stopping to sink his teeth in you.
"My personal taste of heaven," he murmurs in a deceptively sweet voice before his lips move over your inner thigh. Before you can protest, pleasure spikes through your body, so intense and potent and hot, that you cant even make a sound.
He can hear your frantically racing heart, feel the rush of blood pumping through your veins, and he can smell your fear and arousal. It makes him want to ruin you in ways you can't imagine, makes him want to ravage and cherish you.
He leaves your trembling thigh, wiping his bloodstained mouth with his thumb. " Fuck you're sweet, angel. Marry me."
You slump back down, back hitting the sheets. "No." Your voice comes out on a wispy breath despite your efforts to remain stern.
He laughs, amused by your platry attempts to deny your place as his queen. He swiftly moves, positioning his face above your dripping, glistening pussy. So pretty. So wet for him. Traitorous little thing reveals just how much you've been lying to him. He'll reward her while punishing you for your insolence.
"It wasn’t a question." He opens his mouth right over your throbbing clit. "You. Will. Marry. Me."
You don't get the chance to say no before he descends, pulling your clit into his mouth. His piercing blue eyes watching as you arch off the bed, a beautifully desperate noise escaping past your lips.
You'll be his. He'll make sure of it. Even if he has to take you on the church alter and get you to cry out "I do" on the cusp of your orgasm.
The room was almost pitch black, save for the endless bright streaks of light that lit up behind your eyelids as you traveled through hyperspace in the Razor Crest. You had lived on the ship for the past few months, traveling with the Mandalorian and his baby, simultaneously being used as both a live-in babysitter and nurse when the circumstances called for it. The situation had been ideal, a quid pro quo between the two of you, you get somewhere to live and are able to travel the galaxy at the same time.
The situation that you are currently in is a newer development, at the start of your journey with the man, few words were exchanged between the two of you. The Mandalorian was as stoic as could be, minding his own business and not bothering you, so you gave him the same courtesy, thinking that was exactly what he wanted, but boy were you wrong.
He had come to you one day asking if you were unhappy being there with them. It took you by surprise, because the most that the beskar man would say to you usually involved commands or rarely passing pleasantries. You had assured him, with a smile, that you were content with them, and thankful for him taking you on. He went on to explain that he assumed you were ignoring him and that you didn’t want to be around him, but you were quick to explain that it couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Now, that was what got you into your current situation. Your knees were bruised from being thrown into the floor at an accelerated rate, and angry friction marks began to appear the longer that you continued your ministrations. The room was peacefully quiet other than the soft pants and groans that escaped the modulator of his helmet, getting increasingly louder and more frequent as the time elapsed. His pants were open just enough for what you needed, not showing more skin than need be, the tan skin that adorned the Mandalorian’s upper thighs surprised you as soon as it was unveiled to you, but what was more surprising was the large tent in his underwear that revealed itself the moment you pulled his zipper down.
The large man sat in the pilot’s chair of the Razor Crest, helmet tipped back towards the ceiling, both hands grip the arm rests of the chair beside him, orange fingered gloves creasing with the tension he was putting on them. His legs were spread wide to accommodate your body between them, your hands sat gingerly on the tops of his thighs, thumbs rubbing affectionately back and forth in their place, adding to the stimulation that the bounty hunter was receiving.
Your mouth stretched wide to take him in, eyes watering due to the extent at which you were full of him. He was so much bigger than you had ever previously given him credit for. You knew the man gave off the energy that he was well endowed, but nothing could have prepared you for when you actually set your eyes on him. Praises and compliments flew from your watering mouth when you had pulled him out, small whimpers began to meet your ears at this, and that’s when you knew, the ‘big bad Mandalorian’ has a major praise kink.
Because of this conclusion that you had come to, you decided to exploit this obvious kink of his and pause every once in a while, to pull your mouth off of him and tell him just how pretty his sounds were, how gorgeous he looks above you, how wet he makes you without even having to touch you, and let me tell you, he was eating. it. up.
