#HAHAHAHAH NOT ME FUCKING TAGGING THIS LIKE ANYONE EVER SEARCHED THAT IN THEIR LIFEEEEE

[goldafterglow]

the glimmer of my eye

Summary: Din Djarin, a brothel worker in a small cottage town, services a client he is extremely familiar with.

Pairing: farmer!Daddy!Jack Daniels x brothel worker!little!Din Djarin

Word Count: a little baby 1.5k+

Warnings: 18+/NC-17 ONLY, lmafdsgfjdkhgs yikes this is short little whirlwind, mlm, i will repeat this is a Man loving a Man a lot, anal, Dd/lb, barns, sex work

A/N: y’all fucking asked remember that shit Y’ALL FUCKING ASKED (also the best way to picture this au is like the cottagecore! au, except the cottage is a brothel, but if you’re not familiar then this should still be enjoyable I hope!)

Gif Credit: my love and angel @mrpascals​

“Could…I see?”

His eyes swirl with tree rings, dark and charred as though he’s walked through fires just to reach this bed, reach him. The farmer smiles shyly, a bashfulness he isn’t familiar with that stings his cheek when he curls his now-swollen lip. He looks down to where the boy’s cheek is pressed to his chest, warmth he’s felt before and yet somehow never known until this moment.

“The barn?” he asks, voice soft but still in disbelief. That hadn’t been his intention when he’d started rattling off about it. It was a boring space, more of a hayloft considering how empty it was compared to the animal barn. There wasn’t much in it but hay, seed, and open space. So much space.

“Big windows,” he explains meekly, and Jack could swear his eyes are starting to shiver the way they do when he wants something, the way they do when he’s about to beg. His right hand glides up the side of the boy’s body from his hip to his jaw, the cracks of his dry thumb scratching against his stubble.

“My boy, I just don’t wanna get your hopes all up in a twist,” Jack insists. But then he looks down again and Din is batting his eyes, lashes thick and curling to the tip as they flit in the softened clementine glow of the bedside lamp. He jokes that for as much money he spends just to be with his sweet boy, he always seems to be the one getting what he wants. But he knows that’s what he’s buying, just a chance to give, a chance to make Din smile and need him as deeply as he needs Din. And it’s always been worth it.

“Alright, alright,” Jack concedes. The bright smile that spreads across his kiss-swollen lips is blinding but priceless, something Jack couldn’t fish out the cash for if he wanted to. “I’ll bring you next morning, how’s that sound?”

“Anything, Daddy,” he begs.

“I’ll show ya, baby,” he assures, leaning down until he feels the gentle knock of his worn forehead. His nose falls right into the crook of his face, a dark haven where he can feel the tips of lashes brush against his cheek. “When the sun shines right through them big windows. They wouldn’t mind if I stole ya for a morning, would they? They know I’m just over yonder, I’ll getcha back in a tick.”

Din smiles at the thought of you.

He can already hear the hefty argument - “Sweet boy, the whole morning? You’d better treat him right; that poor man adores you like no one else. You should’ve seen his big puppy eyes when he saw you that first time in the market, oh I knew he’d like you from the moment I met him. Why don’t you take a few blankets? It gets cold around this time of year and I don’t want you shivering back home to me.” There isn’t a thing you love more than when people love on your loves.

“They won’t mind,” Din whispers, the bubbled edges of a giggle tracing his words.

“I’ll make it so special for you,” Jack says enthusiastically, his mind racing as tides sweep through his mind and begin to pool. “I could feed you breakfast fresh from the farm, there ain’t nothing like them eggs still warm from the hen house. I still have some of them orange squashes, I remember you folk would just about buy me out every week. Do you still like them? I got another-”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Din interrupts.

The tide falls.

His chin juts up gently, mouth capturing his in the sweetness of berries that squirt syrup in his mouth and the lace of cotton sugar that sew between their lips, binding them. Suddenly the lamp light becomes fuzzy, the sheets feeling blurry, and through his closed eyes he can see nothing else but a boy with a throbbing heart, aching for his attention and coated in rose petal embers. He does not pull away, his mouth pressed to his in a way that feels so haphazard and mindless that he basks in it.

