If you want to request a one-shot for a certain character, but would like to have control over a lot of the aspects of said one-shot that you wouldn't get through a request, try commissioning me!
self proclaimed multi-fandomed whore | student
requests: currently open!
some material is 18+. by reading this you agree that you are over 18 years old. minors DNI!
SUMMARY: as his padawan, anakin discovers your fling with his old master and cannot accept seeing you with someone else
NOTES: (part one??) based on a theory I had as to why Anakin was so set off when he saw obi wan with padme on mustafar.. it had me rotting in my room putting pieces together
WARNINGS: angst | love triangle trope
So stretched out huge in length, you were run ragged. Exhaustion heaved from your exhales and your arms began to shake from soreness. Each swift movement of your body became an instinct. As if your brain was manually hardwired, a form of technology that no human could ever consume. There was no time for anything else, besides focusing on the glowing blue sword that was inches from your face.
Here, this prison ordained you and wouldn’t allow you to leave until your trainings were complete. With hope to resolve, you debated to bow and sue for failure with a suppliant knee, and deify your young masters wishes— who from the weapon in his arm glowed like the growing empire.
“Again.” He demanded, his tone disguised something more lustful. The corners of his mouth turned upwards into a sinister smile. He wouldn’t end until you beat him. It was almost impossible to raise your arms above your waist, and the wheezing between your exhales became more prominent than before.
But your master— ANAKIN SKYWALKER was determined to create an apprentice as strong as he is.
There was an underlying reason why you were there and not shadowing another Jedi. And it was that, a haunting emotion that clouded his eyes whenever he studied you, burned you like sulphur unconsumed. A want and desire feared you. You had no idea what he was capable of, and it killed you to even imagine what he would do if you betrayed him.
“Don’t you think you’ve exhausted her enough?” That was an understatement, coming from a familiar melody that echoed from the threshold. The outranked Jedi stood, hands on his hips, his dominant hand caressing the strap on his holster. Prepared to wage a guile war for the sake of your wellbeing.
“This doesn’t concern you, OBI-WAN.” Your masters voiced roared, ringing in your ears with a sharp pain. The blue hue diminished from its base, groaning before shutting off completely. A sense of relief soared over you, dropping your weapon at the base of your feet.
“All things concern me when it’s related to this empires future.” Obi wan commented, snaking a comforting arm around your waist. You grew weak to his touch, leaning against him for support. “This is no way to train a padawan.”
“Who are you to lecture my mentoring? She has to be perfect.” Anakin began with a scoff, folding his arms against his clothed chest.
“Control your feelings, Anakin. They cloud your judgement.”
The defending male shot you a glance of reassurance, turning back to his old student with a hardened gaze.
Anakin’s eyes darkened, placing his light saber handle back into its designated place on his hips. “She’s dismissed.”
Obi-wan bowed his head in response, daunting an invoked emotion from the younger male. Something that questioned the meer standards set in place by the Jedi rules. Kenobi knew, you knew what the newly made master had in store. You knew during your teachings with him, he was undressing you with his eyes. Exploring every secret with his abused power to keep you from turning against him.
It was impossible to confide in anyone about your recent discoveries. They would banish you from the capital or worse, wouldn’t believe you.
But it wasn’t until you found comfort in Obi-wan the night before, intertwined in Naboo-silk sheets and a scent of ecstasy hung in the night air. You two lavished in each other, only an act you kept hidden. And as he kissed you slowly, exploring the parts of you hidden beneath the Jedi robes and cloth, you voiced your concerns about is previous student. His reassuring blue eyes and soothing voice ensured you that you’d be safe with him. You had nothing to worry about as long as you stuck to the males side. He comforted you in provocative ways, that crushing burden was swept away once more with seductive energy.
Everything up until that very moment, was leading to what may become. And to the dark energy that flowed from your masters aura became stronger and stronger at the sight of you with your companion. Anakin Skywalker knew everything.
Hypothetically -- 89k | reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.
friends to lovers, case-of-the-week style story
State of Grace -- 26k | While trying to find herself after college, Y/N moves in with her aunt in D.C for a while. Falling in love with the city, her aunt’s job and the cute co-worker she’s heard so much about
Redamancy -- 5.4k | The co-op librarian at the FBI Academy has been secretly crushing on the smartest agent in the Bureau, TA, Doctor Spencer Reid, and he’s been crushing on her too.
New Romantics -- 23k | She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet… they just so happen to be neighbours who aren’t afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Don't Let Me Go -- 6.4k | Reader comes home for her moms funeral and ends up falling for her dad’s co-worker
Red Alert -- 2.7K | For the 55th Anniversary of Star Trek (sep 8), the local bar is hosting a Pon Farr night…
Chip Taylor x Reader:
Forever is the Sweetest Con -- 6.2k | Reader’s dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get his daughter’s number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.
Spencer Reid stand-alone fic:
Found Family -- 3.4k | Henry’s best friend, Taylor, is struggling to take care of her mother’s schizophrenia, Spencer knows exactly how to help and it’s by getting her out of that environment while her mother gets help.
Halloween Fics:
Spencer Reid x reader:
Hallo-ween -- 4.1k | Reader has had a crush on him for the last 9 weeks of her semester, but on Halloween night she finally has the courage to walk up to him at the local bar and offer to go home with him
The Reidd Family -- 4k | For Spencer’s 40th birthday his wife and kids want to have a costume Halloween party
Raymond x Reader:
Alone Together -- 2.4k | Raymond moves into a haunted house and ends up sleeping with the ghost who lives there… only he doesn’t know that when you fuck a ghost you also become one.
Spector Spooktacular -- 1.6k | for their first anniversary, Raymond takes his girlfriend to a cemetery for a Halloween picnic… having dinner while giving the spirits a show
Franklin x Reader:
Trick or Treat -- 3.1k | Franklin and Reader are paired up for costume bowling as their costumes accidentally match. she’s a sexy cheerleader, and he’s a 70’s porn star… they spend most of the game teasing each other instead of trying to win
Chip Taylor x Reader
Rater R for Revenge -- 6.7k (murder tw) | Chip’s new neighbour doesn’t answer to her name… he remembers settling into a new town with a new name and no friends, so he helps her settle in. learning about her abusive husband, the reason she’s on the run and falling in love with her in the meantime. he loves her so much he can’t imagine someone ever hurting her and getting to live freely, so they plan to murder him.
