#I ain't gonna argue | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bit3mebabyx · 20 days ago

Text

Made of glass

🪽you knew joel could be controlling and cruel yet you pushed your luck anyways. stupid, stupid girl…🪽3k

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), smut, jackson joel, established relationship, age gap, power imbalance, fem reader, afab reader, punishment (belt/ spankings), mentions of pain, profanity, unprotected p in v, degradation, praise, edging/ denial, orgasms, creampie, fingering, daddy kink, consent non consent (i think??? at the very least it’s dubious), emotional manipulation, man handling, angst, toxic! joel, possessive! joel (find me a version where he isn’t lol), sex used as a form of control, aftercare, nicknames, brat reader, dom/ sub dynamics, no y/n, dark joel, hair pulling

basically a whole lot it’s dark shit, let me know if i missed anything as i haven’t really written a whole lot of stuff like this!

reminder: you are responsible for your own internet consumption please do not read if any of the above content is not appropriate for you 🤍

authors note: this came to me to me in a depraved vision, it’s real messed up but i’m obsessed with it.

Kicking at the snowbank with the toe of your boot, muttering under your breath. Joel stalked a few feet ahead, heavy steps crunching loud enough to cover up the steady stream of curses you aimed at the back of his head.

"You gonna pout the whole way home?" His voice cut through the cold air like a whip — rough, worn, irritated.

You didn’t answer yet, just sped up until you were walking at his side, shooting him a look from under your lashes. "Maybe if you weren't such a hardass, patrol wouldn't be so damn miserable."

Joel stopped dead in his tracks. The sudden halt made you stumble a step before you caught yourself.

He turned toward you slow, eyes narrowing as he held your gaze. "You wanna run your mouth, fine. But you pull one more stunt like that back there—" His voice dropped, dark and dangerous, "you ain't leavin' Jackson again."

You crossed your arms, heart hammering against your ribs. "I handled it. You act like I’m made of glass."

Joel stepped closer — close enough that his body heat cut through the winter chill. Close enough that when he looked down at you, it made your knees want to buckle.

"You ain't made of glass," he said lowly. "You're just young enough it, it makes you act stupid."

Your stomach twisted, heat pooling low and tight. You opened your mouth — maybe to argue, maybe to apologize — but Joel cut you off by grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes up to his.

"You listenin'?" he rasped. His grip wasn’t painful or hard, but it was firm. Commanding.

You nodded, pulse thrumming wild.

Joel’s gaze dragged over your face, slow and simmering. "Next time you disobey me like that... I won't be so fuckin' patient."

There was a dark promise in his tone. Not cruelty — control. Care that was delivered as dominance. You felt it in your chest, your belly, all the way down.

He let go of your chin and took a step back. You almost whimpered at the loss of contact.

"Get movin'," he muttered, turning away. "We’ll finish this conversation somewhere private."

The house was cold when you stepped inside. Joel locked the door behind you with a heavy clunk, the sound final, and for a moment, you just stood there — the air thick between you.

“Take off your coat,” Joel said roughly. “Boots too. Don’t want you runnin’ anywhere.”

You swallowed, hands fumbling at the buttons of your jacket and, kicked off your boots, toes curling against the worn rug. Joel watched you the whole time, his arms crossed, jaw set.

When you were standing there, smaller somehow without all the layers, he jerked his chin toward the center of the living room.

“On your knees,” he said.

Your breath caught — but you did it. Dropped down onto the rug, knees pressing into the scratchy fibers, your hands awkward in your lap.

Joel stepped closer, boots heavy against the floorboards. He loomed over you, looking down at you like you were something he owned, something he was deciding the fate of.

"Now," he said, voice like gravel, "you're gonna tell me exactly what you did wrong. And you're gonna tell me why you're sorry."

You wet your lips, heart pounding. "I—I didn’t listen to you on patrol. I rushed ahead when you told me to wait. I... I could've gotten hurt."

Joel said nothing, just stared down at you, waiting.

You blinked up at him, throat tightening. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "It won't happen again. I promise."

For a second, you thought maybe that would be enough. That he'd sigh, drag you up into his arms, kiss the top of your head and let it go.

But Joel shook his head slow, disappointment etched deep into the lines of his face.

"That easy for you, huh?" he muttered. "Say a few words, think that erases the risk you took?"

You opened your mouth — maybe to argue, maybe to beg — but Joel crouched down in front of you, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to make you feel it.

"Sorry ain't good enough, baby," he said low and dangerous. "Not when it’s your life on the line."

You whimpered, heat flashing through your whole body. You leaned into his touch without meaning to, desperate for it.

Joel’s thumb brushed along the side of your throat, like he could feel the frantic pulse there. His eyes softened just a fraction — but it didn’t change his next words.

"You need a real lesson," he murmured. "One you ain't gonna forget."

He stood up again, towering over you, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he moved.

"Take off your pants," he ordered. "Now."

You hesitated, hands trembling as you undid the button of your jeans. Joel just stood there, arms crossed, watching — no mercy in his face, no softness.

When you awkwardly peeled your jeans down your thighs, shivering when the cold air hit, Joel finally moved.

He pulled the thick leather belt from around his waist with a slow, deliberate motion — the snick of it sliding free made you clench around nothing, thighs instinctively pressing together.

Joel folded the belt in his hand, testing the weight of it.

"Hands behind your back," he said quietly. "Kneel up, head down."