“I’d do anything for you.”

—

The golden boy.

He is adored; adorable. And he must know it when he looks up at the farmer with his big brown eyes, must know it when he runs his tender, calloused fingers through his soft tufts of chestnut hair like cupping clouds of fizzing sea foam. His voice drips like molasses when he speaks; Din loves it that way. Slow, smooth, pulling away in thin cords that hold everything together in tight, sturdy ribbons.

Sweet.

The boy loves hearing him talk, more than most. The farmer hadn’t believed it at first, wasn’t used to the special attention. But the first time he ever asked, said, “Will you tell me to?” all shy, Jack had seen the stars sparkle in his eyes like splintered flecks of golden flames spraying from lightning.

Still, as he runs his hand up his back and presses the tip of his cock into him, he wonders if that’s when he’d gone sweet on him.

“Feel alright, baby?” he grunts, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the column of his spine. Din has little willpower like this, cock strained from all the grinding he’d been put through on the rough denim of his Farmer’s jeans, and he gasps when Jack presses a little further.

“D-daddy,” he whines as he feels himself begin to stretch even more, feels something thick and heavy fill him up just how he likes.

“You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” Farmer Daniel coos, sinking the thickness of him into the warmth of his body. “Take me all the way baby, I know you can. Just like that sweet boy.”

He is drowned out by whimpers and the light creaking of wood from Din’s strong fingers gripping the edge of the smooth wooden support beam where Jack had him bent over. Jack always fills him good, he thinks. Daddy always makes me feel good.

“Good boy,” Jack purrs as his hips press into the plush of Din’s ass, balls deep. He’s stretched out plenty, been stretched out so many times before, but he could swear he feels tighter this morning. Something holding him, clamping down like soft feather talons to keep him here if he has to claw at him with his last fleeting breath.

But his golden boy doesn’t need all of that, not when Farmer Daniel’s had been so taken by him from the moment he’d laid eyes on him.

The window in the barn faces the East, to the right of the world, his world. The sunlight only just creeps through, sweet slivers like bronze streamers tossed across the open space, across the caramel oak and right onto his back. Jack runs a hand up into his hair, palming his scalp as the tip of his cock presses deeper into him.

And then he looks back.

His breath catches in his throat when they lock eyes, deep pools of roasted honey that spill down his tongue and coat his throat. He looks sculpted, impossible, and the farmer’s face melts down into a vast blankness like the space between stars.

“Fuck me Daddy.”

Jack quirks a smile, leaning down and over him to press his face into his. He sometimes wonders if there was any sweetness before him, has tried to remember the eons he spent smiling at regulars at the market and making a place for himself, imprinting his face into the town. He wasn’t unhappy then, not by any means, but that only makes him confused as to what more his crashing star could’ve given him.

Bliss.

“What’s that, boy?” Jack grunts, pulling out a little only to press back in, grinding the tip of his cock until Din is on the verge of tears.

“Oh stars - please don’t tease me,” he cries as another thick bead of precum spills down the slick underside of his cock. There is a low hum, a blinding tug on his hair, and then Jack is snapping his hips into the plush of Din’s ass.

“Like this boy?” he spits as he pulls sob after sob out of him, “Yes Daddy, please Daddy, faster Daddy faster.”

“Daddy loves the way you sound when you’re full of his cock. I love the way you squeeze me boy, such a desperate little slut for Daddy.” Jack’s grin has been sent tumbling down the hill, lost in the awed parting of his lips as he drills into him over and over. He knows how rough the boy likes it now, knows that there isn’t much he won’t take to make him happy. Fuck how he loves making him happy. It shocks him how delicate he once thought he was as he stands here now, tugging his hair and pounding into him as hard as he can give it.

“Right there Daddy, fuck me right there,” he hears. Jack knows he won’t last like this, but Christ if this boy isn’t worth every second, every penny in his pocket.

“I’ve got you baby,” he assures softly, the gentle twist of his voice soothing as he fucks him merciless. “Daddy���s always got you.”

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