Wes x Reader:
House Calls -- 2.5K | Wes asks his receptionist if she’s coming to the building’s Halloween party, letting it slip that he just wants to spend time with her outside of work.
Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.
Word Count: 8.2K
Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub
(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)
💜💜💜
Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.
The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.
Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn.
You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.
You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.
As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin.
You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”
Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring.
He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return.
An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time.
“That book any good?”
His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair.
“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already.
The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.
“What’s it about?”
Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”
The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face.
“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.”
That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest.
“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”
You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?”
Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.”
God, his voice is like brown sugar.
You tried again. “Forty, then.”
“Older.”
“No way.”
His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”
You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.”
He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”
“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”
He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”
You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”
“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.
You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’.
“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”
A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.”
That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.
You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits.
One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset.
“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence.
You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”
“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.”
You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink.
“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.”
You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”
Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met.
You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”
Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”
You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”
“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”
“It’s porn with a plot.”
“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”
You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”
“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”
Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away.
This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-
Uh oh.
You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him.
But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair?
You weren’t sure he would.
In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight.
That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you.
And you definitely wanted to fuck him.
So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer.
“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”
A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”
You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property.
You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries.
Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.
“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls.
“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.”
You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”
Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench.
You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”
You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you.
You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’
He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his.
Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.
“This is beer?”
Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.”
You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”
“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”
As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity.
Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.”
Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”
You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”
His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze.
Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks.
“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”
You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?”
Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.”
You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”
His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”
And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.
Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna.
Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn?
Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.
Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.
Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”
You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed.
Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.
You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”
You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”
You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”
Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”
You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”
Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath.
“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.
“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb.
You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-”
Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him.
You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence.
“-I know how boys like you think.”
The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…
You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”
Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?”
You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”
You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.
“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.
“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”
You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek.
“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”
Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips.
Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”
You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs.
“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”
“Look at me.”
Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”
You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”
That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.”
Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks.
As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”
You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”
“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”
You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”
He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”
He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.”
Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished.
He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat.
“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.”
Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had.
“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”
You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today.
You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?”
Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”
He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.
“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it.
You could play, too.
You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.
Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.”
You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly as your movements grew faster and more desperate.
Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.
“Daddy, I’m cumming!”
You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory.
“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”
You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”
You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”
His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?”
You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”
A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”
You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop.
“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”
You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”
He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”
Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”
“Good girl.”
The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask.
“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”
You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”
Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly.
“Oh yeah! I love that song!”
Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”
Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”
He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”
So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist.
“You wanna see something even cooler?”
Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up.
Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school.
You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…
You snorted.
“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?”
Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself.
He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor.
God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day.
You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name.
Which he did.
The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips.
When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead.
“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked.
You nodded, “I have an IUD.”
He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”
“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”
He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.
“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-”
He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”
He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom.
“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”
You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.”
Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”
You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.
Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”
“Yes!” you practically yelled it.
“Yes what?” He taunted.
“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air.
Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined.
Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”
You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”
“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”
“Yes!”
“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”
“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”
“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”
Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.
He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple.
“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied.
Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”
“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”
He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”
***
The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this:
Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.
Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day.
Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed.
Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out.
The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you.
You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him.
You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.
He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was.
You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.
Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to burst through your ribs like a caged animal.
Every muscle in your body tenses up, as you watch Mando turn around to face the door you're hiding behind.
You hold your breath, trying to control the ragged gasps that threaten to give away your position.
You want to silently retreat back into the chamber.
You really do.
But you're frozen, unable to move.
The silence is shattered by Mando's sudden, menacing voice, booming through the ship with a force that sends shivers down your spine.
"Enter," he commands, his voice cold and unyielding through the modulator of his helmet.
The sound echoes through your head, causing your heart to race even faster as you realize he is aware of your presence.
Your body petrified in place as fear grips you tightly, your thoughts racing as you wonder how long he's known about your voyeuristic indulgence.
Every inch of your being wants to run away and hide, to avoid any possible retribution from the Mandalorian for your indiscretion.
The uncertainty of his reaction leaves you paralyzed, unsure of what to expect next.
Finally, you approach him.
Your legs feel heavy and your breaths are shallow. With a tight chest, you try to stay calm and steady, but the sweat under your beskar and the dryness in your throat betray your nervousness.
You take one step at a time, each footfall echoing loudly in the metal chamber.
As you walk, Mando stands like a monolithic statue, his presence commanding respect and fear.
His broad shoulders fill the room, and his helmet gleams in the low light, its polished surface reflecting your image back to you.
As he glances over, his visor gives nothing away, but you can feel his gaze piercing through you like a laser.
Then, with a swift turn, he moves towards the pilot's chair, his form flowing with an almost predatory grace.
The material creaks under his weight as he takes his seat, and you can hear the soft hiss of air as he activates some controls.
Your heart races in your chest, pounding so loud you're certain Mando can hear it. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice catches in your throat.
You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The filtration system of your helmet seems to have given up completely.
Mando's body is rigid, as if he's on edge, and you can't help but wonder if he senses your fear and embarrassment.
Every muscle in your body tense, as you wait for his response, your mind racing with all the things he could say or do.
Then, the Mandalorian's voice rips through the dense air like a Nexu devouring it's prey.
"We have a bounty to deliver," he states, his tone even and controlled, giving away nothing of his inner thoughts or feelings.
Relieved that he doesn't mention the obvious, you offer a small nod in response before taking a seat beside him.
You sink into the co-pilot seat, feeling the cold metal against the back of your legs.
Your mind is absolutely blank, still reeling from the embarrassment and fear of Mando knowing that you shamelessly watched him in the midst of his most intimate moment.
You try to avoid eye contact, instead focusing your gaze on the swirling colors of hyperspace outside the cockpit window.
The stars blur together in a mesmerizing swirl of blues and purples, a peaceful image that is in stark contrast to the roiling emotions inside your mind.
The hum of the ship's engines continues, a steady and reassuring sound that provides a small measure of comfort in the midst of your anxiety.
You can hear the occasional beep and chirp of the ship's systems, a reminder that you are hurtling through space at unimaginable speeds.
Every so often, you steal a glance at Mando out of the corner of your visor, trying to gauge his mood.
He remains silent and focused on his controls, his hands moving deftly across the buttons and levers as he pilots the ship through the treacherous currents of hyperspace.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to find a position that doesn't leave you so exposed and vulnerable.
