#PPCU fics

[whoredyceps]

“Another word and I'll make you regret it.”

» you've tried everything to get a coworker to stop asking you out. not even human resources can help you. your only hope is din, who offers to play the role of a less-than-savory ex-boyfriend to get the guy off your back. will the punk tactics work?

» pairing: modern!din djarin x reader

» tags: creepy ass coworker, bouncer!din djarin, nondescript f!reader (brief use of she/her pronouns), threats of violence, vulgar language, no beta - we die like men

» author's note: i've been itching to write a modern!din fic and now that i have some level of creativity capacity back, it's over for y'all. i started writing this in a fever last night and haven't stopped.

"It's horrible. He just— he gives me the creeps!" You frowned as you leaned both your arms on the counter. Across from the kitchen bar, Din was at the stove. He nodded as he listened, his attention on both you and the risotto he was cooking.

"Why don't you go to Human Resources? Isn't that what they're there to help with?" Din glanced at you over his shoulder.

"I did! He hasn't actually done anything legally creepy, so there's only so much that can be done. It's like," you huffed as you got wound up again. "There's no reason the man should be passing my office, but he makes it a point to stop by my desk. Plus, he does this weird hand thing."

You hopped down from the kitchen stool to stand beside Din. He looked away from the risotto, just in time for you to grab his hand and hold it up.

"Pretend you're me," you explained. You proceeded to high five him, then wrap your thumb around the back of his hand. In short, you two were holding hands in the middle of his kitchen.

"So he just holds your hand under the guise of a high five?" Din raised an eyebrow. You nodded quickly, an exasperated expression on your face.

"Exactly! I feel like I'm going crazy, Din. Maybe he's just trying to be friendly in his own friendly way but..." You trailed off and pulled your hand away, your arms crossed over your chest.

"But what?" Din lowered the heat on the stove before he fully turned towards you.

For a man who looked like he had won every fight he had been in, you had only seen a softer side of him. Of course you had seen him angry here and there, but he was always friendly with you.

Two of you lived down the hall from each other. With the layout of the building, it was just the two of you on the floor. Din moved in almost a year ago, and you were thankful to finally have a normal neighbor. Over the time he's lived here, the two of you had become good friends.

"Can I be honest with you?" You leaned your hip against the marble countertop.

"Of course," Din assured you. He gave you his full, undivided attention.

"He scares me. Look, I know I'm not in any danger or have to worry that something will happen, but there's just something about him that makes me feel uneasy. I don't care that he wants to be my friend or wants to be pleasant. All I want is to go to work, do my job, then leave. I don't want to be his friend, or his anything." You didn't quite meet Din's eye as you spoke. It was something you hadn't been able to verbalize to anyone, at least not as well articulated.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Din asked. He was always one to be the voice of reason for you. While it was the logical step, he noticed the way you practically curled in on yourself. That wasn't like you at all.

"What if it's all in my head? Maybe I'm just reading into it, and I don't wanna stir up something just because I'm too in my own thoughts," you explained. "You know, maybe I am just—"

"Don't," Din cut you off. "If he gives you the creeps, that's reason enough."

You sighed and nodded. He was right, as he usually was. You watched him finish with the risotto while you grabbed two plates from the cabinet. The two of you worked in silence as you plated dinner and sat at the dining table.

"What if you told him you had a boyfriend? Doesn't that usually work?" Din broke the silence as he popped open a bottle of wine. You nodded, a small pout on your face as you held you glass to him.

"I had a bad morning and he kept pestering me about what was wrong, so I told him I had a crazy ex-boyfriend who came to my place the night before." You glanced out the window that the table was sat next to. It was small, made only for two people. Din wasn't one for company, so your presence always felt special.

"Was it actually a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. He watched you as you shook your head.

"Not even close. At least not any that live around here. I just had a shit night, but I didn't want to get into it."

You took a bite of the risotto, and your eyes fluttered closed. It tasted perfect. How Din was such a good cook, you weren't so sure. His meals were better than anything you'd had in a restaurant.

There was so much you both did and didn't know about him. He worked as a bouncer at a bar a few blocks down the road, and he slept most days. He had a cat named Grogu, but you just called him the Child. His apartment was clean and tidy while still full of bits and pieces of his life all over.

From what you had gathered, Din had traveled for most of his life and had many trades under his belt. Though he promised early on, when he first moved in, that he was here to stay. He was settled, and he wasn't moving again.

Not that you were complaining.

"Do you need a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. Your eyes popped open, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? I mean, no. I'd rather not deal with two creeps at once." You looked at him like he had grown a second head. So much for your voice of reason.

Din rolled his eyes and shook his head. He put his fork down, his dinner temporarily abandoned.

"No. Let me rephrase that. I'll come in to your job and scare him off," Din explained. "All he needs is the evidence, right?"

You mulled it over in your mind. As you did, you looked at the man in front of you. At first glance, he did have an aura that would best be described as 'rough around the edges'. Hell, he made you a bit nervous at first. Though it didn't take long for him to show that he was a softie behind closed doors. Doors you were lucky enough to find yourself behind.

"You'd do that for me?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips. Your heart squeezed when he gave a slight smile back.

"Of course. Anything for you to feel safe. That's all that matters to me." Din went back to his dinner, fork in hand as he looked down at his plate.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to eat again. There was hope yet that you wouldn't have to run your coworker over.

Before you left Din's apartment, the two of you had come up with a plan. You would ask the guy to go with you to get lunch down the block, and Din would be waiting there for you. He'd look at tough and mean, and just give the guy a good spook.

"What if he keeps being weird?" You asked as the two of you stood in the doorway of his apartment. Din was leaned against the frame, his thick arms crossed over his chest. You wondered if he'd ditch the long sleeve to show his tattoos tomorrow.

"Leave that to me. If he's got two braincells to rub together, he'll leave you alone. The first sign of trouble after and you call me." That wasn't a request, and you were well aware of that.

"You got it. Din?" You held his arm as you kissed his cheek. "Thanks again for helping. I knew I could come to you." As you pulled away, you noticed how red the shells of Din's ears were.

"Anything for you. Be careful heading home." You rolled your eyes as he smirked. He said it every time you walked down the hall to your front door.

"Maybe that joke will be funny one day. Odds aren't in your favor today," you chuckled.

"Eh, I'll take my chances."

You gave his arm one last squeeze before you went back home. That night, you slept easier knowing you'd soon be able to go to work in peace. Worry still sat in the back of your mind, but you trusted Din. He knew was he was doing...

Right?

All the next morning, your stomach was in knots. You almost called Din on your way to work to call the whole thing off, but you knew he had probably just fallen asleep. No way you'd ruin his sleep because you were a chicken.

When you got to work, you asked your coworker if he wanted to grab lunch when it came time. His eager smile made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too in your head about it. Still, you just felt icky all over, no other way to put it.

Dread sat on your shoulders as you worked. With every glance of the clock, time seemed to move slower and slower. Finally, just past noon, you shot up and went to find your coworker. He gathered his things, and the two of you set off.

The walk was awkward enough. You tried to engage in conversation, but his intense gaze on you was too much. He brushed against you at one point, and you wanted to jump out of your skin. Instead, you remained composed as you kept moving forward.

You had chosen a cafe with an outside eating area. One that would make it easier for Din to be menacing without causing a scene in a secluded space. Your coworker opened the small gate to the eating area open for you, and you scooted past him. Without seeming to eager, you glanced around.

All at once, you froze. While you were relieved to see Din sat at a table, you still had to play the part. He was in a corner, leaned against the gate with his feet propped up on the wooden table. As soon as his eyes landed on you, he kicked himself off and stood.

For the first time since you met him, Din looked terrifying. He was his usual tall, hulking self but his demeanor was totally different. He wore a sleeveless tank and thick black jeans. You took in the sight—

Did he have snake bites? Did this man re-pierce his lip just for you?

Fuck, talk about dedication.

You were frozen. While it could be read as fear, it was definitely something that twisted your stomach.

"Oh my god, Din? What are you doing here?" Your voice wobbled as you slowly approached him. Din moved with such ease for a man who looked like he could lift a car with his bare hands.

"Who the fuck is that?" Din ignored your question, his finger pointed straight at the guy behind you. His voice was an octave lower than usual.

"He's a guy I work with," you sputtered out. "We're just—"

"Why the fuck are you with my girlfriend?" Din poked his chest and moved closer. Close enough that he almost barreled into you. Before you could catch yourself, he caught you with his free arm. His large hand was splayed across your back as his fingers dug into your side.

"She's not your girlfriend. Are you that shitty ex that gave her a hard time?" The guy asked, appalled at Din's mere presence. You glanced back at him to see a bead of sweat on his forehead. Good, it was working.

"Oh, I gave her something hard last night," Din smirked. As much as you hated to admit it, the vile words out of his mouth made your cheeks grow warm.

"Din," you warned in a low voice. "It was a one time thing. We aren't together." It was easy to fall into the role of the damsel, scared of what her ex-boyfriend was capable of.

"You heard her," your coworker snapped. "Get away from her, and let her go."

Din barked out a laugh, his hand gripped your side tighter. You knew you should feel scared, but truth be told, your brains and insides had turned to mush. He was hot all on his own, but right now? You'd drag him to the bathroom right now if there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"Come get her yourself, you little piss ant. Wait, is your name Alex?"

Your coworker nodded and took a step back. Everything you had been through felt worth it in that moment, just to see the look on his face. If it wasn't inappropriate, you'd snap a picture to keep it forever.

Din released you, only for him to move you behind him. He stepped closer to Alex until they were practically flush against each other. He was a full head and a half taller than your coworker.