The moans that were coming out of his mouth were louder than you had ever even heard him speak, tension ran through each of his strong thighs that were caging you in against him. When you finally decided to pause the brief teasing, and put your mouth back to his angry, red tip, he ripped one hand from the armrest and knotted it in your hair, grasping your strands at the base of your head with a strength you were sure he had to use on his bounties, it was so strong. The sting at your scalp only added to the vigor at which you were sucking, hollowing out your cheeks and running your tongue along his slit as you came up for air. Every couple passes, you would take him in all the way, nose nestled in the dark curls at the base. You pause there, choking slightly, but loving the loud moans that meet your ears as you do so.
You could tell that he wasn’t going to last much longer as a slight bitterness began to grace your tongue as he began to dribble out. You let him begin to guide you head, hand still embedded in your hair with a strong grip, having him move you the way that he liked it, mentally taking note of the movements so you wouldn’t need his help in the future.
He warned you that he was about to cum, probably so you could decide what to do with that information when the time came, but you knew from the start that nothing could pull you away from him, from start all the way to finish. His grip on your hair began to loosen, just in case you wanted to pull away from him, ever the gentleman, but you didn’t move an inch, letting him swell and pulse inside your mouth as he came with a grunt, hips lifting up off the seat, thighs shaking with his release.
You didn’t let him go until his thighs relaxed, his hand completely slipping from your hair all together. You swallow down all that he had graciously given to you, your eyelashes flutter as you blink away the tears that were left in your eyes, watching him as he comes down and relaxes. You rest your head on one of his legs, wiping whatever was leftover on your face on the fabric of his black pants, leaving a small kiss behind as well.
You didn’t know exactly what this meant for your relationship, but you knew that it wasn’t quite going to be the same as it once was, and you were perfectly alright with that, the man that you had been admiring for the past few months was no longer as elusive as you had thought.
Excerpt: “Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”
You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”
He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”
And you did.
Warnings: sleepy, love-filled sex between a married couple. Wife!reader, grogu’s asleep, unprotected sex, mostly just kissing and feeling up. NOT breeding kink. A bit of cockwarming.
A/N: Once again, Happy Dincember everyone. I cannot explain how grateful I am for almost 3,000 followers without crying.
If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated :)
Pedro Masterlist
(GIF from Pinterest)
The familiar scuff of his boots on the Crest floor pulled you from REM sleep into barely languid, and the heat of your body from the cot’s covers warmed just so.
Your riduur was home.
Due to how out of it you were, it took you a few moments to realize that no, this wasn’t a dream. This was real. The two-day mission turned five, turned seven, turned nine, turned twelve was finally over, and your numb body somehow found the strength to prop itself up and drape yourself with the blankets.
You sat like that, all wrapped up in your cocoon, smiling to yourself with your eyes closed, for a few moments. You then stood up slowly, taking the blankets with you, and squinted your way out of the bedroom. Your eyes were no wider than slits, and you thanked the maker for muscle memory.
You swallowed the sleep from your mouth and rounded the corner, feeling your muscles ache with stretch, still in a daze. Your head was beginning to swim with dopamine, and with one last yawn, you made it to the cock pit.
The sight before you halted you instantly.
There was your husband, wrapped in wealth and impenetrable metal, leaning over Grogu’s tiny bassinet. He must have gotten fussy when Din opened the airlock, and Din had immediately taken care of it.
You’d have to thank him for that later.
He sat Grogu up, patting his back, and fed him small bites of maple bar. His favorite.
“That’s it buddy,” he whispered. “Swallow. There ya go.”
You stood and watched this encounter, soaking it in. It was moments like this that you missed the most when he was gone—moments so domiciliary and domesticated that they etched into your heart implicitly. These moments were so wrapped in rarity that you could not even daydream about them or yearn for them, because you didn’t even know they existed. Like watching a Mandalorian brush his teeth, or chop an onion, or change the sheets, or breathe at night. They were the memories you would recall when you were old and graying, unable to describe them in a way that did them justice.
You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, just watching and basking in the glow of it. Eventually Din laid Grogu down, tucking him in, and traced his face with his leather-bound glove.
“Goodnight buddy,” he whispered, and turned to you.