As the minutes tick by, you begin to feel a sense of unease settle over you.
You wonder if Mando will confront you about what he saw, or if he will simply continue on as if nothing happened.
The uncertainty gnaws at you, making it impossible to relax and enjoy the journey through the starfield.
The hum of the Crest's engines continues to fill the cockpit as you stare blankly out into the endless expanse of hyperspace.
You try to calm your racing thoughts, but they keep spiraling back to the embarrassing incident that just happened.
Suddenly, Mando breaks the silence again, his voice so neutral it drives you wild, unable to decipher his feelings.
"How old, when you joined your clan?" he asks, as if he were inquiring about the weather.
You can feel your anger rising, frustrated with his sudden interest in small talk while you sit there drowning in your shame and anxiety.
You consider ignoring his question altogether or even pretending not to have heard him. But you know that would only make things worse.
Maybe you should just hold your breath until you suffocate.
Finally, you answer with a sharp tone, "I was born into it."
You can hear the bitterness in your voice enhanced by the modulator of your helmet, your words laced with resentment at his sudden interest in your person, when all you want is to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.
Mando only replies with a low hum, his focus back on the ship's controls.
You can feel the weight of the silence returning, and you quietly curse yourself for your sharp tone, wondering if he knows how embarrassed and ashamed you feel or if he even cares.
You steal another glance at him out of the corner of your visor, but his stiff posture hides any emotion he may be feeling.
Before you can fully refocus on the starfield outside, Mando's rich voice cuts through the hum of the engines once more.
"I was a foundling," he says, his tone quiet and contemplative.
For the first time since you met him, you feel a small glimmer of understanding towards him.
The Mandalorian code is strict and unwavering, and hearing about his past as a foundling adds a layer of depth to his character that you never knew existed.
You're not sure why he chose to tell you this now, but you're grateful for any scrap of information he's willing to share about himself.
His voice lingers in the air for a moment, and you take a breath before responding.
"Like him?" you ask, gesturing towards the crate containing Grogu.
Mando nods once, his helmet not betraying any emotion as usual.
"Yes," he says simply.
The following hour of travel is excruciatingly silent, the heavy weight of awkwardness and tension suffocating you like a vice.
Every second feels like an eternity as you try to focus on anything but the deafening stillness.
After the Razor Crest exits hyperspace, the destinationcomes into view: Tattooine.
Its harsh desert landscape stretches as far as the eye can see, with sand dunes that seem to go on forever.
The sun beats down mercilessly on the surface, casting an orange-red hue across the entire planet.
Mando expertly pilots the ship towards the spaceport of Mos Eisley.
The town is a mix of old and new, with ancient buildings made of stone and metal intermixed with more modern structures.
As the ship descends towards the ground, Mando skillfully maneuvers the vessel, avoiding collisions with other vehicles.
The landing itself is a work of art. The pilot smoothly brings the ship down onto the landing pad, the thrusters kicking up a cloud of sand as they slow to a stop.
The Crest settles with a gentle thud, and the engines wind down to a low hum.
You can hear the sound of the lawless city, with ships taking off and landing, droids beeping, and vendors calling out to potential customers.
The heat from the outside seeps through the ship's hull, making the air inside feel even warmer.
Mando's unyielding gaze bores into you through the T-shaped visor, making you feel as if he's looking straight through you.
"What are you waiting for," he says, before getting up from the pilot's chair and making his way towards the hull.
Before Mando is able to fully exit the cockpit, you hastily call out to him, "And the child?"
His response is quick and concise, "Won't take long."
You take a moment to stretch before following him towards the carbon freezer chambers in the belly of the ship.
Taking place besides Mando, you stand in front of the target person you two locked in earlier, his scarred face now with a crooked nose thanks to your punch.
He looks eerie in his carbon-frozen state, petrified mid-motion like a grotesque statue.
You'll never get used to that.
Mando punches in the sequence to release the carbonite and the chamber begins to hiss as the frozen gas evaporates.
With a loud clunk, the man falls to the ground, still confined by the binders you used to apprehend him.
Mando wastes no time in roughly handling the target person, dragging him towards the ramp without a word.
It feels like an eternity has passed since you left your ship to look for this man, but realistically it has only been about 7 or 8 hours.
Your mind is a jumbled mess, unable to recall your life before you met the other Mandalorian and the strange child.
Before you lost your beloved Harbinger.
It feels like you've lost a part of yourself. Your identity as a respected Mandalorian bounty hunter shattered and unfamiliar.
Mando effortlessly hoists the unconscious man over his shoulder and turns to you.
"Are you going to just stand there, or do you plan on carbonizing yourself too?" he quips with a hint of amusement in his modulated voice.
You chuckle at his unexpected humor and reply with a grin, "I'll pass on the carbon freezing today, thanks."
Mando nods before stepping onto the sandy ground below the ramp, with you following closely behind, feeling relieved to have a moment of levity in the midst of all the chaos.
As you step off the Razor Crest and onto the bustling streets of Mos Eisley, the heat hits you like a sledgehammer.
The sun beats down on your beskar helmet, turning it into a miniature oven.
You can feel sweat beginning to trickle down your back and under your armor.
Fortunately, you had the foresight to invest a significant portion of your hard-earned credits from a previous mission into a high-quality air conditioning system for your helmet.
You reach up to your gauntlet and push a few buttons, feeling the cool air flowing through the vents inside your helmet.
It's not perfect, but it's enough to make the temperature bearable.
As you continue down the street, you take in the sights and sounds of the bustling marketplace.
Despite the temperature, the inhabitants of Mos Eisley seem to be going about their business as usual.
You can't help but wonder what sort of people they are, and what sort of lives they lead.
But you don't have time to think about that right now.
You have a job to do, and a target to deliver.
The surrounding people stare at you both in awe and fear.
The sight of two Mandalorian hunters is a rare occurrence in these parts, and the unconscious body slung over Mando's shoulder only adds to the spectacle.
Some creatures quickly move out of your way, fear etched on their faces, while others stop in their tracks, gawking at you with wide eyes.
You can see their lips moving, whispering to each other, but you can't make out what they're saying over the hum of the city.
The building you're looking for is a dingy, run-down cantina nestled between a pair of dilapidated shops.
The door creaks loudly as Mando pushes it open, and the stench of stale booze and smoke seeps through your filtration system.
The interior of the cantina is dimly lit, and the air is thick with the smell of alcohol and unwashed bodies.