You obeyed instantly, heart hammering. The floor scratching at your cheek as you rested against the time-worn surface, hands locked behind you. Vulnerable. Waiting.

Joel circled you slowly like a wolf deciding where to sink his teeth. His fingers brushed your clothed back, trailing up to the back of your neck grabbing your attention so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You’re gonna take ten," he said. "One for every second you ignored me out there."

You whimpered — ten felt like an impossibly painful number. But you nodded, desperate to please him now, desperate to fix what you’d broken.

"And you’re gonna count every single one out loud," Joel said, voice a dark rumble. "You lose count, we start over."

Before you could answer, the first crack of the belt landed across the curve of your ass.

You yelped — the sting blooming fast, white-hot and deep.

"One," you gasped, blinking hard against the prickling at the corners of your eyes.

Another lash — harder this time — snapping against the top of your thigh.

"Two!"

Joel didn’t say anything. He just kept going, slow and methodical, each strike placed with brutal precision.

Not enough to leave you bloody — but enough that you felt it. Felt it in your skin, your bones, your pride.

By six, you were sobbing. Knees wobbling. Cheeks burning from the combination of scratchy carpet and tears. Joel paused just long enough to wrap his free hand in your hair, dragging your head back so you had to look up at him.

"You think you’re tough?" he rasped. "That how you acted out there? Like you don't need me watchin' your back?"

"N-no," you choked out, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry."

He growled low in his throat — a sound of frustration, and something darker.

"You ain't sorry yet," he muttered.

The last four lashes came faster, sharp and punishing — and by the end, you were sagging forward, gasping for air, thighs trembling.

Joel tossed the belt aside and dropped to one knee in front of you. Pulling you up so you were kneeling straight. His big, calloused hand cupped your face, thumb brushing roughly at the wetness there.

"Look at you," he said softly. "Pretty little brat. Thinkin' you can do whatever you want."

He trailed his hand down your throat, down your chest, over your trembling stomach — until it rested just above your soaked panties.

"You ain't learned a thing yet," Joel murmured. "Still so fuckin' desperate for me."

You whimpered, hips tilting toward him without thinking.

Joel smirked — but it was cruel, slightly twisted.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and ripped them down in one savage tug.

Then he leaned back against the couch, spread his legs wide, and patted his thigh.

"Come here," he said.

You crawled to him on sore knees, climbing shakily into his lap, straddling him.

But when you tried to grind down, seeking any kind of friction, Joel grabbed your hips hard — holding you still.

"Nuh-uh," he said lowly. "You don’t get to use me. Not yet."

He slid two fingers through your wetness, gathering it — but didn’t sink them in. Just traced slow, teasing circles around your clit, light enough to make you whimper.

"You're gonna sit here," he said. "You're gonna take what I give you, when I give it. You’re gonna ask for permission and wait ‘til I give it."

You nodded frantically, desperate, needy beyond words.

Joel smiled, slow and mean.

"Good," he murmured. "Now beg me, baby. Beg me nice. Maybe I’ll decide you earned it."

You squirmed in his lap, trembling, your hands still locked behind your back like he told you — but it wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed him.

Joel’s fingers circled your clit slow, lazy, never enough pressure. Barely there, just a cruel little brush that made your whole body jerk.

"Poor baby," he murmured, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Look at you. Cryin', squirmin', makin’ a mess all over my jeans."

You whimpered, rocking your hips helplessly, but Joel's hand tightened around your hip, holding you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"You thought you were grown out there, didn't you?" he said, tilting his head like he was talking to a naughty child. "Thought you didn’t need me tellin’ you what to do."

"Please, Joel," you gasped. "Please, I'm sorry, I swear—"

He chuckled low in his chest, your pathetic attempt at an apology amusing him.

"Sorry?" he echoed, sweet and cruel. "Baby, you don't even know what sorry means. If you did, you'd woulda been on your knees beggin' me to teach you better out there."

"I am," you sobbed, hips jerking. "I'm begging, Joel, please, please, I'll be good, I promise, I’ll listen next time, I’ll do whatever you want—"

Joel's thumb flicked your clit a little harder — still not enough to send you over, but enough to make your back arch, a broken cry ripping from your throat.

"Mm. Sounds pretty," he drawled. "But you said a lotta pretty things before, didn't you? Promised you'd behave out there. Look how that turned out."

"Different this time," you gasped, babbling now, too desperate to think straight. "I mean it, I’ll be good, I need you, I need you, Joel, please—"

Joel smiled — a slow, wicked, almost fond thing.

He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

"You’re so fuckin' pretty when you're stupid like this," he murmured. "Mouthy little thing turned into my sweet cryin' girl again. Bet you'd promise me the fuckin' world just to get a little relief, wouldn't you?"

You nodded frantically, tears spilling freely now, shame and need tangling so tightly you couldn't tell them apart.

Joel kissed your temple — so gentle it almost hurt worse than the teasing.

"Poor thing," he whispered. "Didn't even know what you needed ‘til I gave it to you."

You were falling apart in his lap, soaked and aching and dizzy with it.

"I’m sorry, Daddy," you sobbed without thinking, the word slipping out wild and raw. "Please, please, I’m sorry, I’m yours, I’ll listen, just—please, Daddy, please."

Joel went still for half a second — like the word lit something inside him.

Then he hummed low, pleased. His hand cradled the back of your head, pulling you in so your forehead pressed against his chest.

"There she is," he murmured. "There’s my good girl."

You shuddered in his arms, still hovering on the edge, broken open and waiting for him to decide what you needed.