"So you're the one who's been following her around like a fucking freak? What, you think following her around like a sad little puppy is gonna get you in her pants?" His tone was almost humored, he was so astounded.

"Babe," you started, your hand stretched out to grab Din's toned bicep. He didn't hold back as he continued.

"Leave her the fuck alone. Speak another word to her and you'll regret it. If I find out you've been anywhere near her," Din grabbed his shirt and dragged him so close that their noses brushed against one another. "I will break your fucking legs."

"I-" Alex stuttered. He was frozen in his spot, his eyes searching for anything but the face in front of him. You watched as his feet struggled to stay planted on the floor.

"Yeah, that's what I though. Get the fuck out of here, and leave my girlfriend alone if you want both your kneecaps." Din shoved him back, hard enough for Alex to stumble as he was let go.

Without so much as a glance his way to see if he was watching, Din turned and grabbed for your waist. In one swift motion, you were flush against him and his lips were on yours. It was unexpected, but it sealed the deal. You almost heard Alex scuttle away, if you weren't so wrapped up in the kiss.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when you pulled away. Much to your disappointment, you did have to stop at some point. Din's hands still held your face, your bodies pressed together.

"Seemed convincing enough?" Din had a slight smirk once he was sure there was no sign of Alex. He noticed the dazed look in your eyes, the way you watched his lips move.

"If not, he's truly a lost cause," you sighed. Despite his appearance, he was back to your Din. In the blink of an eye, he went from an ex-convict with a taste for blood to the guy you made baklava with last week.

"He was a lost cause from the start," Din finally let your face go. "You okay?" He stayed near you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Fuck, that kiss really put you through the ringer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thankful I don't have to spend my lunchbreak with that guy," you sighed. Din perked up a bit and slipped his arm around your shoulders.

"Think you can stomach the time with me?" Din asked. You chuckled and leaned into his side.

"You know, my schedule did just clear up," you teased. Every casual touch, every part of you pressed against the man lit your sense on fire. How were you going to be normal now? Now that you knew what he tasted like, how his lips felt against yours?

"Atta girl." Din slipped his hand down to the small of your back and guided you into the cafe.

Needless to say, Alex hadn't looked at you since. If he crossed your path, he went in the opposite direction. You were able to work in peace, no dread from the minute you walked in to the moment you left.

All thanks to Din.

[arcanefox207]

The Warden.

GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3

Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.

Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.

M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S

You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.  

As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.  

You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.

You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.

“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”

“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man. 

He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.    

“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed. 

As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.

“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.” 

You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.  

“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.

He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you. 

“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.” 

You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?

“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous. 

“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.

“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.

You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.  

“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.

But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more. 

“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.  

You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.   

You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.

“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”

You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.

“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him. 

“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth. 

“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch. 

Why is this turning you on so much?

“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”

Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.

“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks. 

You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow. 

You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him. 

“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.  

“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.   

He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling. 

He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm. 

He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter. 

He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency. 

“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”

Fuck...

He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.

The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.  

As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.  

He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.   

He can’t be serious… 

Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched. 

He is serious.

His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.

“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”

He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.   

The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.     

“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient. 

You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience. 

This was only ending one way. His way. 

“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him. 

You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.

He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip. 

God he was big.

“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.” 

You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.

“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.

He was so thick. 

You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.  

“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees. 

You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.   

“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.  

“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.

With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking  and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.

He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.  

He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you. 

You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

This sick fuck was edging himself. 

He wanted more. Needed more. 

“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.

He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly. 

“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it. 

He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.

He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam. 

You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.

“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass. 

He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there. 

“What's this?” 

Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.

He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.

Fuck.   

“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.

“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”

It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will. 

“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked. 

“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you. 

“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back. 

Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.  

He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam. 

“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements. 

“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.

You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex. 

Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol. 

“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you. 

You let out a moan and he knows he has you.  

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer. 

“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.

You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.

“Get on with it.” You concede. 

He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.

With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.    

His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip. 

There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.

It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.  

He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.  

He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.   

Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.

“Please..” you beg him between moans. 

“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill. 

“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.

He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him. 

Your climax tears through you. 

“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”

He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.

He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body. 

“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake. 

He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest. 

“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.

Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)

@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks

@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel

@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy

@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog

@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou

@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal

@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort

@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi

@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring

@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions

[slimybeth69]

"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol. 

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?” 

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?” 

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol. 

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.” 

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?” 

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up. 

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?” 

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself. 

Probably being sad. 

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around. 

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go. 

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything. 

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone. 

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone. 

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar. 

“Whaddya doin’ here?” 

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him. 

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.  

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket. 

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive. 

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed. 

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home. 

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be. 

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too. 

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen. 

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions. 

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react. 

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off. 

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants— 

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing? 

He should go home. 

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company. 

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea. 

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was. 

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.” 

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous. 

How are you so nice? Sweet? 

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol. 

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age. 

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.” 

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt. 

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less. 

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets. 

Something you might regret. 

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you. 

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance. 

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time. 

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life. 

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch. 

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away. 

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time. 

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey. 

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change. 

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?” 

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.” 

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster. 

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch. 

“You know what.” 

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all. 

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air. 

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.” 

He and you both know that’s not true. 

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note. 

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg. 

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

[baronessvonglitter]

I read so many fics over the holidays and found great new (well, new to me) authors. Starting next month I'll be doing monthly fic recs instead because whoa.. this is a lot ❤️

Please take time to read these stories, and others by these creative and beautiful people 💫 And mind the tags, as the majority of these blogs are 18+ and come with their own warnings.

dividers by @plum98 👑

Joel Miller

Borrowed Time by @aurorawritestoescape ~ Joel x f!reader

Darkest Desires by @myownwholewildworld ~ Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader.

Fade Into You by @probablyreadinsmut ~ Joel x Afab! Reader

Girl Dinner by @slimybeth69 ~ kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader

A good grade by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader

Guilty Pleasure by @for-a-longlongtime ~ dbf!Joel x reader

A Hell of a Morning by @aurorawritestoescape ~ Stepdad!Joel x f!reader

It feels like hope by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Hot Priest!Joel x f!reader

Lock the Gate by @almostfoxglove ~ Joel x f!reader

The Older One by @frannyzooey ~ Joel x f!reader

Overloaded by @katiexpunk ~ Joel and Tommy Miller X fem!Reader

Pregame Play by @joelmillerisapunk ~ Dbf!Joel x reader

Seeing Pink by @gutsby ~ Joel x Reader

Texas Red by @studioghibelli ~ Joel x reader

this one thing you did by @joelscruff ~ Joel x f!reader

Three Strikes by @maiamore ~ Joel x f!reader

Unwrapped by @sunshinehaze1 ~ Joel x f!reader (f. Marcus Acacius & Lucilla Aurelius)

The Warden by @arcanefox207 ~ GameWarden!Joel x F!Reader

you got me thinkin' nonsense by @joelmillerisapunk ~ Dbf!Joel x F!reader

Dave York

In Vino Veritas by @yxtkiwiyxt ~ dave x f!reader

The Lonely Space Between Floors by @morallyinept ~ Dave x F!Reader

One Day at a Time by @drewharrisonwriter ~ Dave x Female Reader

A Quiet Neighborhood by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Dave x f!reader

The Road Not Taken by @guiltyasdave ~ Dave x f!reader

Under False Pretenses by @joelalorian ~ stepdad!dave x f!reader

Javier Pena

How could you love somebody like me? by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ f!reader x Javier

Lost and Found by @oliveksmoked ~ Javier x f!reader

A New Year's Distraction by @lotusbxtch ~ Javier + f!Reader

Pump by @morallyinept ~ Javier x GN!Reader

Marcus Pike

Merry Christmas, baby by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Marcus P x f!reader

Sign Here, Please by @inept-the-magnificent ~ Marcus P X f!Reader

Dieter Bravo

A Better Man by @drewharrisonwriter ~ Dieter x reader

Din Djarin

Best Kept Secret by @lincolndjarin ~ bodyguard!din x princess!reader

Pero Tovar

Baron Tovar Takes a Wife by @604to647 ~ Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero x fem!reader

Confession by @sawymredfox ~ Pero x fem able-bodied reader

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the Stars Pt. 2 by @the-mandawhor1an ~ Marcus A x f!Reader

Frankie Morales

Extra cream and sugar by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Frankie x f!reader

Multi/Other

Blackmail by @milla-frenchy ~ Javier Pena x fem reader x Joel Miller

Cosmic Love by @kedsandtubesocks ~ Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

Datura by @suzdin ~ Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York

Don't say a word if this word is not "please" by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ General!Marcus Acacius X slave trader!Javier Peña

Fuckboy by @sizzlingcloudmentality ~ unnamed ppu character x f!reader

Paris, Texas by @almostempty ~ Joel Miller x Javier Pena x f!reader

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hey there!

This month felt endless, am I right? Can’t believe it’s finally over.

This is a list of all the fics I read in January, I started writing it at the beginning of the month so they are in chronological order based on when I read them.

There’s a lot of stories but I still feel like I haven’t read enough lol

I loved every single work on this list so I highly recommend for you to read them and give some love to authors! They’re unbelievably talented and bring so much joy to this fandom, someone even in my life but this is another story.

I put the link to the Masterlist for series, so you can see all the chapters, some of them are ongoing and some are finished.

Please mind the tags and warnings to make sure a story doesn’t trigger you and makes you uncomfortable, I’m not responsible for what you choose to read, only you are.

Happy reading!