You can see the client sitting at a table in the back, his face obscured by the shadows.
As you approach, Mando's height and imposing presence seems to part the crowd like a ship through water.
People move out of his way without a word, and you follow in his wake, grateful for the buffer of his broad shoulders.
The pair of you reaches the table where the client is sitting.
You notice the old Gran's beady eyes widen with surprise at the sight of not just one, but two Mandalorians approaching him.
He straightens up in his chair, his wrinkled skin stretching as he shifts his weight uncomfortably.
The Gran is dressed in a garish outfit, with a gaudy piece of jewelry around his neck and a hood perched precariously on his head.
He looks more like a stereotypical space pirate than a respectable businessman.
As Mando hoists the unconscious target onto the table, the Gran recoils slightly, his eyes darting between you two Mandalorians.
He stammers out a few noises, his voice trembling with fear.
"You...you both did well. Very well. The payment is yours, as promised," the Gran stutters, his eyes flickering nervously between you two.
You can't help but feel a twinge of disgust as you look at the Gran, with his sleazy demeanor and questionable business practices.
However, you keep your posture neutral as Mando sits down at the client's table, gesturing for you to sit next of him.
You settle into the seat, keeping your focus on the Gran.
The target's body lies between the three of you like a ragged washcloth with shallow breaths.
The Gran begins rambling, stuttering gibberish as he obviously didn't expect two Mandalorians to bring in the bounty.
You watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the credit chips, placing them on the table and sliding them towards Mando.
The Mandalorian begins straightening up, menacingly, and his gloved fist hits the top of the table.
"How many pucks did you hand out?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
The Gran looks even more nervous as he stammers, "A-a few. I-I needed to make sure the job gets d-d-done."
Mando's fist clenches on the table, his voice even lower as he demands, "Why'd you offer her 10% more payment for the same job?"
He points at you, his visor trained on the Gran's face.
The client tries to come up with a good reason, but he can only spit out the truth, "B-B-Because she scares me."
You suppress a chuckle at the admission, and jump in, "Now you've got two Mandalorians on your wrinkly shebs. Surely enough for you to up it even more."
You lock your visor on the Gran, daring him to deny your request.
The Gran sighs heavily, but ultimately complies, offering more credits with a shaky hand.
Mando quickly grabs the money and nods towards you.
Suddenly, you can feel heat rising in your face as Mando's thigh ever so gently brushes against yours under the table, bringing all the steamy thoughts back to the forefront of your mind.
However, the moment is quickly interrupted as Mando stands up and gestures for you to follow him out of the cantina.
You rise from your seat and follow him out, back onto the dusty streets of Mos Eisley.
The sound of the credits jangling in Mando's gloved palm accompanies the memory of his touch still lingering on your thigh.
While you follow him back to the Crest, you mentally calculate your share of the payment, taking into account the extra credits that you managed to negotiate from the hesitant Gran.
It would be a good sum, enough to last you for a while, but the thought of returning to a solitary life as a bounty hunter weighs heavily on your mind.
The realization that, once he hands you over the credits, this adventure with Mando and the child is coming to an end hits you like a ton of bricks.
You got strangely accustomed to having him around, not to mention the little green creature that had captured your heart.
But now, as the mission is completed, you will have to return to your solitary existence once again.
Mando breaks the tension by gesturing for you to wait below the ramp of the vessel.
You watch as he disappears into the ship, out of your view, wondering what he might be doing.
As you wait, a sense of emptiness settles in your chest.
The thought of parting ways with the fellow bounty hunter and his cute youngling is way more difficult than you anticipated.
But then you hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and you look up to see Mando descending the ramp once again.
He hands you your share of the credits and some portions, and for a moment, you are both silent.
You take the items from him, feeling the weight of them in your hand.
"Thank you," you say, breaking the silence. "For everything."
Mando nods in acknowledgement, but he doesn't say anything.
He doesn't have to.
You take a step back, giving him some space. You don't want to overstay your welcome or make the moment more awkward than it already is.
"Ret'urcye mhi!" you say, before turning on your heel, ready to walk away.
But then, something forcefully tugs at your body.
Confused, you turn your head back and you cannot believe your eyes.
You can see the small child standing halfway between you and the ramp, his tiny hand extended and a heart-wrenching expression starting to build.
Grogu's big, dark eyes are filled with tears, visible sadness, reluctant to let you go.
As he starts to sob, you feel a pang of guilt and regret that you have to leave him behind.
You kneel down and hold out your arms, beckoning him to come to you.
Slowly, the child starts to run towards you, his little feet pattering on the ground.
You pick Grogu up and hold him against your chest plate, feeling the warmth of his body through the armor.
The child sobs and trembles, his small hands clutching at your chest. You can feel his heartbeat, and it's as if he's trying to communicate something to you, something urgent and important.
You hold him tighter, feeling a bond that you never thought you could form. But then, your gaze goes back to the Razor Ship, and you realize that you have to let him go.
It's not your place to take him away from his guardian.
The Mandalorian appears in the entrance hatch, watching you try to soothe the crying bundle.
You stand up, holding Grogu in your arms, and slowly walk towards the bounty hunter.
"Take care of him," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "He's special."
"No," Mando's voice is buttery soft beneath the modulated distortion, "he wants you to stay with us. And so do I."
PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen!fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen
WORDS: 2,356.
SUMMARY: After years that felt like eternity, Rhaenyra pleads for her elder sister, Daella II to return, as King Viserys’ health continues to deteriorate. Talks of the succession to the Iron Throne are in question, and other matters concerning love and duty…
WARNINGS: disownment, swearing.
A/N - I did NOT think I was ever going to start a series, but here we are. I really hope you guys enjoy this little snippet and the chapters to come. It’s been like the main fantasy playing out in my head since the show ended. I really hope this isn’t a fail, I still try to finish my series even if its not a fan favourite, but we’ll see. Really hope you guys are excited for this!!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS GOOD OR SHIT!
The House of the Dragon was unworldly, a house unlike any other, created from the dark magic of fire and blood, the only thing that could tear the House of the Dragon down was itself…
Princess Daella II Targaryen, the eldest daughter of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, sister to the Realm’s Delight, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, had abdicated her birthright as the ‘rightful’ heir to the Iron Throne. Many men of the realm, old and foolish, did not argue in her decision, for ‘how could a woman ever dictate the fate of the realm’. Others defeated against her cause to abdicate, woefully accepted the princess’ decision. Ultimately in the end, Daella had decided in accordance to herself.
