#chews erotically writes

[chews-erotically]

Hello all,

Just wanted to say I am taking a *brief* break from WG while I finish up a Din x F! Reader one-shot.

It will involve sex pollen and so it WILL be 18+, obv.

Excerpt below in case anyone’s interested:

Title: Noble Intentions

You jerked away from the door, eyes sweeping up and down the corridor. You remained alone. You turned and padded quickly toward your quarters in the servant’s wing. You kept your eyes down; your brain worked through this new information furiously.

A bounty. No doubt a high price. Someone was coming for the eldest son, may in fact already be in the vicinity. The Canlos were clever; you’d overheard whispers during charity functions and in booze-soaked studies. When they decided to act, they kept their dealings close to the vest, only imparting impending danger to an enemy at the last possible moment. Usually too late for the target to even react.

Eldrin was right to panic.

A brief, hesitant glimmer of hope was blooming in your chest.

As you made your way to your quarters, you’d noticed the growing din of commotion toward the wide foyer. You followed it, staying close to the wall. Your heart was now a hammer against your ribs.

You were right to anticipate trouble had already arrived. You’d barely made it five more steps before a deafening blast threw you back into a stone column. The front gates had been breached, the doorway blew inward. Shrapnel splintered and cracked against the stone floors. You reflexively crouched behind the pillar, waiting for a chance, any chance in this gift of a distraction.

An imposing figure strode in, cloaked head to toe in armor. The figure

(he?)

Remained silent and purposeful. He did not speak, merely angled a long, forked rifle toward anyone who may dare approach.

No one dared.

He clutched a small metal square that blinked rapidly red. It emitted a sound that was urgent, insistent. The others that had gathered seemed to grasp the heavy urgency of what was happening; they were promptly scattering like insects, desperate to attract the attention of had to be the bounty hunter sent after Eldrin.

You held your breath. The imposing hunter breezed past you, single-minded in his movements.

The beeping and footsteps retreated. You felt as if you were dreaming.

You stood on shaking legs and moved to the door. No one was there to stop you.

You stepped out into dry sunlight.

You could barely believe your eyes when you saw the ship in the courtyard, ramp extended downward. You did not hesitate- you ran.

[chews-erotically]

I really want to read your work but it doesn't seem to scroll down. Please help!

My dear I am so so sorry..... I’ve been taking a Tumblr break so I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I honestly have no idea why it won’t scroll, but I am not the most technologically advanced individual.

Is anyone else having this problem, please let me know so I can try to fix it????

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous

Part Thirteen

Preview

Ezra had begun writing an autobiography of sorts. You often heard his dictation well into the stretch of your afternoons, his voice animating into flights of vivid imagery and florid, expounding descriptions. He dictated, but he also typed, pecking with the pointer fingers of each hand. You knew that when he was typing he was not to be disturbed. He never said it outright, but you knew that he typed because he could not bring to life the horrors he’d both witnessed and committed, he could not convince himself to speak of things he’d done that would shake the foundations of a kinder man’s moral compass.

You were not privy to those thoughts. You stayed away, you respected his need to keep that part of him tucked away. You knew it was his way of working through it, of processing the deeds that had led him to what seemed in the reaches of his mind to be an unearned reward. He would tell you in his own time, you did not press or push him as you knew better than most how fragile peace of mind could be. You would allow him any indulgence that may work to keep the dreams away.

When Ezra had a nightmare, you were most often awoken by a keening whine between clenching teeth. He did not thrash as you did, rather he’d lie beside you as if paralyzed. You had to talk to him to bring him back, coaxing his rigid muscles to loosen with careful, even strokes of your palms across his limbs and torso.

“Come back to me, love. You’re not back there. You’re here with me.”

He would reemerge from his fathomless depths gasping, and reach out to you, winding his limbs through yours as a thistle seeks to weave itself into the wind that caresses it.

[chews-erotically]

Preview of the follow up to Noble Intentions because I am a fool:

You had fully expected things to drastically change between you both after that night. Whether good or bad, you knew to prepare yourself for either eventuality.

You’d extricated yourself from beneath his heavy arm when his even breathing had devolved into soft snores. You winced as you padded away. You hoped you wouldn’t wake him. He needed to rest, and perhaps you’d assisted him in achieving meaningful slumber.

Din.

The name he’d given you in the throes of what seemed to be manufactured passion remained in the back of your throat like an endangered bird lashed against the stretched moorings of your vocal cords, as afraid of its freedom as it was of possible extinction.

You needed the ‘fresher before retiring to your own cot; the remnants of what the Mandolorian had left inside of you leaked steadily, unashamedly down your thighs. You knew that you were going to feel him with every step you took for days to come.

When you finished cleaning up and lay your head down on the sparse mat you called your bed, you decided that you were not going to mention what had happened. You still felt fragile, unsure of your place in all of this. Still dependent on another’s kindness and sense of charity. If Mando

(Din)

decided to broach the subject with you after the fact, you would address it then. You knew you’d had no control over how desperate you’d been, how lasciviously you’d bared yourself to him. You tried not to dwell on the sounds you had made, on the sounds your body had made.

What was done had been done.

Your fingers drifted up to your neck as your eyelids became heavier. Strange, not to have the familiar weight of the collar upon you. This, as well, would be an adjustment. You’d gone so long with the ring of durasteel being a part of you, a part of your identity and station. You felt somehow even further unmoored by this, by who you were now.

You simply didn’t know, not yet.

[chews-erotically]

Hey you guys, I haven’t been super active here this week, I’ve been paralyzed by fear and rage because of the whole.....thing. Yeah. So I haven’t done a lot of writing and I’m still working on the ending of NI and I know I said I really wanted to get it out this weekend but it’s just not happening.