Joel slid his fingers back between your legs — this time with real intent. Real pressure. Real promise.

"Sweetheart," he said softly, the mocking edge finally gone. "I know you’re sorry."

He kissed the top of your head, steady and sure.

"Cum for Daddy."

You shattered.

Your whole body locked up, a ragged sob tearing from your throat as you came hard, soaking Joel’s jeans, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

He held you through it, murmuring soft, filthy praise against your hair.

"Good girl. That’s it. That’s my baby. Knew you had it in you."

You didn’t stop shaking for a long time — and Joel didn’t let you go.

You were still trembling in his lap, forehead pressed to his chest, gasping for air like you’d just survived a war.

Joel rubbed slow, steady circles into your back — not saying anything at first, just letting you come down enough to feel how wrecked you were.

Then he hooked an arm under your knees, the other behind your shoulders, and lifted you like you weighed nothing at all.

You whimpered — from sensitivity, from trust, from the way your body just gave itself up to him completely.

Joel carried you through the house, the floor creaking under his boots, until he reached the bedroom.

He laid you down on the bed — but didn’t leave you long.

He followed you down, covering your body with his own, caging you in with his weight.

"You did so good for me," he murmured against your ear, voice low and thick. "Took your punishment like a big girl. Cried real pretty too."

You whimpered, squirming under him, already aching for more — even after everything.

Joel reached down, undoing his jeans, dragging them down enough to free himself. His cock was heavy, flushed dark, leaking at the tip.

He caught your chin in his fingers, tilted your face up to his.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he asked, voice soft but commanding. "Gonna let Daddy fuck that attitude outta you real gentle now?"

You nodded frantically, tears still clinging to your lashes. "Please, Joel. Need you. Need you inside."

Joel smiled — slow, dirty, affectionate.

"Course you do," he murmured. "You’re mine baby. Ain't goin' anywhere without me."

He lined himself up with your entrance — soaked and ready for him — and pushed in slow, steady, giving you every thick inch.

You gasped, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders, still clad in that flannel that was so... Joel.

Joel groaned deep in his chest — a rough, needy sound.

"Fuck," he muttered. "So fuckin’ tight still. Made for me, baby. Made for Daddy’s cock."

He bottomed out and stayed there, letting you feel every pulse of him inside you, every inch stretching you wide, filling every part of you that needed it.

Then he started moving — slow, deep thrusts that dragged the head of his cock right against your sweet spot, over and over, until you were keening under him.

Joel held your hands above your head with one big hand, the other gripping your waist, using your body like it was his right — and it was.

You wanted it to be.

"Look at you," Joel rasped, thrusting slow and hard. "Took your beltin', took my fingers, now takin’ cock like a good little girl."

You moaned, helpless, clenching around him.

Joel leaned down, kissed your open, gasping mouth — slow and claiming — then pulled back just enough to murmur:

"Say it again. Say who you belong to."

"Y-you, Daddy," you sobbed. "Belong to you. Always."

Joel groaned again — a filthy, wrecked sound — and fucked you harder, deeper, his control slipping just enough to make it rougher, just enough to make you sob his name again and again.

"You’re mine," he growled, voice shaking. "Mine to take care of. Mine to fuck. Mine to keep safe."

You were close again — so close it hurt. And he could fucking feel it.

Joel kissed you hard, swallowing your cries.

"Cum for me again, sweetheart," he panted against your lips. "Wanna feel you. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock."

It took barely a few more thrusts before you shattered — clenching around him so tight it milked his cock right over the edge right after you.

Joel fucked you through both your orgasms, his mouth pressed to your ear, murmuring broken praises:

"That’s it, good girl, so fuckin’ good, Daddy’s so proud of you."

He stayed inside you after, cradling your body against his, still pressing soft kisses to your hair, your forehead, your cheeks — his calloused hands never leaving your skin.

Like he had to remind you, over and over, that you were safe now. That you were his.

Joel rose above you, still and steady just enough to look at your face properly, letting your racing heart slow. His breath was warm against your temple as he wrapped his arms tighter around your trembling body.

“You did good,” he whispered, voice rough but gentle. “Real good.”

You clung to him, tears still slipping free — not just from the intensity, but because you finally felt it. The way he cared so damn much it scared you a little.

Joel kissed the top of your head slowly, as if committing every trembling inch of you to memory.

“I ain’t never lettin’ anything happen to you, you hear me?” he murmured. “You’re mine — all of you — and I’ll take care of you better than anyone else ever could.”

You sniffled, nodding against his skin. “I’m sorry, Joel. I mean it this time.”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, those rough, scarred hands cradling your face like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I know, baby,” he said, voice soft but sure. “And I ain’t just sayin’ that ‘cause I wanna hear it. I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I believe it. You’re mine. And I’m gonna keep you safe—no matter what, I never wanna hurt you but, I just can't risk it.”

He kissed you again—this time slow and sweet, full of promises and fierce protection.

You melted into him, the fierce heat and the gentle care tangled into one perfect, messy feeling.

Joel smiled, a rare softness breaking through his usual gruffness.

“Now,” he said, voice low and teasing, “you gonna behave on the next patrol? Or do I gotta remind you who’s really in charge again?”

You giggled—a shaky, relieved sound.

“Promise, Joel,” you whispered. “I’m yours. Always.”

He kissed you one last time before settling beside you, holding you close as sleep finally claimed you both.