You looked up at him in all his sheathing, and smiled.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back. He smelled of metal and woods with a hint of gunpowder. In the nearly pitch black of the room his shoulders still appeared as broad as ever, his armor was caked in mud, and his weapons belt hung a noticeable amount lower than usual.
You took a moment to soak in the fact that you would look at him like this for the rest of your life.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, moving closer to you.
“You didn’t,” you replied, “your boots did.”
His chuckle underneath the modulator was nothing like it was out of it, but it was enough to bring you home.
“You know I like being up for you when you get back,” you said, looking up higher at him as he came closer and closer. The warmth of the blankets and increased blood flow were not the only things warming your insides now. “Let me be your docile, obedient wife for once.”
You could feel the smirk on his face. “Yes. Obedient and docile, perfect for you.”
He made it to you, wrapping his hands around your waist. Your hands laid on top of his cooled beskar chest and chills etched up your spine as you looked up at him with a smile.
He pressed his forehead firmly against your own. The smell of forest and frost on him engulfed you. “My wife is none of those things.”
You hummed. “No, she isn’t.”
He began slowly walking you backwards into the bedroom, as if you were swaying in a dance, and your hands crept up to his helmet.
“Why didn’t you wake me up when the kid was fussy? I could have taken care of him.”
His gloved hands trailed up your back and the exhaustion in his voice was present. “I missed him. Wanted to take care of him.”
You smiled and pressed a kiss to his visor, tasting a mix of ice and salt that burned your chapped lips. “Okay.”
The back of your knees hit the bed frame and you stopped, creeping your hands underneath Din’s helmet.
“If you take this thing off me I’m not going to be able to keep my mouth off you.”
He said it so nonchalantly, as if that was a normal thing to say, and the fatigue of his voice and body language liquified you even more. Your still drowsy state was not helping matters.
You felt euphoric, in a perfect state of conscious and unconscious, like you were still in a dream. It was paradise.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” you said, removing the sheets wrapped around you. You let them fall onto the bed before reaching back up for him, slowly rising the helmet off of his head. The familiar hiss coated your ears as it rose, and the chocolate eyes that were yours forever met your own.
He smiled in the dark, illuminated by the moon. He brought his mouth inches away from yours, breathing in your breaths. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you responded, and he kissed you.
Immediately, the taste and feel of him washing over you threatened to crumble you to the floor. Din hands on your waist were the only things keeping you upright.
He kept you standing like it was nothing.
He kissed you slowly and deeply, taking his sweet time tasting you again. Your hands worked their way up his body, tracing his beskar all the way up to his hair. Your tongue met his at the same moment your nails scratched his scalp, and he pulled away from you to groan.
“Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”
You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”
He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”
And you did.
Piece by piece, you disrobed the Mandalorian from his beskar down to complete nudity, watching his eyes open and close as he began to drift to sleep as he stood. A few times you had to lean him onto you to prevent him from falling, and he kissed around your pulse point every time. Whispering gibberish.
Finally you squatted down to remove his boots, and just like that, he was naked in front of you. His purple under-eyes stood out in the moonlight, as well as a new scar across his abdomen. Your irises coated in worry, reaching up to feel it, but he stopped you.
“Tomorrow,” he said, kissing you more passionately than he had all night. “Tomorrow.”
Then he disrobed you.
The rough skin on his hands tracing you lit you on fire, boiling you enough to keep you conscious. He was the slowest with your panties, pulling them down your thighs like an art form. You scratched your nails down his warm back, and that seemed to speed him up.
As soon as the fabric hit the floor Din lifted you into his arms, laying you down flat on the cot before crawling overtop of you.
“Din, you’re tired, I can—”
“No,” he said, burying his head in your neck. “Wanna be close to you.”
You couldn’t say no to that.
He took the sheets you had discarded and covered them over the two of you. You could see nothing else but him, and you were completely surrounded by the scent and warmth of his skin.
“Maker I missed you so badly,” he said before kissing you hard enough to make you whine. You pulled him as close to you as possible, tracing his body as he kissed and kissed and kissed you, memorizing your mouth. The passion and heat in you were rising, and with one trace down his haired chest with your nail, he pulled away. He traced his hands over your face, pushing your hair away to see you fully. You traced his face too, noticing his scruff had turned into a full beard.