❋ Consume - @sunshineispunk

Stepdad!Joel x reader , DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

❋ Liquid Gold - @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Joel Miller x f pregnant!reader x Tommy Miller

You are super pregnant and currently miserable after a third trimester issue crops up. You don’t know how to fix it, and Joel is determined to make you comfortable again. Will he come up with the right solution or are you going to spend the last few weeks of your pregnancy in awful pain? (Lactat!on kink)

❋ The First Time - @fettuccin-e

Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Size kink

❋ Mouthful - @pedgito

Joel miller x reader

Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

❋ Holiday Heat - @baronessvonglitter

Joel Miller x f!reader

Only one bed trope, grumpy x sunshine, age gap, strangers to lovers

Sharing a hotel room with a grumpy (and handsome) stranger while a storm makes travel inaccessible. What could possibly go wrong?

❋ The Warden - @arcanefox207

Joel Miller x f!reader - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

❋ Quicksand - @javier-pena

Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader

You meet a stranger at a party

❋ Borrowed Time - @aurorawritestoescape

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul.

❋ After hours - @mssalo

Sub!Joel x Dom f!reader

❋ Wandering Hands - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

Javi can't keep his hands off you during a dinner with some friends.

❋ Strangers - @joelmillerisapunk

Stripper!Javier Peña x f!reader

you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

❋ Law of Attraction - @baronessvonglitter (Series Masterlist link)

Dave York x f!reader - Romcom AU

Dealing with emotions is difficult when you and Dave realize how you really feel about each other. When a night in turns sour, you seek help from an unexpected source.

❋ Easy - @slowdivinqs

Joel Miller x f!reader

waking Joel up in the best way possible.

❋ Bad blood - @aurorawritestoescape (Series Masterlist link)

you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help

step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

❋ Never have I ever - @wannab-urs

Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

You and Dieter play never have I ever and it gets spicy.

❋ My paramour, my evermore - A Joel Miller Story - @schnarfer (Knights and Kings AU)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel Miller is the loss of your life

❋ Let's Go - @thundermartini DBF!Joel x f!reader

you decide to channel your inner party girl on this Friday night. But things won’t go as planned. You’ll get even more from this night than a dance in a club and free drinks from strangers. (Or, I just wanted a pretext to imagine bouncer!joel railing me in the back room of a club.

❋ Yes ma’am - @sizzlingcloudmentality

Dave York x dominatrix!reader

life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. he needs professional help. aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. good thing he has your number.

❋ Untitled - @aurorawritestoescape

Joel’s twin x f!reader || 500 words

❋ Girl Dinner - @slimybeth69 Dead dove do not eat (Series Masterlist link)

Joel Miller x f!reader

After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

❋ Foxglove Downs - @whocaresstillthelouvre (Series Masterlist link)

Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucius Verus

In the exclusive realm of elite show jumping, where wealth stretches as far as the polished estates, Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus are locked in a fierce competition that reaches far beyond the arena.

❋ No strings to hold me down - @baronessvonglitter

fwb!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Enjoying the freedom of being friends with benefits with Joel Miller, a new emotion flares when you see him out with someone much younger.

❋ What’s a Tomdaya? - @604to647

Modern!Pero Tovar x fem!reader

Pero regrets getting into a group chat with your friends

❋ Prisoner - @almostempty

f!reader x Din Djarin

this time our fav bounty hunter is the bounty and you're on a mission to capture him and claim your reward

❋ Final part of the neighbor series - Masterlist - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

❋ All the good girls go to hell - Masterlist - @aurorawritestoescape

Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader

you can't stop thinking about your stepdad so you do something risky to have a little more of him. But Joel is not the "little more" kind of guy.

❋ Close-up - @milla-frenchy

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you

❋ El cumpleañero - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

It's Javier's birthday, so you show up to his party and things get fun.

❋ Reincarnated - @joelmillerisapunk

Joel Miller x f!reader

A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

❋ Leather and Lace - @probablyreadinsmut

Javier Peña x f!reader

Javier Peña is back in Loredo after retiring from the DEA. He's horny and looking for something new. That's when he finds you.

❋(Un)faithful - @probablyreadinsmut

Rbf!Javier x Married!Reader

Your marriage is lackluster, your sex life even more so. When your best friend Javier finds out, lines are crossed and lives are changed forever.

❋ some thoughts on hbf (husband's best friend) joel @baronessvonglitter / Drabble

❋ BDSMaid - @mountainsandmayhem (Series Masterlist link)

After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

[natalieispunk]

the sluttiest thing that a man can do

[perotovar]

A Writing Challenge from August 1st - September 21st

"Erin, what is Frith?"

Frith, is an Old Norse term, typically used among friends and kinsmen, that would often be used in a diplomatic way to bring peace.

Or, more plainly, “a mutual agreement to avoid causing each other physical, emotional, or mental harm, and to avoid negatively affecting each other’s honor, worth, and luck.”

This is meant to be a long-lasting agreement among those that take part.

Now, I’ve spent a decent amount of time to know, in this fandom, that that could very well be wishful thinking, but I’m choosing to stay positive here. It’s no secret that there have been things happening lately that are less than stellar, to put it mildly.

But I’m not here to talk about that.

I’m here to have fun and be creative so that’s what we’re going to do!

I’ve had this idea brewing for several months, and it’s a subject matter that’s very near and dear to my heart. In my personal life, I’m a practicing Norse Pagan. For those that are unfamiliar, I like to describe it as worshiping the Old Ones. I follow the teachings of the Norse Gods.

Why am I telling you this? Well, since this is something that’s so close to me, and we’re all here as fans of one Pedro Pascal and his work, I figured why not combine the two? Initially, the goal was to write all these fics myself, but when I discovered just how exhausting and time-consuming that would be, I decided to include all of you!

I failed to do a follower milestone to thank you all and celebrate, so take this as my thank you for sticking around here and showing support to my fics and gifs.

Alright, so how is this going to work?

huge shoutout to @scenaaario and @kedsandtubesocks for all your help on this you lovely humans ♥

Another important aspect of Heathenry (Norse Paganism) is reciprocity. “Gifts given for gifts received.” So, you all wouldn’t just be giving me a bunch of fics to read. I’ve made something for those of you who will participate as well. This is an equal exchange.

I’ve paired up several of the PPCU with Norse Gods and made moodboards for each of them. I have reasons for matching them up the way I have, and I’ll go into more detail as to why later.

So, yes, this is a writing challenge at its core, but it’s also a way for me to show a little peace of myself with you all and for us all to be creative and have fun! Maybe you’ll step out of your comfort zone a little and that’s okay!

There is an expectation that something will be written/received, so if you don’t think you’ll be able to participate, that’s totally okay. There’s no pressure at all, and I appreciate any support or boosting to get to those that would like to!

Okay, enough of all that, which Gods have I chosen to match up with the Boys?

I’m glad you asked! Matching up traits and personalities was really fun, and really challenging. Nothing is a 1:1 match, but that’s okay. Nothing is supposed to be, and that’s where some of the challenge may come in.

For those that are participating in the challenge, you’ll send me an ask declaring which God/Pedro Boy you’d like to write. In return, and my part of the reciprocity, you’ll receive a moodboard to use for your fic, and a little blurb telling you a little more about the God and why I’ve chosen that character to pair them with. I’m hoping some of them will be a little obvious, but I’m aware not everyone is as familiar with the Gods as I am.

There are only 14 slots and therefore only 14 moodboards made, so once someone has been claimed, that’s it. As much as I’d love to have even more people participate, I don’t think I can make that many things lol.

If you’d still like to contribute somehow, I’m open to any questions you may have about the Gods (and maybe how the boys relate), because I’m a big ol’ nerd and love talking about this shit.

So, who’s who?

Maxwell Lord – Odin [Óðinn] (The All-Father and God of wisdom, magic, war, death, but also cunning and trickery.) claimed by @missredherring

Pero Tovar – Thor [Þórr] (God of thunder, lightning, sacred groves and trees, strength, and the protection of humankind.) claimed by @morallyinept

Max Phillips – Loki (The Trickster God of mischief and chaos.) claimed by @qveerthe0ry

Oberyn Martell – Freyja (Goddess of love, sensuality, sex, passion, war, and magic.) claimed by @guiltyasdave

Javier Peña – Freyr (God of fertility, harvests, and peace.) claimed by @almostfoxglove

Ezra – Týr (God of victory, law, and justice.) claimed by @marisferasiop

Marcus Moreno – Frigg (Goddess of domestic life, marriage, and maternal energy.) claimed by @joelalorian

Joel Miller – Hel (Goddess of death and guide to the underworld.) claimed by @beefrobeefcal

Dieter Bravo – Bragi (God of poetry, oral traditions, and the Skaldic Poet of the Aesir.) claimed by @schnarfer

Javi Gutierrez – Baldr (God of light and purity.) claimed by @morallyinept

Dave York – Vidar [Víðarr] (The Silent God of vengeance.) claimed by @kedsandtubesocks

Din Djarin – Heimdall [Heimdallr] (Gatekeeper of Asgard, the gods’ stronghold within Valhalla. God of guardianship, vigilance, and protection.) claimed by @djarinmuse

Frankie Morales – Skadi [Skaði] (Goddess of winter, skiing, bow-hunting, and mountains.) claimed by @agentmarcuspike

Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels – Ægir (Brewmaster of the sea.) claimed by @lotusbxtch

extras:

Marcus Pike – Idun [Iðunn] (Goddess of eternal youth and sacred apples.) claimed by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Silva – Ymir (First being in existence and the reason for the creation of Earth.) claimed by @yopossum

Santiago Garcia – Fenrir (Most famous of all the wolves in Norse Mythology and the bringer of Ragnarok.) claimed by @for-a-longlongtime

There are no rules for your fic itself. You can write whatever and however much you want. All I ask is that some aspects of the Gods stay intact, otherwise this would just be any old writing challenge.