#bella bites #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller smut #daddy!joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dark!fic #dark! joel miller x reader #the last of us part one #joel the last of us #joel x reader

1K notes · View notes

dilf-docs · 3 months ago

Text

Where Art Thou, Why Not Uponeth Me?

renaldo x younger fem!reader

summary: he wasn't even your uncle anymore, having divorced your aunt about five years ago. but of course here he was, the life of the party, crashing your sister's wedding. (alternatively: your fun bachelor uncle crashes your sister's wedding and then your pussy in the bathroom while everyone else is drunk or dancing, based on my own tweet)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (50/25), pwp, p. in v., public sex, oral (m. receiving), rough sex, doggy style, bit of degradation + pain + humiliation kink (this combo fr), exhibition kink, forced creampie, no mommy kink but he calls her mami (as in a petname), nasty!renaldo (he's a chavorruco latin lover asshole with serious commitment and flirting issues), sprinkles of angst ig?

word count: 5,130 words

side note: the snl series is back because i definetely work harder than the devil. yes, don't underestimate a horny touch starved virgin writer who hyperfixiates for a living. this filthy public sex (another episode of the writer's poorly disguised fetish) is inspired by pedro!renaldo in the newest domingo sketch (God, i love marcello my short king) because the crash out i had after it ended (sabrina, bad bunny, andy samberg and pedro all in a room singing espresso they did it for me i fear) and snl 50 in overall was kinda cathartic; i hadn't wrote like this since my sebstan days (wdyk about dilf-docs lore huh). here's some renaldo latin lover dick for you my lovely new citizens BECAUSE WE HIT A 1K POPULATION

You take a sip from the bubbly alcohol, the sweet taste in your lips as you savor your surroundings: music blasting through the speakers, the sound of glasses and cutlery, mellow conversations and the loud buzzing behavior your family is known for; everyone is here.

You lean to your left.

"Tía Elena is a drink away from blacking out" shouting over the music.

"Te apuesto cinco dólares a que se cae en la pista" (i bet you five dollars she falls in the dance floor)

You smile back mischievously at your brother. "Deal"

Your cousin Marcello pops up from behind, hovering like a fly over the food. Was it a thing in your family to be this fucking nosy all the time?

"What are y'all doing?"

Your other cousin Benito joins the circle, speaking over the song:

"They betting Tía Elena will fall again" he laughs, "como en la última reunión" (like in the last meeting)

"Hey! Esa es mi mamá" Marcello protests. (that's my mom)

"Jesus, Beni" you hit his shoulder playfully, "what a snitch"

"There's nothing else going on, is it?" your brother argues back in defense. "Can't blame us for trying to be entertained y tu mamá por no dejar la botella" (and your mom for not putting the bottle down)

"If you all went dancing, like me, you'd had fun" he huffs, crossing his arms.

Benito laughs, "you call that dancing?"

Marcello rolls his eyes, "I'm gonna go somewhere where they appreciate me and the art of moving your body with rhythm"

"Ain't no one stopping you!" your brother quips.

You laugh at the men's antics, looking at the dancefloor. Your eyes catch your sister, moving gracefully in her white dress, that twirls with the music. She's all smiles, and has never looked this pretty before, the happiness bouncing off her like the floral perfume she's wearing, akin to the smell of the flower arrangements hanging on the walls. It may be the day or that you'd always been a romantic, but today you had almost ruined your makeup at every chance: crying over her entrance, over the vows, over the speeches, the first dance... God, you love weddings as much as you love your sister.

"You men are insufferable" you take a long sip, "I need more female energy here but all I see is you" to prove so, your eyes dart across the room, full of drunk tíos laughing loudly while shoving alcohol down their throats, all the women on the dancefloor, where you should be. But you haven't, not since #he stopped showing around to drag you by force.

Benito snickers.

"Si tía Ana hubiera venido, tal vez" (if aunt ana had come, maybe)

You click your tongue, expression awkward. She had stopped coming to the meetings all together, like she had become suddenly allergic to her family.

"Ay, Beni" you sigh. "You know she hasn't been the same since..."

In some ways, you hadn't either.

"Yeah" he agrees.

"Oh, I would've gone mad too, you know" your brothers raises his glass. "After-"

"Well, but she's the one missing out!" Marcello adds with a loud cackle, interrupting him.

Benito looks behind him, smirking "Weren't you gonna leave?"

You all laugh at your younger cousin. "Ustedes ya no tienen respeto por nadie" (you guys don't respect anyone)

"You're supposed to respect your elders" you rob a champagne flute from a waiter passing by, the glass meeting your lips. "Not annoying cousins"

You look at both your brother and Beni, waiting for them to jump on the teasing, but they're both looking at the entrance of the venue. If their jaw is tight, brows furrowed and eyes wide open, it musn't been good.

"Pero, ¿tú me estás jodiendo?" (are you fucking kidding me?)

You follow your cousin Benito's gaze after his little comment, and the tranquil champagne now bubbles in your throat up violently, making you cough.

"What is happening?" Marcello jumps, placing himself in the middle of you all. He looks frantically around, until he meets the object of your attention, specifically, person. "Is that-?"

"Yes" you find your voice after a cough, "its uncle Ren"

In all his glory. Well, more like ex-uncle. But God, didn't he look good? Of course, that's the important part and not finding out the reason why the hell he's showing up to your sister's wedding when he's not legally part of your family anymore, not since about five years ago, when he divorced your aunt Ana. You've only heard of him as of late, your tías whispering past Christmas about how they'd seen Ren at the beach, whistling at younger ladies in clad bikins with his old gang of bachelors he used to run with before settling in. How fitting.