You always liked that look on him.
“Y/N,” he whispered. “My Y/N.” He spoke as if you were unbelievable
“I’m right here,” you responded, holding his face in your hands.
“I just want to be inside of you,” he whispered, almost pathetically. “Can we just skip to that part?”
You smiled, laughing loudly, and kissed him quickly. “Yes.”
He huffed a laugh and kissed you again, nice and slow, like he had been the whole night.
He kissed you and felt you for so long that you didn’t know if he would make it. His movements slowed and slowed as he went on, touching you and tracing you so meticulously it was like he was painting you from nothing.
Finally, with a firm kiss to your jawline, he entered you tortuously. You exhaled in pure pleasure, and your body threatened to rapture already.
He was a dream come true.
Din halted when he was as deep as he could go and tucked his head into your neck. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur.”
You kissed the side of his head. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan.”
And that’s when he started to move.
As he moved in and out, in and out, in and out, dragging each thrust on and on to feel every inch of your folds. He felt all around you, re-memorizing you; how you skin felt, how your body had changed, and the exact rhythm of your heart.
Tears spilled from your eyes as he moved, and you moaned his name over and over, grateful for the return of it in your tongue.
“Keep—keep doing that, saying my name,” he said as he moved. “Almost forgot I had it.”
You repeated it over and over again, clenching around Din when he began to shake. He swirled his shaking fingers around your clit, and with one last clench, the both of you went.
The covers above your heads did little to hide the sound of your synchronization, and it was then that you really started to drift. Din was so warm inside you—filling you up completely—and his body had you trapped in a cave of sheets and serenity. You were perfectly satisfied with your husband safe and sound in your arms, and your body began to fail you.
You felt Din prop himself up and press kisses around your face and your mouth, and your lips tingled with the intensity of it all. He rubbed his nose against yours and pecked your lips before laying back on top of you, pulling the covers raised above his head off as he did. You were hit with fresh air, and were inches away from bliss before Din whispered one last thing in your ear.
“Goodnight, docile and obedient wife.”
You drifted off with a smile.
None of this was a dream. This was real.
Your riduur was home.
Mando’a Translations:
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur: I love you/ I will know you forever, my sweet wife.
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan: I love you/ I will know you forever, even through war.
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Summary: Your family is supposedly the most "perfect" one in town- but your family also hides a dark secret. That secret is that... you're dating your stepfather and your mother is dating your uncle. And you're only one who knows.
Warnings: Angst in Beginning. Fluff. SMUT! SMUT WARNING! unprotected sex. oral sex(f and m receiving). p in v sex. creampie. (Let me know if I missed any! please!)
A/N: eeeeeeee so excited! my second ever smut fic and my longest fic ever!
W/C: 3K WORDS WHAT?! get some tea or popcorn- it's a long one for me.
__
Your family was the most perfect in town. Or so it seemed. For your family also hides a dark secret.
Ever since your mother remarried, all you felt was lust for him, your new stepfather.
It was just all so wrong. You never meant for those feelings to exist. But they did. They were feelings you had never, ever, felt before.
You felt admiration, love, lust, longing. Almost every feeling that conveyed the message that you wanted him, you felt it.
It was a surprise to you that he felt the same. He confessed to you the day of the 1 year anniversary of your mother and him being married.
You felt guilty for his confession, even though it was not you who confessed.
Sure, you did convey your feelings by kissing him after his confession. But you weren't the one who confessed.
You started secretly dating, sneaking in romantic dates in your free time.
Your relationship with him was magical. He treated you better than he treated your mother.
And that was saying something.
Because he had bought her a whole ass Lamborghini, paid for all sorts of treats and goodies, did everything a good husband would do.
But the two of you had sex every now and then. You enjoyed it, and always were careful of anyone that could be listening or watching, and always, always, went somewhere private.
And when it is time for family photos, you tried not to touch each other so the pictures would come out okay.
He still had to touch you in some way, using his actuators to caress your waist. It probably wasn't enough for him, bit it was enough to turn you on, sending your mind spiraling.