I wanna see you guys get creative with what the Gods offer. How are they speaking to you? What energy/vibes are you getting off of them? Run with it.

Now, I’m posting this the day before Lammas, the Pagan holiday that often takes place in the Summer, August 1st. I think it would round out the summer nicely if everything gets published around Mabon, September 21st, the holiday that celebrates the Fall equinox.

That gives everyone almost two months to write their stories. I’m hoping that’s a decent time? If it’s not, I’m not picky and typically run on Pagan Standard Time, so if it’ll take you a little longer, just let me know and it’ll probably be fine.

Thank you for sticking with my ramble, and I wish you all gọ̄der hēle (good luck)!

And remember, have fun!

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day twenty-six: possessive

ᰔ pairing: joel miller x reader

ᰔ summary: you and joel spend a friday night at the bar, which ends up with bloody hands and a hospital visit.

ᰔ author's note: a change of plot in the ninth hour thanks to that one picture. it's past 10pm and i'm writing like a madman. send help please god. inspired by this picture ✋😮‍💨

ᰔ content warning: no outbreak but canon typical violence, irritable joel, bar setting, alcohol consumption, creepy bar patrons, reader gets hit on, blood, hospitals, doctors, strong language

"Are you sure you want to go in? We can head back home and watch a movie," you offered. "Let's go out another night."

Joel shook his head, his hand extended out to cut the engine of the truck. He wanted to give in to your offer— turn right around and drive straight back home. Dread had filled him the minute he sat in the truck.

At the beginning of the week, you had asked to go out to the bar on Friday. Some of your friends were supposed to be getting together for drinks and pool. You agreed, and they urged you to bring the guy you had been seeing. When you brought it up to Joel, he surprised you with a nod and a 'sure, it'd be nice to get out'.

"We'll have a good time. Figure it'll be good to let your friends see I'm not just some cranky bastard," Joel huffed out a laugh. He had an amused smile on his lips as he climbed out of the car.

"Oh, I don't think you'll be less cranky," you chuckled. "That's okay. They know I like them bitchy." You put a hand on his chest and kissed him once he was close enough. Joel rolled his eyes; you swore they'd fall out of his skull with how often he did it.

"Bitchy? That's a new one." Joel opened the door for you as the two of you approached. You glanced over your shoulder.

"No it ain't. No one's bold enough to say it to your face," you chuckled.

Like most dive bars, the place was packed for a Friday night. The crowd ranged from long time regulars that regaled with each other to college kids that were too proud of their fake ids that no one really cared about.

You scanned the crowd to find your friends, who were tucked in the back. They were all gathered around a pool table and on what seemed to be the second round of drinks. You slipped your hand into Joel's and led him through the crowd. Before you got too far, he planted his feet. You turned, a look of confusion written on your face.

"I'll get us some drinks," Joel offered. You nodded and thanked him with a kiss. His hand slipped out of yours— he already knew your drink of choice. The two of you hadn't been together more than a few months, but he paid enough attention.

You joined your friends and gave the round of hugs and greetings.

"No 'Joel' tonight?" One of your friends teased as they elbowed your side. You shook your head and crossed your arms.

"Nope, but I did pick up that hot guy at the bar on the way in," you teased back. Every set of eyes turned to the bar to analyze the man in the flannel, his back turned to you.

"Bitch, that's fucking Joel. You posted a story with him in that same shirt a week ago," another friend chided. You cackled as she punched your arm. Your other friends waved you off or flipped the bird.

None of your friends had met Joel yet, but they had seen and heard more than enough about him. They knew he wasn't very social so as soon as you said he would come along, there was a buzz of excitement.

"He offered to grab us some drinks. What was I gonna do, say no?" You watched as two of your friends argued over the rules of pool. They fought like this every time, so you tuned them out.

Joel returned with two drinks in hand, a beer and one of your old faithfuls. He slipped a hand onto the small of your back. Your shirt shifted and you felt the press of his fingertips against your skin. A small shiver came over you.

"Guys, this is Joel. Joel, these are my friends." You went through the group and introduced everyone by name. Joel, ever the southern gentleman, shook everyone's hand and gave a polite hello.

You stuck close to Joel as the two of you settled into the group. He fit in easily as he jested with your friends. He even offered to play a round of pool with one of the guys— totally unprompted!

As you watched him and chatted with a friend, you noticed how quickly your drink had disappeared. With a small pout, you held your glass up.

"I'm going to get another drink! Be right back," you yelled over the loud background noise. He gave a nod, and you slipped him to head for the bar.

Since you had arrived, the bar had only grown more rowdy. It seemed the football team from the local college had finished their practice and wanted to party. You couldn't blame them, considering the drinks were cheap and it wasn't a far drive from the stadium. Still, you had to practically elbow your way to the bar.

As you waited for the bartender to finish with their current task, you felt a presence beside you. That, and you could practically smell them from where you stood. God, college boys smelled just as bad axe-laden middle schoolers.

"You all by yourself?" You almost didn't believe the boy was talking to you. If not for him pressing closer to you, you would have ignored him all together.

"No," you replied. "I'm here to grab a drink for myself and my boyfriend." You tried to move away, only to end up squished between an older woman and the man with no clear sense of personal space.

"I don't see him," he chided with a smirk. "Isn't that what they all say? I've got a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a partner— yet no one by their side."

You whirled around with a raised eyebrow.

"You do know that I don't have to stand near him all night, correct? Just because we're not next to each other doesn't mean I don't have a boyfriend," you returned. The boy rolled his eyes and leaned on the bar.

"Baby—"

Your skin crawled at the name. Nothing angered you more than some shitty pet name from some random guy who didn't know you. The only person who deserved to call you baby was across the bar and in the middle of a pool game.

"I'm not your baby. Don't call me that," you snapped. "Can I just get my drink in peace? I'm not going to be polite next time." You turned your shoulder, your back to him as you waved down the bartender. She was on her way to you when a hand landed on your waist. It made your skin crawl as you launched yourself away from the bar.

"What, baby? You a fuckin' prude or something? Savin' yourself for your little imaginary boyfriend?" The tone in his voice had you seeing red. Your fists balled up and your expression twisted into one of rage.

"Is this how you pick people up at the bar? How's being an idiot working out for you?" You had to take a deep breath before you went in swinging. It had not been the first time you had been in a bar fight, and it seemed old habits died hard.

"Worked every time before. C'mere, baby, I'll buy you—"

You watched the scene play out in slow motion. One minute, the idiot's hand stretched out to grab for your hand. In a blink, a big, calloused hand grab his wrist and yanked him away from the bar.

Joel looked enraged. You had seen him angry plenty of times, but this was different. His lips were downturned, but the look in his eyes scared you. Not for yourself— god, even the idea seemed ridiculous to you— but for the dumbass.

"Choose your next words carefully. Say baby one more time, pretty boy." Joel's tone sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost like he was begging the boy to do something dumb.

"Get the fuck off of me, old man. Like you have a better chance with the bitch."

Oh.

Yeah, this boy was gonna die. Time stood still as you watched the football player try to deck Joel with his only free hand. In one swift move, he yanked the boy's arm forward and threw him onto the ground. He managed to land a punch that sent a crack so loud that the bar fell into a hush.

The boy yelped and tried to swing back, but Joel was quicker. He had at least fifty pounds and half a foot on him. That, and a load of unbridled rage. He didn't take kindly to harassment, but to insult you in the process? Call you a bitch?

You stood, your mouth open in pure shock. Truth be told, you were glued to your spot. Two men managed to pull Joel off, while a few other bystanders tried to stop the boy's scrawny friends from getting the same ass-whooping.

Finally, as if your brain seemed to come back to Earth, you blinked and lurched towards Joel. You blatantly stepped over the boy to get to your boyfriend. His hands were bloody and his expression was soured.

"Hey, hey— Joel, baby, take a deep breath," you muttered. The two men who held him back lead him towards the exit, and you followed. One of the guys opened the door, and you took his spot as you guided him outside. You thanked the men as you managed to unlock the truck bed. Joel sat with a heavy sigh and murmured a thanks under his breath.

"Can I see your hands?" Your voice was soft. The air was cool and loud with the sound of the frogs all around. Joel was silent as he let you hold his hands. He sucked in a sharp breath when you fiddled with a few fingers.

"This looks broken," you frowned. "We need to get you to the hospital." You didn't care that Joel's hand was full of blood, or that his hackles were still raised. If you weren't so concerned, you'd be in shock still.

"It can wait until tomorrow," Joel gruffed. He never meant for it to happen, him beating the living daylights out of the idiot, but he'd be damned if he'd let someone talk about you like that. If anything, the kid's lucky enough walking away alive and talking.

"Please," you asked. "What if it's something serious?" If something bad happened to Joel, especially after he got hurt defending you, you'd be beside yourself.

By some miracle, or maybe the worry written all over your face, Joel conceded with a nod. He got off the edge of the truck bed and began for the driver's seat.

"Oh, absolutely not. I'm driving. Go." You weren't going to take no for an answer. Joel gave you the keys before he climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride to the hospital was short and silent. It wasn't uncomfortable, but you weren't sure what to say. How did you thank your boyfriend for beating some guy's ass? It was more than some verbal acknowledgment— did you buy him dinner? Suck his dick? All of the above?

You helped with the check-in process once at the hospital. As the two of you waited to be called to the back, you laid your head on Joel's shoulder.

"Thank you for defending me. I don't know what that guy's problem was." You felt Joel's jaw rest against your head. He reached over to hold your arm with his uninjured hand.