SO. Next week for sure, barring any other attempted fascist takeover. I’m therefore posting another peak at the fic bc my anxious ass just needs to reconnect with humanity. I love you.

Noble Intentions: THIRD

You didn’t have time to react to his words as he was at your back all at once, his boot kicking your legs further apart. So smooth, so graceful and maker-forsaken fast. You could barely blink, and he was a solid wall of heat against your back, beskar baking in the twin suns. Despite the stifling desert air, you shivered.

You felt his hands hovering just over your shoulders before they landed, the right skimming slowly down your arm to where you held the blaster. You struggled to keep your grip on the piece, almost dropping it into the dust at the shock of contact. When his hand reached yours the leather curled over your fist as he brought his other hand over to meet his first, effectively caging you from behind. You fought hard to focus, to process his words, when all you wanted to do was combust.

“Hold the grip like you mean it.” you swore you had never heard his voice get so low, so close to the cusp of your ear. You knew your sharp intake of breath was embarrassingly obvious. You fought to steady yourself, inhaling and exhaling in deliberate measures as if you were staving off a panic attack. But it wasn’t panic, and you felt your cresting arousal threaten to eclipse any semblance of self control you were clinging to.

Din fucking knew it, too.

“Aim,” the word was a whisper growled, even closer now. You felt the edge of beskar just barely skim the fine hairs at your temple. You drew a final breath in and held it. All at once you felt his hands on your hips, gripping, gloved fingertips sinking in and bruising. You felt as if you were going to pass out.

Instead, your jaw clenched, and you squeezed the trigger. You braced your upper body now, shoulder bouncing off of Mando’s pauldron at the same time as his hands jerked your hips backward to press against his. You looked forward, shocked and elated, as the blaster shot had shattered a corner of glass in front of you. Not a direct hit, but something.

You exhaled, feeling your legs tremble. You realized that you were sagging backward against Din as his arms moved from your hips to encircle your waist.

“Good girl.”

His words brought an unintentional whine from you. His arms tightened. You felt yourself pressing back onto him and it was firmer, more intentional. You struggled to sort through the flood of your chaotic emotions that were warring within you for dominance. Elation at your blaster shot. Wonder at the discovery of this unexpected competence. Desperate lust for the man who held you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you found your wavering voice.

“We should...go back. To the ship…..,” you whispered, voice strained and reedy.

“I know what you were doing in my chair,” Din whispered, not a beat later.

[chews-erotically]

Not sure if anyone especially cares, but I posted the sequel to Noble Intentions last night and it was quickly brought to my attention that the formatting had been royally messed up. I tried to fix it quickly but I only messed up more and then my tags stopped working....so, it kept bothering me and so I deleted the update... I will be redoing it entirely this evening so if you saw the update know that it exists, it was not how I wanted it AT ALL, I’d rather redo it at this point .

[chews-erotically]

WAXING GIBBOUS

PART EIGHT- Preview

“Prognosis is precarious,” One of the physicians had pulled you into a private room to go over findings with you. You had since been seen and treated; miraculously you had not needed surgery, though you would most likely have permanent nerve damage to your thumb and two fingers on your left hand. You’d been told that you’d likely be in the hospital for a week or two; you needed IV antibiotics and respiratory therapy in addition to wound care.

You’d requested a private room as close to the ICU as possible, passing a piece of aurelac to the Intake Administrator. He’d accepted with wide eyes, and you’d gotten your room.

The doctor was solemn as she looked over the rims of her glasses at you.

“Your partner has diffuse opacities in the lower lobes of his lungs. The left is partially collapsed. We’ve intubated him, as you know, to allow his lungs time to rest and strengthen. He is septic, and he’s being treated with an experimental cocktail of three different antibiotics, dexamethasone for inflammation, and vasopressors to maintain his blood pressure.

“Fortunately, his body is strong and his kidney function is improving. He has remained without a fever for the past eight hours, so that is reassuring. If he continues to show improvement I am fairly confident that we can begin planning for extubation within the next two to three days. If he can tolerate extubation and begin breathing on his own, we can start weaning his oxygen and begin to wake him up.”

Okay honest question, I realize I’m updating pretty quickly. Would anyone prefer I slow my roll a bit? I tend to hyperfixate on what currently has my attention and right now it’s this story. Should I maybe stick to one update a week?

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous Part 9

PREVIEW

NSFW!!

“.....Dove. Can’t wait to be home with you….” His large, warm hand rubbed up and down your back before circling around your hip, then your waist.

“....can’t wait to be in a bed with you. A real bed.” His fingers spread, his hand coasted lazily up your abdomen and palmed your breast. Your soft gasp echoed into the dark hospital room as you arched into his palm. His fingers zeroed in on a nipple, tugging through the thin material of your tank top. You mewled, hot explosive breaths against his chest. When he craned his head down to bring his mouth to yours he kissed you slowly, deeply, his tongue darting and curling. You bit at his bottom lip and gasped into his hot, sinful mouth.

“Ezra, you’re killing me.” You felt his lips curl wickedly upward. He began to speak to you lowly, in hoarse whispers, punctuating each thought with a nip to your throat, all the while pinching and pulling at you through the fabric of your shirt.

“....Been dreaming of you. How you lose the ability to speak when I’m splitting you open. The sounds you make. The sounds that cunt makes when I rock into it. The way you shake when you fall apart….”

He had nudged his knee in between your legs, and you found yourself rhythmically rocking your core against his thigh. The burning fullness between your legs was causing you to leak your fluids onto his skin as you ground your clit desperately onto him. You were certain he could feel you through your cotton shorts. You whimpered pitifully as he continued.

“It’s killing you that we can’t do any more than this right now, in this bed. Anyone could walk right in, Dove.”