Talking about divorce... It did him good. Not to take digs at your aunt, but as he walks in with that confident strut of his, gold chain on that broad chest of him, glowing under the lights, hair neatly trimmed and gelled back, some more greys on his hair than you remembered, and that mustache and fucking goatee... He flashes everyone a charming smile with his full pearly whites and dimple on display, going to hug your sister who looks as confused and surprised as you do. But uncle Ren always gave the best hugs, so she accepts when he wraps her up in his embrace that smells like sandalwood, leather and cigs, strong arms caging her smaller frame. The biceps flex, and you wonder if he has started hitting the gym, despite his age.

You squirm in your seat, finishing the flute in a long sip that drags like a cigarrette.

"Jesus Christ" your brother shakes his head. "Dude's not got an ounce of shame on that body"

More like that sturdy body.

"Well, that's uncle Renaldo to you" Beni adds with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Ex-uncle" you feel the need to clarify for no reason.

"No puedo creer que se atreva a aparecer después de como terminó todo con la tía Ana" Marcello coaxes. (can't believe he has the nerve to show up after how things ended with aunt ana)

"Divorcing her?" you ask with a barely contained snicker. The men all look at you and sigh.

Alright, your preference to your uncle had never gone completely unnoticed, especially in a family as attentive as yours. But it was impossible not to fall under (ex)uncle Ren's spell: you suppose that is the reason it took your aunt so long to divorce him, despite their broken marriage that had been going on for years. Because while he could be the funniest and most easy-going person in the room, he too was a serial flirter who didn't stop a sleazy smile bearing all his whites or unwarrented compliment coming out of his plump lips. He had never cheated on her, but it was hard to believe he hadn't. Renaldo knew he was hot, and that made him dangerous.

No wonder your aunt clinged so hard to their sinking ship. You still remember how proud she was when he brought him in first. Call him uncle Ren, she had insisted. After that, he started showing up around more, and then there was a ring on her finger she couldn't stop talking about. They were married for ten years, separated for six and divorced since five. Didn't have any kids, despite how much your aunt wanted them. Never had time, probably wasting it crying about his late homecomings and missed calls, mind busy in heart-breaking thoughts and a frail homelife, bound to be torn apart by his bachelor mindset that had been attractive first; how she'd fallen for the man who lighted up your barbacues and taught you how to ride your bike, even kicking an ex-boyfriend's ass once. He couldn't handle all this, he whispered on that seductive voice of his, and it was so hard to not stare and drool like a fucking dog, face burning up. Maybe it started then, when you were twenty, and you hadn't looked back ever since.

"Ah, mis sobrinos!" you all look up, and you know that deep rich sultry voice all too well. (my nephews!)

Speaking of the devil, he's coming to your table, all smiles like all the women who took Ana's side hadn't stopped dancing to glare at him. He gives a loud shout to the men across the room, and they all salute back, despite his reputation, because some of them still saw him at their bar runs, too funny and charming to pass up on his company. Renaldo is wearing something a bit too casual for the occasion, but hot damn, he looks too good.

"Ya no somos tus sobrinos, Ren" Beni corrects, but Renaldo quickly dismisses the younger man. (we're no longer your nephews)

"Familia siempre es familia" he counters. He hugs everyone of you, and when it's your turn, your body can't help but stiffen at first, then relax on arms that do indeed feel stronger. Ren still smells the same. (family is forever)

"You've been hitting the gym, uncle Ren" you giggle, champagne speaking up for you. "Sorry, just Renaldo"

He smirks while licking his lips, like he's savoring the sound of his name only on your voice. "You were always an observer, weren't you, doll?" he oggles you up and down, while your brother scoffs at your heating cheeks. "You look just about fine yourself too"

Those tight black pants, remembering legs you had seen before in shorts, hairy and strong, but what catches you the most is the big silhoutte between them, still noticeable under the strobbing lights. You gulp, and when you look up to him again, his gaze is dark even when he's smirking. You think he's noticed.

"What are you doing here?" your brother cuts the moment, and you have to roll your eyes.

"Coming to my sobrina's wedding, of course" he responds easily, like his answer is supposed to make sense.

"She isn't your nephew anymore, Ren" Benito stands up, his height clashing with his. "So why don't you leave, old man, huh? You ain't welcome anymore"

He opens his mouth, but Beni cuts him.

"And don't give me that familia bullshit. If you cared, you'd have saved your marriage"

Renaldo's jaw tightens as you three watch the tense exchange.

"Yo amaba a tú tía" he defends himself. "All this family" (i loved your aunt)

"Well" your brother is the next to stand up, "you should've showed it when it mattered"

You wish for times to be simpler: when he'd be in the middle of the dance floor, moving while singing along outloud until everyone would be forced to join him, allured by his larger than life character and playful disposition, accompanied by his attractive features. Renaldo was a force of nature that not even you were spared from: his thunderous presence turned your life upside down from the moment you became a woman and your silly crush roamed into deep uncharted territories, where your heart beat too loud and your gaze lingered on the forbidden, taking every wink and compliment uttered by that grave voice of his, savoring all the interactions you could yet it was never enough.

"You should leave" Marcello backs them up, making Renaldo tsk.