"Dumbass was too big for his britches. I only caught the tail end, but I figured it out real quick when I saw your face. If I hadn't'a swung first, it woulda been you." Joel knew that, no questions asked. If someone was going to get charges pressed, he'd rather it be himself than you.

"Shit, you're right. Though my uppercut wouldn't have done much, at least compared to your hit. I mean goddamn," you chucked under your breath. "You damn near knocked him into next Tuesday."

"Still wouldn't have been enough if I had. Who calls someone a bitch like that? Fuckin' vile, that piece'a shit," Joel grumbled under his breath.

Once he was called to the back, they made quick work on setting his hand in place. Joel bit back a groan as they popped his fingers into the right place and put a brace on his hand. He was sent off with a prescription for painkillers and an order for no heavy lifting. That hurt him more than anything else.

"Shoulda just put me down instead," Joel grumbled as he followed you out of the emergency room. You held good arm as you guided him to the truck.

"It won't be that bad. Maybe you'll actually get some rest," you lightly teased. Joel attempted to chuckle, but it just came out as an amused huff. He didn't even try to go for the driver's side. Not like he'd be able to drive for another week, at least.

"Don't go for miracles," Joel warned. You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face.

"Eh, I'll take my chances."

Despite the unfortunate circumstances, Joel actually did rest. You thanked him with words, dinner, and a few orgasms to show how truly thankful you really were. No one had stuck up for you like that, and to have someone defend you like that...

Joel deserved more than you could ever give, but you'd try your damnedest for him.

[arcanefox207]

These are some PPCU fics I have read and enjoyed this past month and would like to recommend. Some new. Some Old. All have smut. I am going to be doing a monthly rec list going forward in an attempt to read more and help reblog and support some amazing authors out there. Please show them some love. Read all warnings! Not everything is for everyone and that is ok. Please always comment AND reblog fics you enjoy to show love to the authors 🖤

Joel Miller

Feelings on Fire // @pedropeach You're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you.

But He’s The One I Want // @wheresarizona All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch. 

Only then, I am good // @joelsdagger You have a bad day in which it makes you question your worth. only joel can make you see the truth. daddy jackson!joel x f!reader

'Tis thee Season // @joelsdagger You’re back in town for christmas, and it’s been months since you’ve seen your boyfriend, joel miller. and he decides to make the most of the brief window of time you have together or,  joel fucks you after taking viagra.

Subscribe // @joelmillerisapunk When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend

Inhale, Exhale // @sp00kymulderr This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

Dance With Me, Darlin' // @milla-frenchy You go to a club and want to fuck. So does Joel

San Angelo // @macfrog It's the summer of two thousand eight. after two weeks following his little brother cross-country on the back of a harley, Joel follows him through the doors of a dive bar where fate delivers him to you.

General Marcus Acacius

Prima Nocta // @fuckyeahdindjarin Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.

Fit For A Goddess // @ozarkthedog You wear Marcus’s gold laurel crown while he worships you.

Ezra

Little Wren // @schnarfer Wild. West. Priest. Ezra. That’s it, that’s the idea.

The Beast Within // @aurorawritestoescape Trekking the Green with his new partner, Ezra is overtaken by his need to have you. While you sleep in the camping tent, the animal within Ezra pushes him to act on his desires. Little does he know, you’ve wanted him as well.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

Nut vid with the sound on // @syd-djarin You accidentally send Frankie a text that he wasn't supposed to see.

Javier Pena

Office Hours // @itwasntimethatdidit40 You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours?

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika 🖤

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 4

Summary: Din shows you what special thing he's been wanting to do with you.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT. THE MANDALORIAN & THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT. eventual angst, slow burn, graphic depictions of wounds and violence, eventual non-con, eventual therapy speak, Grogu, Mando takes off his helmet, so much shit happens in this story.

chapter warnings: object insertion (v&a), graphic depictions of blood and guts (not sexual), and some fluff at the end.

a/n: This was very much inspired by the legendary Rough Day. It's such an incredible story and so well written. Don't have as high hopes for this, it's mostly just me being horny for Din Djarin.

a/n pt2: So, hello-- it's me, Beth. I have a couple things to say- This is when the reader and The Mandalorian's story starts. Before this chapter, the first three had been one-shots written with no intention of turning it into a story. But I did, so.... here it is. I hope you all like it.

unbeta'd, probably not proof-read because of my ADHD. still unbeta'ed, not as poorly proofread and changed slightly from ao3.

SORRY EVERYBODY ELSE

Masterlist

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"That cannot be safe."

You are staring where you think Din is standing with your mouth hanging open, jaw almost touching your chest. He has just gotten done explaining to you what he wants to do to you.

His Maker forsaken helmet is back on now and the lights are still off.

He needs to see what he’s doing for this. 

“It will be safe, I promise.” He chuckles quietly, as if that is supposed to be reassuring in a moment of vulnerability like this. “Are you ever not safe with me?” He asks that last part like his helmet might have a special mood sensor in there that tells him exactly what you're feeling.

You’re hesitant because this was unusual, even for Din.

"This could potentially be the first time," you chuckle nervously as you press your cheek to the cool metal.

If you're being honest— with Maker and yourself… what Din wants to do to you is making your apex tingle again.

Despite the nerves flowing through ever fiber of your body, you're sinking to your knees in the void. The moment your chest touches the floor of the Razor Crest for the second time tonight, you're actually thankful for the darkness. Doing something like this feels far less naughty in the dark.

"I don't want to get vaporized."

"Little one," Din runs one of his hands— which is always as hot as the sun, always— up the line of your spine slowly to comfort you. "I won't let anything bad happen to you," he rasps from behind his helmet. "I took the charge out already, besides… that happens on the other end."

The Amban rifle is long, about as long as you are tall. The non-business end is where the shoulder crook is. It’s shaped in a dramatic arch. One end is slightly longer than the other. Both ends of the arch are dull and rounded. Perfect for your shoulder to rest in when you aim.

It’s smooth and cold as Din traces it along your folds.

It surprisingly fits perfectly there as well.

"Looks so tight," his rasp is quiet, almost like he's ashamed to admit it. The tip of one of the horns is pushing against your entrance now, sliding in further and further— so slowly. "Need to see you filled."

His words make you shiver. It was clear that Din thought about you while he wasn't here… he had taken your notebook so that he could think about you all he wanted. You just never really thought about what he been imagining while looking at the pictures you had drawn of yourself in that notebook.

“It feels good?” Even through the modulator, you can hear his excitement— but it's intermingled with concern for your comfort, and that makes you melt against the hard metal of the ships floor.

You let Din know it does feel good with a content hum as he pushes the Abman's horn further into you.

It's been so long since anything has been inside you besides your own fingers and very, very recently Din's thick, long, ten billion degree digits. So long in fact, you almost forgot how delicious the stretch of something inside you feels.

You sigh happily again as the smooth, polished wood slides further into your soaked entrance. “It does feel good.” A moan as it glides against that utterly sweet spot inside you. “So good.” 

Din respires loudly as he watches the second horn of the Amban inch closer to your untouched hole. "You stretch so nicely, little one," he murmurs from under his helmet.

Sweat starts to bead across your brow as Din starts to work the first horn in and out of your wetness at the absolute perfect pace. It's not to slow, not to fast— he's allowing you to adjust while still giving you friction. To you, right now on the floor, the thrusts feel tender and sweet.

Loving, almost.

Your hips instinctively start to rock back to meet his thrusts, needing more, wanting it deeper inside of you, but that's when the second horn notches at your second hole. It hasn't penetrated you yet, but the pressure of it at your opening has you feeling rather intimidated.

Din pulls the Amban away from you. There is a moment of pause, nothing happens, and then you feel his tongue massaging against your tightest hole.

"Oh my Maker," you sigh loudly as he pushes past the ring of muscle to open and loosen you up for what he wants to see so badly.

"…would do this forever…" he murmurs from between your supple cheeks. The vibrations from his voice make you shiver and you have to bite back a smile at the sound of him unmodulated.

You wonder where the helmet is— did he take it completely off or is he just wearing it on the crown of his skull?

It doesn't really matter, you don't even really care as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. His breathless panting as he pushes two fingers into your cunt simultaneously and makes you arch your back down towards the floor, pushing your ass back against him.

"So good. S-so good," he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before he pulls away and loudly spits against your now loosened hole.

"Maker," you sigh at the obscene noise and the withdrawing of his fingers.

Din replaces the horns of the shoulder crook and slowly begins to work the first one in and out as the second tip taps your now other wet and ready hole. Slowly, he starts to push forward and you whimper at this new stretch. A different kind of feeling, it feels ludicrous. Out of place.

“Din…”

The word escapes your lips, and your fists clench in response. Through gritted teeth, you utter one long Maker as he removes the Amban from your body and rests a comforting hand on your back.

“It hurts? Are you okay?” He’s concerned. Sounding almost apologetic.

“No. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just different, go slower.” You don’t want to stop. It did feel good.

“Touch yourself while I do this.” His modulated whispers into your ear make you push back against the Amban again and it presses against your asshole again. “Touch...like the first night, please. I want to see it.”

The fact that Din remembers, and thinks about that first night the way you do… it makes your heart start to beat faster against the floor of the ship.

“Okay.” You breathe, one hand reaching for your clit. Your fingers find it and desperately start to circle and swirl around the wet mess between your legs. 

“Yes. Just like that, little one.” Din trails one finger down your spine gently, watching as you begin to play with yourself. “Fuck. You’re always so ready… and wet…” He admires you while his thrusts forward with Amban a little more aggressively now.

“You want to make yourself come while I put it in?” He whispers, dragging of his fingers back up your spine.

You nod silently.

“Was that a yes?” He’s wanting to hear you say it.