Her father, King Viserys, enraged by her sudden decision, found it inexcusable, all these outbursts and confrontations, for the sake of love…
you pouted and continued to kiss on jakes neck, leaving dark blue and purple kiss marks on his stripped skin.
"you're always so busy, ma jake," you whined. "..we never get time to ourselves."
jake clicked his tongue, glancing over at you with a scoff, "we get plenty of time to ourselves, baby. it's just under the wrong circumstances because the kids are never in the village— and when they're not here they're doing shit they shouldn't be."
you caressed his shoulders and nipped at his ear while he sharpened his knife for a later hunt.
"you used to be such a animal when were young," you whispered as you laid a kiss on the crown of his pointy ear. ".. 'used to leave me crying, begging for more— that is how we ended up with so many children."
you gave jake's shoulders one last rub before you stood up— you weren't going to pester him. you understood he had responsibilites as olo'teykan just as you had your own responsibilites.
"used to?" he murmured— his voice was quite harsh, but it sounded more of disbelief.
you tilted your head to side, not hearing what he had said.
jake set his knife of the ground and slowly stood up, his eyebrows furrowed as he turned around to face you.
"so you're sayin'... i don't fuck you like that anymore?"
your fangs sunk into your bottom lip as he walked towards you— his golden eyes sharp and his strong jaw clenched.
"jake.." you mumbled breathlessly. your eyes flickering between him and the open entrance to your hut. anyone could walk by and see.
his large hand gripped your jaw— forcing your cheeks together as he made you stare right at him.
"i don't make you feel good anymore?"
you placed your hands on his chest, feeling up his broad pecs.
"no no no you make me feel good," you hummed. "you make me feel so good.. I just—"
jake released your face from his grip and a grin spread across his lips, "I get it now.."
you looked him up and down, even though you both were so tall he seemed to tower over you, "you do?"
he nodded and said simply, "my pretty thing just wants to get fucked like a whore again."
you felt your cheeks grow warm at the vulgerness of his words. a whore. back when you were young, jake explained the meaning to you after letting it slip.
he swiftly cupped your ass which made you whimper before he set you flat on his table. it was covered in radios, monitors, maps— shit he made sure the kids never touched. yet right now, he didn't care that they were being knocked to the floor by your whoosing tail.
"spread your legs," jake pressed his forehead against yours, staring deep into your eyes— waiting until you did what was told. "don't be like that— you like don't being called a whore, babygirl?"
you looked away, licking your lips.
"it's okay," he kissed your forehead, his rough palms massaging your thighs. "just spread your legs for me.. I guess I won't call you that anymore."
"no.. no ma jake," you let your legs spread and held his face. he chuckled at your desperation to be degraded by him— most would beg for praise. "I want you to use me— like you used to. pretend that right now we're not husband and wife, we are not mates— just here to feel good." you explained quickly— ashamed at how badly you wanted him to revert from his husband like ways back to teen who would fuck you anywhere that he could. leave you shaking and gasping for air— that had you clinging onto anything for stability because his thrusts were so powerful.
"now what do you say?"
you begged, "please.."
he grinned and shoved his pelvis in between your spread legs, pressing his thin lips against your plump ones. you gasped as his teeth tugged on your swollen bottom lip— hot tongue finding your own as you tugged on his locs.
jake groaned as he rolled his hips against you— his covered erection rubbed roughly against your clothed cunt.
"jake," you rasped, your cunt drooling at the intense friction. "oh my— oh great mother—"
he pulled back, still humping you while you let you head fall back between your shoulders.
"holy shit you're drenched, baby." he chuckled, feeling your slick seep into his own loincloth.
you felt embarassed at the sound of your sticky loincloth being rutted against— it made you slightly ashamed that you were so wet so easily— that your slick was escaping onto your inner thighs.
"take it off," you pleaded, jake's buldge pressing right up against your avoided clit. "oh fuck—"
jake covered your mouth and squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed his large buldge over your clit again. you moaned into his palm, clawing at his scalp while he let out a sigh.
"feels good huh," he grunted, your muffled whines caused his ears to twitch upwards. ".. I don't about you but i'm lovin' this, pretty girl."
"jwake..jwake plwease.." your attention focused on his hand, clawing at it while you moaned.
"one sec," he kissed your nose. "don't you dare cum either."
jake huffed, "listen to that," he rubbed himself against you slowly— not making a sound. your legs trembled at how agonizingly slow he was going. and the only thing that could be heard was the wet squelch your pussy made. ".. so damn wet 'nd I haven't even stripped you yet, baby. you really are a whore."
jake pulled his hand away and you gasped— lips wet and shimmering with spit. heavy pants left your mouth as he backed away his buldge. jake then gripped the waistband of your loin-cloth and pulled it down until you were able to kick it off onto the floor.
"ma jake, I need you.." you whimpered, bucking your hips toward him.
"i know, babygirl," he rubbed his long fingers over your slit, gathering your slick while he admired your glistening cunt. ".. I know ya do."
he kissed your temple and spread apart your folds before he sunk two fingers into your cunt. you sucked him in easy, but clenched tightly around them.
"jake," you whined, legs locked around his mid-back so that the harsh thrusts of his fingers could reach deeper. "ma jake— fuck! j— jake.."
"shh," he murmured, his thumb working your clit while his two fingers curled and stroked your warm insides. your arousal gushing out onto his hand while you reached for his broad shoulders— deperate for stability. "relax, pretty thing— relax."
your eyes widdened as his fingertips curled and pressed firmly against that gummy spot in your walls. a string of moans fell from your swollen lips as jake attacked your g-spot with a semi-unreadable expression. 'semi' because you could see how much lust was growing inside of him just be looking into his eyes— eyelids hooded but his pupils dialated.
"..m—more! please.. 'need more." your eyelashes fluttered, teardrops rolling down your hot cheeks.
"you want another finger, baby?"
you nodded quickly, "please ma jake." his fangs tugged on his bottom lip at how eager you were.
jake pulled his two fingers out and pushed back in with a third. your pussy twitched at the feeling, your jaw hanging as a loud moan left you. jake glared up at you, not slowing his pace one bit which already had your legs shaking.