"What about you, doll? Want Ren to leave?" you react, body tense when you realize he's talking to you, your brother and cousins waiting for your answer. "We ain't even danced yet, remember? Like before"

"Time's up" a new figure emerges. Papá Francisco, Ana's father and your great uncle. "You should've thought about that before, amigo" friend, spoken in a mocking tone.

"Alright, pops" he chuckles, but it's humorless, while he raises his arms in mock surrender. "I just wanted to see my beautiful girls all grown up on Natalia's special day"

"Just the girls?" a voice scoffs behind. Awesome, now your great aunt is here. "Leave. You have now seen them"

Why can't anyone just mind their own business?

(You probably weren't being fair, but Jesus, couldn't you enjoy a bit of time with a man you crushed on and hadn't seen in five years?)

"Hola, Imelda. Looking nice" and he takes her hand and kisses it. Oh, how you wish to be her, who removes her palm with a flustered face.

"What's going on?"

Now your sister has come to where a small crowd has formed, a frown on her beautiful face. Her husband trails behind.

"Nada, Nati. Tu vuelve a la pista y disfruta tu boda" Beni dismisses. (nothing, nati. go back to the dancing floor and enjoy your wedding)

"Well, you've made it my bussiness by having this conversation on my wedding, as you say" she sighs tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "Why don't you just leave him alone and we all go back to our thing, yeah?"

"No" Renaldo, who had been quiet, speaks up. "I know where I'm not welcomed" that earns a mocking Do you? from your brother and Beni scoffs. "I'll leave now" then turns around one last time, boots marking their steps with a clicking sound that echoes off the walls, despite the music still playing. "Have a nice life, Nati. Wish you the best"

You watch his back getting farther and farther away, getting lost in the sea of bodies on the dance floor. Your heart plummets and you can't he's gone again from your life, just like that.

"Show's over, gente. Go back to the party" Papá Francisco speaks in a harsh tone, filled with finality.

You try, you do, even going to the dance floor with the men, dancing around with a friend of Nati's husband who asks for your Instagram handle when the song ends, but your mind is elsewhere.

"Excuse me" you tell him with a sweet smile, and he makes you swear you'll give him your username when you're back.

Taking advantage on everyone's bliss, you quietly sneak away from the dance floor, walking towards the gardens.

One thing you'll always admire of your sister, is her attention to detail. She had chosen this particular venue for it's ample gardens, choosing for a reception on the open due to the favoring weather conditions on summer.

The dress clings to your body as the windy breezes by, and you hug your body, cursing your heels that have now started to hurt. You spot the rose bushes your sister had trimmed, looking as beautiful as the first day you saw them on the rehearsal.

"You should've stayed inside"

You jump then relax when you see him, cigarrette dangling from his mouth.

"Here" you take out a lighter from your purse. His face comes closer, hot breath on your face until the click casts a small flame that flickers light over his ageing features. He's aged fine like wine, and by the smirk he gives you before taking a drag, Renaldo's aware of it, maybe about the effect he has on you.

"Thank you, sweetheart" his big hand finds its way to the bush, rustling some leaves. In a harsh tug, he cuts a rose, and you laugh in surprise. "Here"

You smile. "I don't think you're supposed to cut these"

"But it's beautiful, isn't it?" his hands brush yours when you take the gift. "As beautiful as the lady"

A pool of heat forms in your stomach. He's complimented you before, sure, but never has the air felt this charged before, a lurking dangerous anticipation condensed on his smoke trails and your shaky breaths.

"I'm sorry you had to leave"

Renaldo is still close to you. You get a whiff of his cologne, mixed with the cigarette; it's intoxicating. Your eyes dart to the chain, and you wonder how would it look-

"They made me leave" he corrects with a chuckle, a deep rumble coming from his chest.

"Right" you laugh, feeling nervous all of the sudden. "My bad, Ren"

"You didn't want me to leave, did you, doll?" the new wave of petnames makes your legs weak. "Also..." he makes a brief pause, the cigarette now dropped and stomped against the grass. "I like the way that sounds"

Before you realize, his fingers are ghosting over your lip, brushing until some of the matte shade coats his calloused thumb.

His fingers then move to your chin, applying a light pressure to your skin, but enough to bruise.

"Say it again"

"W-what?" you ask, barely a breath.

"Say it, y/n" his face is just inches away from yours. You have to bite your lip to hide out a whine from the sound of your name on his voice. "I know you want to"

"R-Ren" you choke out, fluttering eyelids at the way the pressure doesn't falter.

"Now be a good girl and spell my full name like it's the only thing you know"

The following whimper you can't contain it; the praise gets to you.

"Renaldo"

His brown eyes adquire a dark shade that even in the low moonlight, you notice.

"So pliant, doll. For me?"

You nod dumbly, completely fucked out of your mind, warning sirens barely a buzz in the back of your head. Be it the alcohol, or the lack of control you had when it came to him, its impossible to resist the want to fall.

A beat. "Might reward you for that"

He crashes his mouth into yours, full force, in a heated, hungry and messy kiss. He sucks your lips so hard they for sure will bruise, an action very fitting with his strong and absorbing character. His tongue is wet and sloppy, giving you no space to breathe as you grant him access, wrapping your hands around his midsection, pulling him closer.

Renaldo chuckles, letting you gasp for air. "So needy, aren't you? Always were like this. So demanding; wanna have things your way"

"I see you know me well, don't you?" you bat your eyelashes.