“Yes, Din, please…” You’re whining quietly as your fingers cease to stop touching your aching clit.

With more force behind his movements as his traveling hand grips one of your ass cheeks and pulls you apart so he can watch. The second horn presses against your tight hole with each thrust, he’s careful not to enter until you’re ready.

“You take it so well....” It’s a modulated whisper. "So wet--"

“Only for you,” sigh happily, feeling silly for saying it but in the moment, you don't what he thinks.

It’s true. You’ve never gotten this excited for anyone else.

Din gasps softly, you almost don’t hear it over the sounds of your fingers in your slick and the horn pushing into you over and over. “S-Say that again, p-please…”

“Only for you, Din…” You murmur with your eyes closed. Your touching had been getting you ready, your fingers had been spinning around your clit quickly— release was so close.

The thick wood horn inside you plus your fingers on your throbbing clit, and now this new sensation pressed against a new hole that’s never been explored before tonight, are all coiling something deep inside your lower belly.  

“Gonna…gonna come…” You strain the whimpers out, your body trembling right on the precipice of bliss.

Din presses his groin against the outside of your thigh and begins to move in a steady rhythm. You feel him pushing harder and faster, rubbing against you as he picks up speed.

"Oh! Oh!” You cry out, pushing your hips back as the coil inside of you snaps. “Diiiin!”

He pushes the Amban forward gently and you feel it enter you from behind. It’s a fiery pain, dulled tremendously by the bliss coming from between your legs, but it’s still pain.

A sharp intake of breath through your teeth is quickly followed by a pleasurable tightening of your inner walls around the smooth wooden horn inside. The feeling draws another loud moan from you.

Din continues to push and pull the shoulder crook in and out of you while you ride out your orgasm. You’re shoving your self back against the Amban now, wanting more, needing it deeper in your cunt while you come on it. The horn in your tighter hole stretches you wider, a new sensation, not pain or pleasure but a feeling of being completely full. You shudder on the floor of The Crest. 

“You’re s-so good,” Din sounds like he’s in awe once again. You amaze him. “Did you like that?” He asks, his modulator voice is gone and now he’s kissing your spine. When he removes the Amban from inside you, you whine at the empty feeling. The gaping feeling.

“Yes.” You pant on the floor. “So good, Din… So good.” You collapse, body fully going flat against the floor.

Din lays down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him tightly.

There is a moment of silence while he listens to you catch your breath while one of his strong, calloused fingers circle around your belly button slowly.

“I just remembered how you clean.” He whispers into your ear. “We should get off the floor.”

For a moment you’re offended, but then you remember how well you cleaned before he started touching you and you chuckle.

“I did better this time,” your hand hesitantly finds his on your stomach. He stretches his fingers wide so you can slide yours between them. “Didn’t you notice how shiny it was?”

“I didn’t notice anything besides how you looked in your beautiful dress,” he murmurs, planting gentle kisses the back of your neck.

There is only one word you have in your vocabulary to describe how you need him to kiss you: desperately. You need to feel his lips on yours, need to feel his tongue swirling against your own. You might want that more than anything else he could offer you- but you won’t tell him that.

“We should get to bed.” You whisper to him instead.

Din doesn’t say anything for a moment, he just holds you close to him with the bridge of his nose against the back of your skull. Finally, and reluctantly, he lets you go but not for long. He’s on his feet before you can even sit up, and he’s got his hands under your arms, lifting you off the ground.

You’re suspended in midair for one second before he gently sets you back down on your feet.

“Do you need help walking?” He asks as you hold your hands out in front of you, feeling for obstacles in the dark. 

“Do you not need help?” You’re snippy, stalled in the dark waiting for his response.

He’s quiet for a long time. When he does speak, it startles you. “It’s my ship…” He sounds offended that you’d even ask him such a question. 

“Fine…” You grumble as he slips his hand into yours and takes the lead.

“Here’s the ladder…” he places your hand on one of the rungs and then stands behind you. “Go on, little one. I won’t let you fall,” he whispers into your ear as you hesitate to start climbing.

There is no need to do any of this in the dark when Din isn’t here. You keep all the lights on until you’re in bed and then you make it dark. You’ve never had to climb the ladder in the void.

Surprisingly enough, you make it up to the second level with no issues. Din follows close behind and once he’s beside you, his hand is in yours again, leading you to the sleeping quarters.

You’re not shocked when he puts you into his bed and crawls behind you. 

“What happens in the morning? Hm?” You whisper curiously, turning around to face him. “Because I almost broke my nose last time… I’m not doing that again.” 

Din chuckles, slipping one hand under your cheek, the other slides to your waist, his lips touch your chin softly. “I’m always up before you.” Then he presses his lips to yours, just as lightly.

Din’s lips are soft and warm— perfect. He’s perfect. He smells faintly of oil from the engine and sweat from being stuck under his helmet all the time.

To you, right now, he smells like what a home would feel like.

“Close your pretty eyes, and let me worry, okay?” He asks with his lips still pressed against yours. He kisses you again quickly before you can really react, and then rolls onto his side. Your chest is pressed against his back and he grabs one of your wrists to drape it over his side, then holds your hand to his stomach. 

How are you supposed to sleep after that?

What?!

That was your first since long before you even got on this ship! It’s been so long since you shared a kiss with anyone. Ages it felt like!

Your first kiss with Din— and he does it twice and then just rolls over ? Din did this on purpose. You’re sure of it.

The child is what you wake up to— his little green face right in yours.

You’re still in Din’s bed, and the child is touching your lips, pushing them apart with his little clawed fingers so he can get a good look at your teeth. You let him and wonder what he’s looking for.

Then you wonder how the hell he got into the bed with you but as your head turns to inspect your surroundings, Din is standing— fully dressed in his beskar, staring down at you.

“He was fussing.” It’s said flatly. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.” He’s turning to walk away. 

“I had a long night!” You call out to him as he leaves the room. 

The child is full of energy. He wants to play. Right now. 

But you’re naked under these sheets. 

You set the child on the floor and wrap yourself up in the sheets and tuck them under your arms.

The clothes you bought yesterday aren’t where you put them when you got back from the market… and then you remember the fashion show you put on for him last night. The smirk on your face is hard to hide as you make your way into the lower level of the ship.

Once you’re down there, you turn the corner and find Din with your white dress in his hands. He’s massaging the fabric between his gloved thumb and forefinger carefully as if he can feel it through the yellow leather. He’s just staring down into the mess of crumbled, white linen in his grasp.

“I don’t know if I wanna know— I don’t think I do— but can I have those back, please?” You extend your arm for the clothing he’s holding. He turns to look at you.

“Last night…” Din walks to you slowly. “You were so beautiful in this,” he holds the dress out to you as he continues to speak. “I could look at you all the time.” He’s in front of you now, looking down at you with the dress in his hands. “Clothes. No clothes.”

“The kids awake,” you smirk up at him as you take the dress out of his hands. “Get your helmet on straight.”

“I have to leave,” He says as you're turning to walk away. “Tonight.”

“For how long?” You ask, chasing him down the hallway towards the ladder that leads up to the first floor.

“I’m unsure… possibly a couple days… maybe longer. A week—”

That’s the longest he’s been gone since you’ve been here. You turn your head over your shoulder. “A week!?”

Suddenly, Din’s sweet kisses from last night don’t seem so very sweet anymore. The feel dirty and almost like a ploy to keep you from complaining about this.

His helmet nods silently.

“Is where we’re going nice?” You ask curiously. If it is nice… then you might not care. You see him shake his head and groan in frustration. “Why!? Why do you cart the child and I around out here instead of finding us a plac-”

Din presses a gloved finger to your lips to quiet you.

“So I can keep both of you safe. You’re not safe with so many planets and stars between us.” He explains gently, trying to not upset you further. “I want you close by.” 

Even though your heart is bursting in your chest because Din wants to keep you safe, wants you close— something about him choosing to kiss you last night, knowing he was leaving for so long today makes you angry. You say nothing in response to him.

“I know you’re upset. I’m sorry.” Din apologizes.

“It’s just part of the job description.” You say coldly, turning your head to the side so you don’t have to stare back at your reflection in his helemt.

It’s hard to not be upset after the night you just shared together, the touching, the kisses, the sleeping in his bed with him all night? How could you not feel some sort of emotion after that?

Din grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning your head to look at him. “You want more money? For the job ?” With his free hand, he reaches behind his cape and pulls a fistful of credits out and pushes them into your chest forcefully. “Take them then,” he hisses through the modulator. Din pushes your chin as he pulls his hand away, and then he turns to leave. The credits scatter to the floor before you have time to catch them.

The child hears them falling noisily, and comes running to start grabbing them so he can begin putting them into his mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” You whimper through the tears pricking at your eyes, trying to get all the credits back from him. You have to stick your whole hand in his mouth to get the last one back.

With all the credits in your hands and tears in your eyes, you throw them into the hallway Din just walked down. They scatter across the floor as you scoop the child up in your arms and make your way to the second level.

Once you’re in the sleeping quarters again and the child is preoccupied with one of his new toys, you allow yourself to come undone.

Din went from calling you beautiful one moment and then next, he’s shoving credits at you like you get paid to get fucked and then treated badly. What did you do to deserve that?

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, and the child freezes seeing you in distress. He’s never seen you cry. Not one time. He watches you, his head tilting side to side slowly as you press the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

He makes a quiet cooing noise at you but you don’t look. You can’t. There are too many tears and you feel so embarrassed for being so enamored with Din lately. He’s your boss. That’s it.

This was never going to happen again. You’ll sleep on the mat forever and never even look at his bed again. You might even move to a different part of the ship. You and the child.