"they're gonna hear you." he cooed.
you stared up at the ceiling of the hut, a slight grin forming at the corners of your open mouth.
"feels s'good," you sobbed. "i don't care— don't care.. just lemme cum, ma jake— gotta cum.. don't care!"
his eyebrows rose at your words and his cock was so hard in the restraints of his loincloth that it was beginning to become painful.
so this is what you meant.
now he truly understood your want for him to fuck you like he used to. no lovey dovey shit because, fuck, he missed when you acted like this. to him you still looked like the eighteen year old he met all those years ago even though you disagreed at times— but now when you made that face, said those things, all he could see was that version yourself— that you both left behind when more and more kids started coming around.
he chuckled, "my perfect lil whore," his lips sloppily kissed, sucked, and nibbled at your neck. "you're mine, baby— you and this messy lil cunt."
his fingers were knuckle deep and every thrust felt so fast that everytime they sunk back inside, it felt like his palm was slapping your cunt, which was now stinging and sore.
"m'gonna cum.. please let me cum.." you cried out and dug your nails into his his skin, chest heaving rapidly.
"say it." he groaned, gulping at your now bright and bruised pussy.
"jake please.." you whimpered, thigh muscles tensing as your orgasm built up deep in your abdomen.
"thats not it," his movements growing harsher. "fucking say it."
your eyes flickered back in your head as you whimpered, "m'yours, ma jake!"
"and?"
"me.. an— and my cunt are yours forever— only yours.." you sniffled.
"that's right," he pressed his forehead against your once again and you wrapped your arms around his neck. "go on, cum on my fingers babygirl."
your toes curled and stomach churned as you the thin thread that was holding your composure together snapped— a silent scream was all you could muster as you gushed around his fingers, a stream of your release splashing against your lower stomach, jake's forearm, and his stomach.
"look at you," jake hummed, his eyes wide at the sight while your mind faught between embarassment and pleasure. "such a pretty sight— should've been recording."
you gasped and hit his chest as he pulled out his soaked fingers.
".. w— we," you could barely form a sentence. "do not record such.. such intimate things on that— that—"
"— the camera?" he finished with a chuckle.
"yes.. the camera," you mumbled with a pout. "that is a sky-people thing."
"I know.. I know I'm just teasing," he sucked on his wet fingers and hummed pleasantly. your cheeks grew warm at the sight. "fuck, I wouldn't want to risk other guys seeing you like that— only I can see you in that way." jake muttered, his eyes focused on your lips.
".. fuck, I guess i'm going with pussy." jake shook his head and slid down his loincloth, letting his thick cock finally be free. the mushroom tip was fading from blue to a cotton-candy pink as pre-cum dripped from the slit. a vien ran down the left side and splotches of starry freckles covered the base.
"hm?" you questioned, dragging your finger-tips down his hardened cock as he leaned over you.
"I was deciding whether I was going to fuck your face," he kissed your lips softly. "or fuck your pussy— pussy won."
jake rubbed his cock over your slit, trying to coat it in your wettness.
"ma jake.." you whispered breathless.
he paused, staring deeply into your eyes.
"get up," he ordered. "get up and bend over the table."
you frowned at jake and he took a step back, (your legs falling back to the floor) giving you room to do what he asked. you reluctantly scooted off of the table and jake rolled his eyes, picking you up and flipping you over himself.
he pressed his hand into your back, forcing your stomach onto the table and your back into an arch.
your tail whipped around, expressing your excitement or nervousness— you didn't know anymore.
jake tugged on it playfully and you squealed— whipping your head back to look at him. he let it go, now holding his dick and rubbing the tip over your slit. you bit down on your bottom lip and grinded yourself against him, trying to gain friction.
"don't," he tugged at your tail again then guided his fat cock into your weeping cunt. "..'you pull shit like that and I'll stop." he grunted.
you hid your face in the table and moaned, clawing at the wood as his cock sunk deeper and deeper inside of you until the slight upward curve allowed his tip to press firmly against your g-spot. your ears perked up at jake's breathy pants as his hands carressed your ass before they dug into your hips.
"oh fuck," jake mumbled, inhaling a sharp breath as he pulled back slowly before slamming back inside of your puffy pussy— earning a sob. ".. you really are wet, babygirl. warm 'nd wet.."
you whimpered as jake's nails peirced your skin, his cock drilled into you repeatedly. your legs were already weak from earlier and right now they felt even weaker with is cock splitting your cunt in two. you had taken jakes dick plenty (obviously), but you could never get used to his size, so he would usually let you adjust— but not now. now he was just fucking you— fucking you to get himself off.
you whined, "j— jake I can't—"
"yes you can," one hand left your hips and gripped your hair, avoiding your queue and yanking your head back. "you wanted it, you take it."
"ma jake!" you let your jaw hang agape, whimpers and moans spilling out constantly. "so big.. s'big," you hiccuped on cries and jake leaned down— his cock to kissing your cervix with each hard and calculated thrust. his heavy balls slapped against your wet pussy and gave your clit just a tease of stimulation. "oh great mother.. o—oh great mother! jake please!"
your cunt was squeezing him tight. every time he he pulled back it was like you didn't want to let him go.. and jake liked that. you could cry all you want, but that alone told him you were alright— just babbling on words.
"please what?"
you tried to get the words to come out— to even think properly about what you wanted to say. your mind was growing foggy, the only thoughts being pleasure and jakes dick bruising your insides.
you gasped, "tsaheylu! please.. 'need it so bad, ma jake.."
jake left open mouth kisses on your neck, still gripping your hair tightly. "what happened to we aren't mates right now?" he chuckled.
you sniffled, "w—wanna," you whimpered while jake sunk his fangs into your shoulder. "wan—"
he murmured, "come on, spit it out, baby." he peppered soft kisses over his bite mark.
"wanna feel you.. feel good." you finished, looking back at jake with a set of eyes and a pout that he couldn't refuse.
"alright." jake huffed and he let go of your hair to pull his braid from over his shoulder (his pace not letting up one bit while fucking you). you shakily lifted yours and he brought his closer, allowing your queues to intertwine.
both of your pupils dialated immensely, a long moan leaving your lips as your cunt squeezed around jake even tighter. you could feel how good he felt down to every pleasurable jolt in his nerves.
jake thrusts slowly became more rapid but also very sloppy— he was panting heavily, gulping every few minutes.