"It's impossible to ignore you, you goddamn tease" your fingers trace through his broad back, tanned skin soft that your nails feel the need to dig. You once eavesdropped on your aunt gushing to your tías about how he loved nails-- long fresh manicured nails; red for the win. "Fucking temptress"

Renaldo groans into your mouth. "Think I wouldn't notice how you looked at me with this hungry eyes, huh?" he bites your lips so hard you taste blood. "Might as well just said it"

He forces his tongue inside of you again, making your body squirm as he presses his weight over you, back pinned to the bushes, the leaves tickling your skin. Ren now swallows a whine of yours, dick throbbing hard at your needy sounds.

He then detaches his mouth from yours, a silver string of saliva connecting you two.

"Still can't fucking say it"

But he insists you're the tease.

You cock an eyebrow. "Never was good with words. How about this?"

Renaldo holds your gaze as you descend, until your knees hit the grass. Your fingers toy with his pants until you pull them down, following with his underwear.

"Oh, doll. Consider me interested" as if his cock wasn't leaking with precum.

Your lips begin to wrap around the tip of his cock, then swallow him whole, eager and so fucking cock starved. Soon, you pick up a rapid pace, your tongue doing God knows what but his jaw is tense from keeping the sounds from coming out, but aren't you testing his limits? Slurping on his damn cock like you've been deprived of it all your life. In a way, you have, and you don't waste time in not sucking the living soul out of him.

Your eyes look up, chest warm and pussy wet at the pleasure etched across his face, and he looks at you, at your drooly mess for sucking his dick.

He tugs your hair harshly, making you gag.

"I wanna see you" he gathers your hair up into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face. "Keep going-"

A grunt escapes his lips, cutting himself off. You clasp your thighs together looking for some pressure to ease yourself a little, your mouth busy still gagging, sank down until you feel his balls. The tip of his cock is buried in your throat, lodged so fucking deliciously in the back. You let it out, and Renaldo groans.

"The fuck you do that for?" comes out his complain, voice strained.

"I needed my mouth to speak" you clean some drool on your face. "Need you to do something for me" he clears his throat as letting you speak. "I want you to fuck my mouth"

"Carajo, muñeca" you place a little kiss on his inner thigh. "You're so fucking dirty, who would've thought?" (fuck, doll)

Your chest rises and falls, lips parted while a string of saliva coats them.

"Alright, wanna see if you're just talk, you cock hungry whore" Ren smirks devilishly. "I'm gonna ruin the fuck out of you"

He gathers you by your hair and shoves you back down, hips bucking with a movement so brash you choke. Your pretty eyes water and your fake eyelashes get wet. Renaldo continues to buck his hips up and force you down, choking and spit sounds making his dick hard as he throws his head back with half-lidded eyes.

His big cock stuffing your throat feels like a dream and he knows you're enjoying it.

A little content smile graces his lips, and he can feel his abdomen tightening. He bucks his hips up faster, forcing your head down deeper, panting as you gag on his cock, and when his grip on your hair falters and his body shakes, you know he's close.

"Little slut" he teases with a hoarse voice, "do you want to eat my cum that badly?"

Your answer comes in the form of sucking him off to drive him to the edge, refusing to pull out.

"Entonces hártatelo, puta" (then gorge on it, slut)

He fills your throat up with his cum, sputtering and swallowing down as much as you can while he holds you in place. You gasp for air when he finally lets you go, a mix of cum and drool running down your chin.

"A fucking expert, doll. Five stars" his finger brushes over your skin. "Look at this mess 'cause you were too fucking hungry. Lick it"

Your chest heaves, but you get close to the fingers, sucking on them. It tastes like him and you, the sensation making both your cunt and chest warm. You don't hold yourself back and look at him all the time, the sucking sound as obscene as the latest.

Suddenly, in the quiet of the night, you can't think of anything else.

But then leaves rustle, yet none of you have moved.

"Y/n?"

Shit, It's Beni. You then recognize Marcello and your brother, trailing behind.

"Looks like we gotta go" he laughs, amused. You can only feel your face burn. "Ah, no te preocupes, muñeca. I know a place. Follow me" (don't worry, doll)

Renaldo has taken you to a fucking bathroom, just meters away from the venue. But the music is loud, and no one notices the two people hurriedly getting inside, like dumb horny teenagers.

"Jesus" he pants, and you click the door. He reaches for your face, carressing your warm skin before ghosting over your lips. "Now, where were we?"

The kiss.

Again, it's rushed, rough and impatient, like he too had been waiting a lifetime to taste you.

Renaldo pushes you against the bathroom's wall, making you moan when his larger frame cages yours. You're drowning of him: his smell, his sweat that starts to pool, the heat radiating off his body, the view you have of his veins and tense muscles, that fuckass chain... It's all now yours.

He gropes your body, testing forbidden waters until now. Then, his hand leaves your ass and reaches for your exposed inner thigh. His greedy fingers wander into the upper cut of your dress without any warning and head for your clit. The older man hisses, feeling your wet patch, rubbing teasingly through the thin material of your laced panties you now feel lucky to have chosen, arousing you even more. You feel them damp and sticky while tilting your head back in pleasure and he takes the chance to paint bruises all over your neck and collarbone.

"Renaldo" you moan his name as his tongue licks the exposed skin of your collarbone, trailing dangerously close to the valley of your tits, pushed up thanks to the dress. He bites down on the crook of your neck, skin inviting.

"Glitter, baby?" he chuckles at how it seems to shimmer. Your friend Sabrina had convinced you to do it, even borrowing you hers; it smelled like vainilla.