You feel little hands on your leg and you finally look. The child is standing beside you, his big eyes are wide and he looks concerned for you, his little fingers are gripping your leg softly. 

The child makes you cry harder, because what if Din kicks you off after this?

What if he tells you that this isn’t working and you need to go back to the casino? You’d be devastated. This child is your world now. Din had slowly started to become a part of your everything— but not anymore!

Fuck Din!

As you change into fresh clothes and wipe away the stubborn tears that refuse to stop, you carefully make the bed with clean sheets. You tidy up the ship and wash any dishes or toys that need it. The baby watches you with concern as you move around the room, struggling to control your emotions. He sticks close to you as you pace back and forth, trying to find something - anything - to occupy your mind. All of your sewing supplies are in the same room as Din, but you can't bring yourself to go there right now.

You break out your notebook and lay on the floor with the child. You give him a page and your old charcoal. You show him how to doodle. You draw him. He sees it and points to himself. You nod and clap for him. Then you draw yourself. He points to the picture of you and then touches your nose. It makes you cry again. 

All day. 

You’re in that room all day spontaneously crying, when finally, the door opens and Din walks past the two of you with no acknowledgement. You stand up, grabbing the child and leave into the room he just walked out of. 

You two sit on the floor again and you show him how you sew. You hold up the almost finished robe to him, seeing if it’ll fit. 

“You’re gonna be the most well dressed green baby on the ship.” You tell him. He coos and warbles up to you, his fingers touching the fabric of his new robe. “Do you like it?” You ask but he doesn’t respond as usual. He’s a baby.

“We should talk,” Din’s modulated voice makes you jump. He’s standing in the doorway watching you two. 

“‘Kay.” You say curtly, going back to your sewing. You don’t look at him. 

“You’re upset?” He asks softly.

You turn your head and blink at him in disbelief.

“I already gave you more cre-” He starts to say, but sees you’re trying to hold back tears. 

“I don’t want your money.” The words come out quickly before you can cry. You strain back the sob forming in your throat. “I don’t want more.” You have to look away, you don’t want him to see you cry. “Just leave me alone, please.” 

The child touches your arm comfortingly and warbles quietly at you. 

“If you’re so unhappy here, I can take you back to Canto Bight.” Din sounds so angry when he speaks from behind the modulator.

All you can do is sob loudly. It’s the only sound coming out of you.

Din is quiet for so long listening to you cry. When he speaks again, his tone is softer and quieter. More kind than before. “Are you unhappy here?”

“No. I love it here,” you weep softly. You do love it here. You blink and tears roll down your cheek again. You attempt to turn your body away from Din but he’s beside you now, kneeling with his hand on your shoulder. 

“I thought you did too…but you are crying,” he says nervously. “Happy girls don’t cry…why are you crying? Please tell me.” 

“You were s-s-s-so mean about th-the credits,” you wail. “I didn’t a-ask for m-more c-credits.” You cannot stop crying no matter how hard you try. “I d-don’t want you t-t-to take m-me back to Can-Canto B-bi-” You can’t even speak it, it makes you cry too hard. 

“You think I’m going to take you back there?” He tries to turn you to face him but you turn the other way, further away from him. “I thought you were unhappy. I didn’t think you wanted this anymore. I don’t blame you. I worry about you too much and I don’t let you leave because of it. I’m not always nice.” 

“But I care for you! And the child so much!” You wail. You scoop the child who is trying to crawl into your lap in your arms and hold him close to your chest. “I love him so much and I can’t be away from him.” You sob harder. “He’s all I’ve got now and if you take him from me it’ll kill me.” The child wraps his little arms around your neck as much as he can. Coos and baby warbles fill your ear. 

“I wasn’t-” Din is desperately trying to turn you now, both hands are on your shoulders and he’s spinning you on the smooth surface of the Crest’s floor. “-look at me.” He says it sternly enough that you listen and look up at him with bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want to take you back to Canto Bight. I don’t. You didn’t see the child when you were at the market. He missed you. Cried for you.”

“You said he had fun!” You wail again. “He cried?” You hold the child closer. 

Din chuckles. 

“I wasn’t telling you that you have to leave.” He explains after a moment of silence. “Do you still want to stay? Knowing what happens, knowing that I leave. I have to. Do you still want to be here?” 

You stare up at him for a long time. You do. You’re still sad though. At a loss for words.

“You were so cold to me. Then you called it ‘part of the job description’ so I assumed you wanted more credits. More compensation for what you do. I got mad because I thou-” He cuts himself off. 

“You thought what?” You ask nervously. He stays quiet. 

“It’s nothing. I thought you wanted more. I tried to give you what I thought you wanted.” He sighs and takes his hands from your shoulders. You can feel where the heat from his gloved hands held you. 

“What were you going to say?” Your eyes haven’t left his helmet. 

“I have to go now. When I get back we will talk more. Okay?” 

You almost start crying again but he pinches the tip of one gloved finger between his opposite index and thumb and pulls his hand free. He reaches for you with it and wipes the tears off one of your cheeks with his thumb before cupping your face in his palm

“Perfect, beautiful little one.” He rasps softly. “So perfect.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek and wipes the new falling tears. “Don’t cry. Please. Don’t cry. I’ll be back soon and we will talk about this.” You nod quickly. 

“Okay.” You sniffle softly, trying to calm the fear and sadness inside you. ‘Okay.” 

Din rests the top of his visor to your forehead softly. 

“Try and find forgiveness in your heart, for me. Please.” He keeps you there, pressed against his helmet as he speaks to you. “I’ll be thinking of you. Looking at your doodles . Waiting to see you again.” 

Then he pulls away and stands. 

“Are you staying on the floor with the child or do you need assistance getting up?” He asks, extending a hand out to you. You shake your head at him. 

“I’m gonna finish this.” You hold up the almost finished robe with one hand, the other arm is still cradling the child to your chest. He’s resting his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ll be back. Stay safe. I’ll set up the perimeter when I leave. Do not go outside of it. Please.” He rattles off his ‘Din is leaving’ list to you. You hear it every time he goes.

“You be safe. Come back in one piece.” You smile up at him softly. Din looks down at you for a long time before he speaks again.

“Perfect. Beautiful.”

Din does not come back in one piece. Well, all together yes, but he’s hanging on by threads.

In the dead of night, you are jolted awake by the sound of the ship's door opening. It has been ten days since he left, and you've been unable to sleep properly ever since. As you strain your ears, you can hear his boots hitting the ramp with uneven steps, like he's struggling to stay upright.

Jumping out of bed, not needing to turn any lights on because you can hear him banging around in the adjacent room. 

“Din.” You whisper into the darkness of the entryway. “Din, is that you?” You search for the light button on the wall desperately trying to see something. Finally, you find the small button and press it. 

You see Din facing the metal hull of the ship, leaning against it with his arms curled up over his helmet which is pressed tightly to the wall of the Crest. He’s supporting all of his weight on one leg. The other foot hovers inches above the ground.

He’s hurt.

Time feels like it stops as you rush to him. In the short amount of time it takes you to get to him, you manage to stumble over your own feet twice. When you reach him, you put one hand on his shoulder and he flinches under your touch.

“Where?” You ask nervously.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s been injured before, sure…but never like this. Never to the point where he can’t speak to you. He points to his leg, inner thigh and you kneel before him, inspecting. It’s a burn or a cut or both, you don’t know. Some of it’s been cauterized already, other parts of it are still bleeding badly. It looks so deep.

“What do I need to do? Tell me?” 

Everything about you feels like a Mimbanese mudslide. It feels like all the hard parts that keep you upright have been stolen from you. Din says nothing as you kneel in front of him helplessly. You can hear small, stifled groans of pain coming from his helmet. 

“I don’t know how to help you.” You whisper powerlessly. It’s like time has stopped and the world fell silent around just the two of you. “Tell me what to do.” You beg him. 

“Shh. Please just be quiet.” He snaps at you in frustration. He’s still got his helmet leaned against the wall.

Instead of being upset you stand, and run to get clean water and a rag. You check to make sure the child is still asleep in his bassinet. When you return he’s sitting on the bench. He’s got his beskar off and he’s leaned against the hull of the ship, still groaning through his modulator. 

“It’s going to hurt and I’m so sorry.” You warn him, taking the clean wet rag and ringing it out into the bowl of water. “Okay? Are you ready?” He isn’t watching, he’s looking up to the ceiling, choking back sobs of pain. 

“Go.” Din chokes out. You move the rag closer to his wound and his hand finds your wrist. He grabs you tightly as you hover over the bleeding mess. “S-so g–gentle. P-please.” They came out sobbed and choked on soft whispers. 

With the most feather and gentle touch you can, you start to clean it, and once the rag is covered in blood you realize you don’t have another bowl of water to rinse in. 

“I’ll be right bac--” You start but Din grips your wrist tighter to the point where it starts to hurt. “I need more water.” You explain quickly, not upset he’s holding you tightly. “I’m coming right back. I promise.” His fingers loosen on you. “I promise.”

With more speed you’ve ever used in your life you grab another bowl and more water and rush back to him. He hasn’t moved. His good leg is shaking, like he’s shivering.

“I’m back. See?” You look up at him and rinse the rag in the new bowl and watch all the dirt and blood and muck float and twirl in the water. “I came right back. Just like I said, I’m here.” You try and comfort him as you go back to cleaning him carefully. “I’m right here. Just breathe and think about us and those nights. It’ll be okay.”

Desperate to help him find some comfort in this you start rattling off whatever nice things come to your head. Nervously babbling because you can’t hold it in. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back so we can share the bed again, and I’ll hold you like I did before you left.” You're fighting back tears of fear and frustration and worry for Din. You fight them back though because this isn’t the time for tears.