"damn.. d— damn," jake let one arm rest on the table hold himself up while the other left your hip and slid under you to play with your breasts. his entire body covered you while he rutted messily into you, your slick now wetting his thighs. ".. holy fuck, baby— I make you feel this good, huh?"
you nodded quickly and licked your lips at the tight knot that was forming in your belly.
"jaaake, more please," you sobbed, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. "m'gonna cum— it feels s'good."
"yeah? if I let you cum right now, you let me cum inside? let me give you another brat," he kissed your cheek. "i don't like three— lets make it four, baby.."
"want it inside," you cried out, squirming in his hold as your orgasm approached. "want another one, ma jake."
"I know, I know," he grunted, breathy moans leaving his lips. "I can feel it— 'just wanted to ask."
you bit down on your bottom lip— at this point it was so swollen that it hurt when whimpers tried to escape, that tight knot unraveling once the tip of jakes cock pressed firm against your cervix. your eyes squeezed shut as you creamed around his dick, his name seeping from your lips.
jake groaned, cock twitching at the feeling of the pleasure of your orgasm flowing through him.
he hid his face in your neck, whimpering, "oh fuck.. oh fuck.. oh fuuck.."
jake pressed his body as close to yours as he could before he painted your gummy walls white with his thick cum. you moaned at the feeling his own pleasure consuming you both, and the feeling of jake rutting inside you until he was sure he had nothing left to give you.
"ma jake," you panted. "..are you alright?"
he slowly lifted his head from your neck and kissed your temple. "never better." he answered, out of breath.
"you happy now," jake pulled out and turned you on your back, his cum leaking out from your puffy cunt and onto his table. ".. 'can't believe you said I used to fuck you like that.. hah, I can fuck you however I want. I just choose to make-love to you now," he kissed away your tears before finding your lips. "because your my mate.."
you smiled up at jake and cupped his cheek, "y'know.. you used to fuck me over and over again— until I passed out."
jake clicked his tongue, ".. if you want to get manhandled just say it— you don't have to make me angry, babygirl."
you traced your hands down jakes chest and pouted, "..but you fuck me harder when your angry, ma jake."
jake stared at you, and you could feel something stiff rub against your thigh— his lips curling into a eager grin that reminded you so much of his younger self.
"then let's get it done."
- I can't believe I'm almost at 400 followers.. thank you all so much!!! -
Two Mandalorians have found each other in this galaxy, from different clans but the same beliefs. Both never had taken off their helmets to show anyone. Eventually it turned into the both of them to just do all bounties together. One day at a time it brought them closer together however, once a little green child came in. It brought both of them closer together.
A/N: This idea was brought up to a post I saw by @nobeepnochill14. I thought it was a brilliant idea and thought to give it a shot! It will go chapter by chapter, so stay tuned and if you all have suggestions let me know. 🫶🏻 It will take place a couple or more months before finding Grogu then it will intertwine into the storyline of the series.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: The Phantoms
Chapter Two: Doctor of the Zillo Beast
the fool who thought he could kill his wife - aemond targaryen.
Pairing/s: Aemond Targaryen x Reader; Aegon Targaryen x Reader (slight).
Warnings: cheating. mentions of character death & murder.
Summary: based on this request but, I took it one step further as usual lol
Word Count: 1774.
A/N: This is my first time writing in this style - I quite like it. The final line is one of my absolute favourites from the movie 'Troy'. I wasn't going to write this request but, it got stuck in my head.
You didn’t notice until it was too late.
Too caught up in the midst of war to notice that slowly, slowly, your dear husband Aemond’s affections toward you began to wane.
You had chalked it all up to changes caused by the war.
The shorter trips at home in turn for longer trips around the Realm.
His avoidance of you when he was home.
The lack of intimacy.
The change in his scent.
The constant arguments.
Then came the attempt on your life and when you told, Aemond… he did not even show the tiniest bit of emotion toward you.
Neither seeking to comfort you or pursue the one who attempted to murder you.
It was then that you knew that these were not changes caused by the war at all but, it was easier to believe that they were when you had no proof.
Until supper one night, when Aegon's drunken stupor finally opened the door to answers you were looking for.
“Aemond has been gone for some time,” Alicent worried aloud, turning toward you. “Have you heard word from him, my dear?”
“I am afraid not,” you shake your head, eyes downcast in false despair.
Truthfully, you could care less of Aemond’s whereabouts or if he had sent word to you or not.
Alicent however, places an anxious hand to her neck and, swallows thickly so, you continue with your performance and place a comforting hand over her other one.
“But he is in the Stormlands after all, my Queen. You know how the weather does not bode well for the ravens.”
“The Stormlands?” Aegon drunkenly burps. “Aemond’s not in the Stormlands. He’s been overseeing our war effort in the Riverlands for the better part of the past year.”
The threads that hold you together threaten to snap but it wasn’t enough, you needed more.
So, you play a lustful game with Aegon, the only one who could give you the full truth behind the answers you seeked.
More giggling, less eye rolling.
More indulging him in his love for the cup, less scolding him for it.
Stolen looks, lingering touches, kisses on the cheek that grew nearer and nearer to one another’s lips and wanton glances from across the room.
Until finally, finally, finally… he innocently invites you to his quarters under the guise of wanting to go over battle strategy with you before your trip to the North but, with the true intention of bedding you.
It was easy from there.
Aegon longed only for women and wine and so, you used both of those things to your advantage – plying him with glass after glass and drawing him in with your body.
Allowing his hands to wonder over every curve and dip of your figure.
His hand cupping your cheek, lips brushing against yours and then you pull away.
“I cannot,” you croak, false tears springing to your eyes. “I- Aemond is my husband. He is your brother, and he is out there fighting for us and protecting us. Loyal and dutiful and I-I am here being a-a… a whore.”
You allow your tears to fall most dramatically from your eyes, a harrowing sob falling from your lips.
Aegon scratches at his head, annoyed by your sudden outburst but, still hopeful of a pleasure filled night so, he brings you into his arms and wipes at your tears; the faint outline of his cock pressing against your lower stomach.
“Oh, my dear, sweet, sister. The true picture of loyalty and duty toward a husband who does not do you the same kindness,” he tuts, thinking out loud.
You sniff sadly, lips pouty and eyes shining innocently as you stare up at Aegon, baiting him.
“W-what do you mean?” you ask, voice wobbling.
Aegon studies you for a moment, thinking about how pretty your lips would look wrapped around his cock.