"What's this, huh? You youngsters never fail to amaze me" with a sleazy smile that makes your pussy clench, more when he open his mouth to show you his sparkling tongue.

"Oh? We're just getting started" you pant as his fingers slide through the seam of your panties, gracing your entrance. "I'm full of surprises"

"Little minx, I like that sassy mouth of yours" you roll your hip to reach out for his teasing fingers, "we're about to find out"

You repeat the motion, cunt aching for his touch, but end up gracing his pulsating strained bulge with your upper belly in the process. He stops, the black pants looking uncomfortable-- fighting to be freed.

"Fuck, mami. Need'a be inside you" you nod too eagerly, lips parted open. His hand graces your ass. "Now turn around"

You obey without thinking twice, and he pushes your face down on the counter with a harsh demanor.

"You won't move, right?" you hum, despite his hand placing on your neck and the other grabs your waist hashly, fingers digging in the skin to keep you still. You whimper at the light pain, "Good girl"

He pulls down your panties until they fall down to the floor, then hikes your dress up, exposing your ass.

"Nice, mami" he whistles, "I like what I see"

To prove so, he uses his hands to part your legs and spread them open, his other hand undoing his pants for the second time during that night.

"Tell me how much you want this" but he's already pushing the head of his cock into your folds. His tip brushes your soaking clit, and it sends a delicious but painful shiver that coarses through your body.

"Badly" you cry out.

"Tus deseos son órdenes, muñeca" he purrs. "Despite it all, I'm a gentleman" (your wish is my command, doll)

In one swift move, he pushes his length into your slick folds. "So wet, doll. 'S it for me?" you nod and he laughs, "gonna reward you for that"

He pulls his cock out and then slams it all inside, burying himself to the hilt.

You jerk under his hold at the sudden move, feeling all his girth in your walls, trying to take him. A breathy moan falls from your lips.

"Shh, don't move" he leans down to whisper in your ear, "music is loud but it ain't gonna do miracles to cover up those slut sounds out of you"

He doesn't ask for permission, only increasing the pressure of your face against the counter, the cold burning against your cheek, and begins to move inside of you, soon picking up an erratic pace, his pelvic area slamming into your ass. Fuck, your eyes sting from the brutal force of each thrust as he forces into you, movements sloppy, and the obscene sound of skin clapping against skin feeling the now feeling even smaller bathroom, that is starting to get hotter and more humid. You can't really see the mirror, but can imagine it fogging up.

"Tell me how it feels" Renaldo pants, his grip on your waist increasing in pressure. "Wanna hear you say how much you love my cock, little puta" (whore)

"S-so goo-good" you sputter out.

"'S that why you had to suck me off in the garden?" he chuckles darkly. "Couldn't even fucking wait, didn't care to be caught like a fucking whore by tus primos y hermano. No, you wanted Renaldo's cock so fucking badly you got on your knees as soon as he came back into your life" his words should make you feel embarrassed, but you moan at the string of humiliating and lewd words. "Bet you thought about it since forever, heh? You opportunist cocksleeve. That you touched yourself to this even when I was with Ana"

"C-couldn't help it, Ren. Wanted you so so bad" you cry. "Always have"

"Fucking filthy little shit" he whistles, "you're no good girl. You're a real bad girl"

You whine, turning into a moaning mess, blabbering nonsense.

"I-I need to-"

"Go on, tell Renaldo what you need"

"Need to c-cum" you gasp, walls clenching around his cock, your eyes battling to remain open.

He leans down, bitting your earlobe. Then, he kisses it, his smokey scent carresing your hot skin.

"Go on, baby. Wanna see you take all of my seed until it drips from your legs" he grunts, his thrusts sloppy and messy like his kisses. "I need'a see you walkin' back inside so everyone knows what you did, you filthy slut. For everyone to see what's mine"

You see stars, pussy gushing over his dick. His thrusts loose rhythm, and you know he's out for blood.

"W-wait!" you feel the overestimulation as his dick twitches inside you.

"You said you'd behave" he pants, his hold still firm. "So don't be such a fucking bitch and let me cum too, mami. You aren't cruel, are you?"

"N-no"

"Then you'll let me do this" his cock spasms, "and this"

His seed spurts inside of you, thick whiteness dripping down your ass and thigh as your pussy milks it. Some spills on the floor, some drops on your dress and some on his pants, black pants, making him hiss.

"Fuck" he curses, while pulling out. "See that?"

"Oh, I see" you chuckle dryly. "But you forget only one of us is going back to the wedding"

He chuckles, taking in the sight of you: dress ruined, hair damp, run makeup and cum-stained legs. Despite it all, you're still so pretty, and he can't believe a girl he used to call sobrina five years ago has now taken his dick like a fucking champ. Renaldo tugs some loose strands behind your ear, sleazy smiling at you.

"I have a solution" his finger traces your arm, taunting.

You want to stretch your time with him. God knows when you'll see him again.

"Yeah?"

"No awkward questions, no explanations, and more of this" he signals his dick; it's still pulsating, dear Lord. How old was this guy again?

You shouldn't bear any hopes or hop on his truck that probably reeks of ashes and rum. But you never had any sense when it came to Renaldo, and now that you've tasted him, nothing will ever be the same.

"I'm all ears"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal snl #snl #snl 50 #sabrina carpenter #bad bunny #marcello hernandez #pedro pascal renaldo #renaldo #renaldo snl #renaldo x reader

1K notes · View notes