"Smile!" The photographer spoke, snapping the last photo of your family. "You all look wonderful! Do you want to pay cash or card?"
"Card, please." Your stepfather spoke, continuing to caress your waist with an actuator.
"Honey, it's easier if we use cash." Your mother told him.
You cringed when she said this. Because she was hiding a secret too. A secret only you and her 'brother' knew. It was that her 'brother' was not actually her brother. He was her boyfriend. When no one was around to see, they would kiss and make love to eachother.
You thought it was gross at first, until you yourself had feelings for your stepfather.
"Come on, dear. Let me pay for these pictures."
You hid your cringe this time, and pretty well. At least he didnt call her his 'princess.'
But your stepfather noticed your unease. You locked eyes with him. His eyes had a longing in them, a longing to spend time with you instead of the family.
Your eyes reflected your stepfather's feelings.
It took all of your efforts and strength to keep yourself from running into his arms and kissing him.
He knew that you wanted to kiss him- he could tell by the way you moved your arms anxiously.
It was the longest you had gone without feeling his arms around you, without feeling his lips against yours. You longed for him to dominate over you in the bed as he had done so many times before.
You felt guilty for keeping your relationship with your stepfather a secret from your mother. She didnt love him as much as she did her boyfriend, but... still. They were married, both cheating and not knowing the other was as well.
But he loved you, and only you. It made you sick to think about your mother finding out.
You were snapped out of your love-sick daze by your stepfather placing his hands around you like a father would, to not make anyone suspicious.
You barely stopped yourself from moaning at his touch. You had missed it. You missed his warm yet shockingly cold hands on your waist. You needed to feel him. You needed to feel his large shaft burried inside of you.
"Hey, honey, is it alright if me and Y/N take a daddy-daughter day? I think she needs one." Your stepfather spoke to your mother, his actuators wrapping protectively around you.
She noticed your anxious movements and raised a brow. "But its 7 PM. What are you going to do at this time of day?"
"Watch a movie."
"Fine. But be careful." She nodded, her genuine concern leaving you feeling all the more guilty.
"Come on, princess."
You hid your blush by grinning. He had used the nickname he had given you from the first time the two of you had made out.
"Thanks, mom." You smiled again, trying to ease the growing tension that had bloomed between you and your stepfather due to the pure lust you felt for him.
Once you had left the area, you spoke again. "Daddy, which movie are we going to watch?"
"We aren't watching a movie, princess." He replied.
"So where are we going?
"I was thinking somewhere with a hot tub. Or a nice warm bed." He whispered. "Somewhere where we'll be alone. I know you want me."
"Oh, Otto, I do." You reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. "I want you so damn bad."
He was your stepfather. Yet you loved him in ways no one could. Sure, your mother had made love to him a few times, but that was forever ago.
He was yours now. You refused to accept that he was in love with your mother and you- there could only be one who pleasured him.
When you turned the corner to where you wouldn't be seen by anyone, he turned you around and pinned you to the wall with his actuators. His hands slid up and down you body, him kissing you with a burning passion. He bit your lip as he did so, then moved to leave a mark on your skin.
When there was at least five- you were NOT counting- he moved along your collarbone, up your neck and along your cheek to his final destination: your lips.
You moaned into the kiss, attempting to tug at his clothes.
Breaking the kiss, he spoke. "Not now, princess. We have to go somewhere private."
"But I want you now!" You whined.
"I want you too, princess. But we have to go somewhere private.
You pouted, but obeyed. "Fine."
You were silent in the car as Otto drove to a hotel, his large hand gripping your inner thigh. You refrained from moaning at his touch, his hand sliding up and down, inching ever closer to your core.
Closer to where you needed him.
He parked the car and got out, motioning for you to follow. You got out of the car as well and Otto headed inside the hotel, with you in tow.
The hostess seemed to recognize two of you as father and daughter of the "most perfect" family in town.
How wrong that stereotype was...
"How can I help the two of you?" She asked.
"We'd like to book a room for the night."
"Will it be just the two of you?" The hostess asked.
Otto nodded. "Mhm. Daddy daughter day." He replied, looking at you and winking.