Thinking about how your thoughts of Aemond were now preventing your pretty lips from being wrapped around his cock so, in his lusty, wine filled daze Aegon confesses Aemond’s sins.
Of the bastard Alys Rivers of House Strong with whom Aemond now lay with, taking her up as not just his whore but, his lover.
"A witch," Aegon tells you.
A witch who had been aiding them in their war effort for she could see what had not yet happened but was certain to come.
A witch who Aemond plotted with to rid you of life.
Aegon only confirms what you already know but, still it hurts to hear and so, you spend the rest of the night weeping into an irate Aegon’s chest as he holds you in awkward comfort.
He was hoping to get his cock wet not his shirt.
-
The next morning you are gone. Taken to the skies on the back of your dragon Vermithor.
Those in King’s Landing assuming you had left for your assignment in the North but, only going so far as Dragonstone.
Aegon unsuspecting and forgetting of the words he had spoken to you the night before.
-
“Rhaenyra,” you bow your head to your niece.
“Daemon,” you turn your nose up at your cousin.
“I should slice you from the opening of your cunt to the opening of your mouth for even showing your face here,” he hisses at you.
“You should but, you won’t,” you shrug.
Your arrogance provokes Daemon forward until Rhaenyra's hand wraps itself around his bicep.
“And you won’t because you know I can help you,” you finish.
“In what world would you think that I would want your help after your husband murdered my son?” Rhaenyra seethes, tears lining her eyes.
“A world plunged into war and forcing those of us who stand to gain nothing from it to take sides,” you bite back coldly. “I can help you win.”
“Why help us win if you stand to gain nothing from it?” Daemon studies you, slowly connecting the dots. “What has our foolish nephew done that turns you away from him?”
“My dear husband conspires to have me killed with a witch by the name Rivers. A bastard of House Strong. I’m sure the irony of who Aemond has taken to whore is not lost on either of you.”
“So, you do stand to gain something from it,” Rhaenyra looks at you smugly. “Her head.”
“You are sorely mistaken, niece,” you chuckle darkly. “It is not the head of Aemond’s whore that I want but, the head of Aemond himself.”
-
You lie in wait, perched atop of a mountain as Vermithor bristles beneath you.
You instructed Daemon on what to do – Aemond saw Daemon as the biggest threat to Aegon’s throne and so, you knew he would respond to a challenge issued only by Daemon.
His unwavering need to constantly prove that he was the better, that he was the best had always been his downfall and now he would pay for it with blood.
The undeniable flapping of wings that could only belong to a dragon bigger than your own reaches your ears; signalling the arrival of Vhagar and her rider and with that you take to the skies.
Vhagar glides through the sky, Aemond’s keen eye searching for the lithe red dragon of his opponent as he calls out taunts in High Valyrian; completely caught off guard by the colossal spew of fire that engulfs him and Vhagar.
A thunderous roar spills from the she-dragon but, it’s cut short when she’s suddenly attacked relentlessly over and over again by a barrel of bronze hurtling into her, sharp teeth, fiery breath, and large claws ripping into the older dragon in a loud clash above the God’s eye.
Aemond desperately clings to Vhagar’s reign, trying to regain control of Vhagar to steer her from where the onslaught of attacks had come from.
He only just manages, hair whipping around wildly as Aemond searches the sky frantically. Shock becoming him when his gaze settles on the Bronze Fury that emerges from above the clouds – the Bronze Fury that was sired to his dear wife.
Aemond freezes, the icy glare you level him with telling him everything he needed to know and before, he can realise what’s happening, Vermithor locks his jaw around Vhagar’s neck.
The older dragon too slow and too injured to counter Vermithor’s attacks as the Bronze Fury rips out the she-dragon's neck, sending her spiralling into the water below with a tidal wave splash.
-
Aemond emerges from the water with a sharp gasp, taking in mouthfuls of air.
Adrenaline pumps through your veins, giving you the strength to drag Aemond’s battered body across the wet sand, your hand fisted in an ironclad grip around the neck of his armour as you use up the last ounce of your strength to heave his body against a nearby rock.
Aemond stares at you from his position, each breath burning his lungs.
“How, how,” Aemond pants, violet eye piercing into your own.
“Aegon,” you answer, kneeling beside him. “He has only taste for women and wine so, I am sure you can imagine how easy it was to withdraw the answers I needed from him.”
“I do not under- understand. Alys- Alys only saw Daem-”
You tut disapprovingly at Aemond, pulling a necklace from beneath your armour, the blood red eye-shaped pendant swinging back and forth.
“Protection from her wandering eyes. No matter how far or clearly your beloved Alys could see into the future, she could have never foreseen me,” you brush silvery strands from his head, gripping his chin between your fingers.
“The Targaryen bloodline is rooted deeply in fire and blood magic, dear husband. You might have done better to remember that if your mother had bothered to keep to the traditions of our House whose sigil you wear so brazenly on your chest and name you call your own.”
Aemond glares at you with the hatred of a thousand burning suns. He should've killed you himself.
“But, not for long,” you pull the Catspaw Dagger from the sheath holstered to your side, dragging the tip along the side of his face.
“I will not beg you for my life,” Aemond spits through gritted teeth.
“But you will beg me for your death,” you smile saccharinely. “For when I am done with you, you won’t have eyes tonight; you won’t have ears or a tongue. You will wander the underworld blind, deaf and dumb and all the dead will know. This is Aemond. The fool who thought he could kill his wife.”
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
A/N: If you haven’t watched the film, I’m warning you some of the warnings will give the main plot away. If you have, the warnings will make sense to you but this fic isn’t going to be as dark in some sense as some of my others are. Now, if you haven’t watched don’t worry darling, you might want to watch it or find out about the plot to understand it more. Basically the world is going to be like that for the reader but is still going to have house of dragon characters. I understand the movie got a lot of criticism but I loved the plot and just have this amazing idea that would work with Aemond. Anyway you have been warned.
I’m going to start posting this after the last part of I Remember comes out and it will be weekly posts hopefully. (So for those that don’t know “I Remember” last post is this Wednesday.)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Warnings: Non con. Dub Con. Incest. Manipulation. Smut. 18+
Part One - coming soon
Part Two - coming soon
Part Three - coming soon
Part Four - coming soon
Unfortunately, my tag list is full so if you want to be notified for when this is posted, follow me and turn my notifications on ❤️