You blushed.
"Okay, and would you like to book our presidential suite? Or one of our regular rooms?"
"What do you think, princess?" Otto looked at you.
You shrugged. "I dont mind either one." You said.
"We'll take the presidential."
"Alright, that'll be {price}." The hostess replied. She smiled, then gave your stepfather an acces card after he payed. "Should be down the hall, up the stairs, and at the end of the hall up there. Have a great day!"
"Thanks!" Otto replied, giving her his signature smile that had made you fall for him in the first place.
You followed the hostess's directions, arriving at your suite.
Otto unlocked the door using the card the hostess had given him. You followed him through the door, and closed it behind you, locking it.
You dropped your bags automatically and tugged your stepfather towards the bedroom part of the suite.
He laughed as you did this.
When you reached the bedroom, he closed the door behind the two of you and you sat on the bed, eagerly awaiting what was ahead of you.
You closed your eyes, and a moment later his actuators had you pinned to the king-size bedframe.
Your eyes fluttered open. You looked at Otto with pure lust evident in your eyes.
You nodded, and his lips crashed against yours.
His hands snaked around your waist, up the back of your shirt, and unclasped your bra. You tried to let it fall, but he seemed impatient. He pulled at it, pretty much tearing it off you.
Then his actuators pulled your shirt off, Otto breaking the kiss so the shirt could be thrown to the ground.
When he turned back to you, he immediately started plumping your breasts, kneading them with his hands.
"So tender, princess." He growled.
"Only for you, Otto..." you moaned.
"Call me daddy. Do it."
"Fuck me daddy- please!" You were breathless. His hands felt so good on your tits.
"Not yet, princess."
He stopped kneading your breasts and gripped your jaw, giving you a harsh peck to the cheek.
That's going to bruise. But you didnt care. It would be going to be bruised because of your lover, and that was fine. You loved him.
Then he gripped your waist, climbed on top of you, and started to roll his hips, grinding against your clothed center.
After a few minutes of heavy breathing and his hips grinding against yours, you decided you had enough. You needed to feel him inside you.
"Want you... in me... daddy..." you whined, panting. You could feel his shaft growing ever harder as he ground his hips to yours.
"Oh, fuck-" Suddenly there was no constant pleasure. Only faulty circles and wetness soaking through your pants. Otto had cum in his own fucking underwear.
You pushed against him, and he sat up, allowing you to sit up.
"Need to... taste you..." you were panting once more, shoulders heaving.
He climbed off of you, letting you climb off the bed.
He got off and stood, allowing you to take his wet jeans off halfway. You rolled his soaked boxers down, revealing his hard, glistening cock.
You immediately thrust your lips around the tip, giving sharp sucks and bites.
Otto rewarded you with hot bursts of cum, and you swallowed gratefully.
How wrong yet delightful this was.
You were getting what you needed, and yet it was so, so wrong. Your mother had a child with this man, had gotten fucked by the same cock you were sucking on.
But no matter how wrong it was, you didnt want to stop. You were in heaven, giving the man you loved one hell of a time.
"Hmph!" You gagged as he forced your mouth farther over his dick by tugging your hair towards his base.
"Oh... baby you feel so good..." Otto groaned. "That's it, keep sucking..." he ordered. "Harder!" He snarled.
You obeyed, giving his shaft one hard suck after another. And each time, you were rewarded.
Rewarded with a sharp tug to the hair, making you gag.
Rewarded with a hot burst of cum.
You slid your toungue over the bottom of Otto's cock, letting yourself find pleasure in licking each hardened vein.
He groaned as each stroke of your toungue made contact with his skin.
You released his dick from your mouth and whined: "She's begging for you, daddy. Please, I've been so good for you."
"Your right, princess. You've been such a good little slut for daddy." He was suddenly pinning you to the bed, his actuators removing his jeans and boxers with ease.
Then they moved to your own leggings and panties. Your panties were soaked, causing your leggings to be soaked.
"So wet for daddy, aren't we, little slut?" Otto's actuators removed your leggings, tearing them off.
Then Otto grinned, clearly having decided to try something new.
His actuators spread your legs apart as far as they could go, leaving only your dripping panties between Otto and your aching pussy.
Otto let his mouth glide over your inner thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
You tried bucking your hips, wanting him inside you already. But he was stronger. His actuators were just too powerful.
You were enjoying every moment of this. It was what you craved from him. It was in times like these where you didnt consider him your stepfather, but merely a lover sent from heaven to bring you ultimate pleasure.
He used his toungue to snake it's way up your inner thigh and twirl around the lace of your panties. Then he bit down on the lace, tearing it off your form.
You were now completely naked.
But you didnt mind. You craved the feel of his eyes on your naked form.
"Daddy..." you moaned. "Please..."
With your begging and the lust in his eyes, he positioned himself at your entrance.
"Heres to my precious little slut." With that, he plunged into you.
You bit your toungue to stop from screaming his name.
"Daddy- please- deeper-" you whispered, trying to refrain from being too loud.
"Go ahead. Scream my name. Let everyone know that it was I who fucked you. Let them know that you were bred by the infamous Dr. Octavius."
"Otto- Harder!" You moaned a little too loud for your liking, tossing your head back in pleasure as he thrusted harder and deeper into you.
He already came earlier, so it was your turn. You knew that now. You hadn't needed to say your "stop" word yet.
"Daddy- I want you to taste me." You blushed.
"As you wish, princess." He removed his penis from your aching cunt, positioning himself to where his nose rested against your clit and his toungue against your entrance.
"Please-" was all Otto needed to hear from you before he started lapping at your center.
"Oh... Otto..." you moaned, loud yet again.
He licked and licked at your dripping entrance, savoring your flavor.
"I- oh- oh fuck-" there went your climax. He just knew your body to well. You came all over his chin, his nose, the whole bottom half of his face, as he continued lapping at you. He worked you through your orgasm, licking in great big strokes of his toungue.
While he lapped at you, he had reclothed his core. Once you had reached the end of your orgasm, he left you panting on the bed.
He fetched you a new pair of panties and leggings out of your bag. He helped you put your bra back on, and replaced your shirt with one of his from his bag. He had torn the original shirt when he was getting it off of you.
You let him slide the shirt over your head, frowning slightly.
"What's the matter, princess?" He asked, pulling you into a large bear hug.
"What do you think Mom would say? If she found out, I mean?" You asked, genuinely curious, feeling guilty. "I feel guilty about dating behind her back." Then your voice was a whisper. "But then again, she is dating John."
He didn't hear your whispers.
"You know, I have been thinking of divorcing her. That way, I could have you all the time. We wouldn't have to worry about your mother finding out, then."
You perked up at the mention of a divorce. "You dont love her at all?"
"Nope. I only have eyes for you." Otto released you and smiled.
You returned his smile, grinning. "So what now?" You were bored.
But just then, your mother called, spooking you from your almost relaxed state.
"Hello?" You asked, answering the phone.
Otto entered the bathroom, probably to wash his face.
"Hey, is your stepfather there?" She spoke through the phone.
"Uhm- yeah, he's in the bathroom. Why?" You replied, your chest heaving, breathing heavily.
Your mother heard this. "Why are you breaking so hard?"
"You spooked me with the phone call, its nothing, really."
Otto exited the bathroom, winking at you and giving you a thumbs up.
"If you say so. Hey, when Otto gets out of the bathroom, can you hand the phone over to him?" Your mother's voice came from the phone.
"Oh, he just got out. Here he is." You winked at Otto and mouthed the words "its mom," handing the phone off.
"Hello?" He spoke, his voice sending chills down your spine. "Mhm. ... Yeah. ... I have to talk to you when we get back. ... Her anxiety was pretty high so we're going to stay the night here at the hotel. If that's okay. ... Of course. See you tomorrow. Love ya. ... Bye." He hung up.
"Does she suspect anything?" You asked, curious.
"Nope." He shook his head. "We're in the all clear, for now."
You didn't like the way he said the words "for now." It seemed like he thought she was suspected something.
You shrugged. "Oh, and, Otto, I really do enjoy our moments alone. I can be myself around you. You make me feel complete."
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