Of course, he says nothing. He’s probably worried about biting right through his tongue with the grunts and groans he’s making under that helmet.

You continue to clean him up until you can start to see things that make your stomach turn inside you. Inside of his muscle and fatty tissue. Blood starts reappearing as you pat it away. You grow more fearful and nervous. 

“You need something to bandage this, where is it?” Din doesn’t answer before you’re looking around. Din points to the opposite wall and you see a small box strapped to the wall. You run to it, rip the straps from around the sides, you stumble again as you turn around and almost fall as you rush back to him. 

Everything about cleaning him and even being near him had to be so slow and so careful that when you weren’t near him you tried to make up for lost time, sometimes moving too fast for your own good. You slide a couple inches as you kneel before you even stop moving. You drop the box on the floor and your nervous fingers fumble with the snaps on the front. 

“Fuckin– c’mon, open!” You can’t get one of the snaps undone. A hidden sharp edge slices your index finger full across the length of the pad from under the rim. “Fuck!” You exclaim, looking and seeing blood pooling on your own finger now. You wipe it off on your pants and more carefully now try the stuck snap. It opens fine with your newfound care. “Fuck you.” You whisper again to the box, your finger hurts, it’s still bleeding.

“Abyssin grafting patch.” Din hisses through clenched teeth. 

Looking for what he’s talking about you find it, and set it on the bench beside him. 

“You need to take off your pants or I can cut them.” You explain, seeing that you won't be able to get the patch on without taking off his pants. The fabric was sliced through with something so hot that it melted some of the fabric to his skin. 

“Cut.” He groans, letting his helmet hit the hull with a loud clunk. You find the medical scissors and carefully peel the melted fabric away from his skin. He hisses loudly and you slow down as much as you can. You try to breathe. You let the scissors do most of the work, they’re sharp and let you cut down Din’s pant leg so you can open the fabric and get more access to him. 

“Okay. I’m gonna put it on now.” You walk him through what you’re doing as you rip open the patch from its wrapper. “You ready?” He’s still not looking down at you but he nods. 

You tenderly press the patch against his leg and watch as it fuses itself to him. You sigh with relief. He’s safe. He’s here. You fall back onto your buttocks and let your legs stretch out in front of you.

“You’re bleeding.” Din sighs when he finally takes his head away from the wall. “Why’re you bleeding?” He’s panting, pointing now to your finger. You look and there is a small circle of blood on the floor where your finger is resting. 

“I cut myself on the stupid fucking box.” You grumble, reaching for it. You grab a wipe and a small bandage. You clean yourself up and root around for what else could be in there. “Do you want the pills or the gas?” You ask, holding up a small bottle filled with capsules and a container with a mouth and nose mask attached to it. 

“Do you need either?” He asks seriously. You look at him with confusion. 

“I don’t do drugs, Din, what are you talking about?” 

“Your finger.” He points again. He’s gotta be delirious. 

“It’s just a cut, I’m fine. You’re missing some of your– the gas. You need the gas.” You decide for him. You put the canister under your arm and stand. “Can you walk?” He nods and goes to stand. You put one of his arms around your neck and shoulders, letting him put some of his weight on you. 

The two of you slowly make your way into the sleeping quarters. He’s part limping, part hopping on one foot. 

“What happened?” You whisper now within earshot of the child who surprisingly didn’t wake up for any of that. You don’t know what you would have done had the child awoken while you were panicking. 

“Fight.” He groaned quietly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. You hand him the canister. 

“I’m going to sleep in the other room tonight with the child.” He tilts his helmet up to you and starts to shake his head. “Yes. We are. You need to rest and you’re going to be knocked out with the gas. I don’t want to take any risks of you not waking up before me.” You lean forward and press your forehead to the top of his face visor. Din wraps one hand around the back of your neck. 

“I missed you.” He rasps softly. You close your eyes and keep your forehead pressed to his helmet. 

“I missed you too. So much.” He brings the other hand to your cheek and holds you to him. 

“I should sleep-” He pulls away from you and tries to stand. “-in the other room.” You put both hands on his shoulders and gently force him to sit back down. 

“You are not moving. Please. Use the gas and sleep. You can sleep in the other room tomorrow night, okay?” You tease him gently. 

“You’ll stay here tomorrow?” He asks, tilting his head to the side again. You nod. 

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for it.” You smile down at him. “But tonight you need to sleep. As long as you can. No worry of anyone seeing you. We’ll be okay,” You motion towards the baby's bassinet. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to wake up. Okay?” 

He nods up at you. You press your forehead to his helmet again and sigh. 

“Glad you’re back.” You whisper before you turn and push the baby’s bassinet into the other room. You have to come back in and grab your blankets and mat. He watches you, as you walk back and forth. 

As you pass him to leave the room for the last time he reaches for you and his fingers graze your wrist. You stop and look down at him. 

“Perfect. Beautiful.” He rasps quietly. 

You smile at him, taking his hand in yours. You bring his fingers to your lips and kiss each one gently. 

“Sleep.” You whisper to him again. 

Then you leave because he does need his rest. It kills you to leave the room and shut the door because you so badly want to run back to him and hold him while he sleeps and keep him safe but you know you can’t. You know you don’t have the willpower to not look if given the opportunity. Especially if he were to never know. You’re ashamed of it, but you know it to be true. 

Din doesn’t leave the bed for the next two days. You wait on him hand and foot, happily. Bringing him any and everything he could ask for. Laying with him when he wanted, you and the child both. You actually cooked for him. Really cooked. And didn’t even burn yourself. 

That night after the child had been put to sleep, with just the dim overhead light above his bed, you lay next to him and planted well placed kisses across his strong chest. He’s mostly smooth with just the smallest dark hairs speckled around his nipples and across his chest. The hair mostly rests in a faint line from his belly button down to below the waistband of his pants. 

“I think about you all the time.” You whisper between kisses. “You’re on my mind all day long. You’re in my dreams at night.” His arm is behind you, his fingers rubbing up and down on your back. 

“Really?” He asks, tilting his helmet to the side. You nod at him and lay your head on his stomach gently. “Good things I hope?” He rests the flat of his palm on you. Feeling his warmth, you sigh and nod again.

“Very good things.” You smile. 

In moments like this, you hate the helmet. You hate it so much. 

There are other times that you forget he can take it off; when you talk normally or argue but in moments like this, where you speak so gently to each other and the things each of you say sound like things out of a love story read to you as a child of princesses and princes’.

“I’m sorry if I scared you that night.” He whispers, his fingers press into softly. “I didn’t mean to. I would have done it myself. I always do.” His hand goes back to moving up and down on your skin. You listen. “You did a good job though. Really, I’ll have to pay you more credits now.” He tickles along your side gently and you frown. “ Nurses get paid more.” He teases you. 

Giggles escape your mouth as he starts to tickle the frown off your face. 

“Stop, stop. The kid," you whisper, sitting up from his stomach. 

“Beautiful.” He says softly, moving his hand to your cheek, his thumb rubs across your lips gently. You kiss it with each pass of his thumb. “Perfect.” 

“Why do you say those things?” You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not perfect.” It’s said with a hint of sadness, because you know you’ve been having terrible wishes of him losing his helmet or forgetting it and you just seeing him because you have to know. You pang with guilt every time you look at it lately.

Din doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just rubs his thumb across your lips slowly, sometimes pulling your bottom lip down gently and he lets it pop up back against your top lip. You're hypnotized by it. You lean in against his hand. 

“I think about kissing you every day.” He whispers to you. “I love your mouth. Your lips.” 

Your head starts to buzz. Did you hear Din correctly when he just said he loved something about you?

Maker, you must be about to meet right now because this cannot be real. You’re snapped back from your buzzing thoughts when Din speaks again. 

“Does it make you feel nice?” His hand falls from your face, and you almost fall over into him, not realizing how much you had been leaning into his hand. “When I call you those things?”

“Sometimes. Most times.” You whisper honestly. You don’t like lying to Din. 

“Why not every time?” He asks gently, taking one of your hands in his. 

“Because, I’m not. I don’t always want–” You think about how you want to say it, so it doesn’t come out wrong. “I sometimes am selfish with the thoughts I have about you.” He tilts his helmet to the side. 

“You– Ther– I-I.” He has to clear his throat. “You know that th-” He sighs softly in frustration. “You’re the only one. No need to be selfish.” He laughs nervously. 

In love. You thought it was infatuation but you love him. So damn much. Especially right now. Maybe you only love him right now, you didn’t know. You haven’t been in love before. You’ve definitely never felt this way. Not the feeling you feel right now in your heart. But it’s shadowed quickly by the fact that you’re still feeling guilty. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckle at him softly and squeeze his hand. “Sometimes what I want wouldn’t be good or nice to you.” You try to explain nicely in a way that doesn't sound like; take your helmet off. I don’t care what happens. I wanna see. 

He tilts his head to the side again, still not understanding.

“You… want bad things to happen to me?” His modulated inflection makes you chuckle again. 

“No,” You’re still chuckling, shaking your head. Then you stop. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know if what I wish for would lead to bad things. Or cause you harm. I know it’d make you disappointed. ” You try and get him to remember the conversation about the helmet, right after he bought you a new notebook for taking your old one. 

“Ohh.” He whispers to you, nodding in understanding. 

Then it’s quiet. For so long, Maker, how is this man so quiet for so long?

“I know it’s not nice of me to wish and want those things. I can’t help it though. My mind and heart wonder. It’s never wishing those things upon you either. I just know they might be an effect of what I want. So technically, yes I do want bad things to happen to you.” You talk nervously. Trying to listen to something other than nothingness. You joke to try and lighten the mood. Nothing works. He stays quiet for so long. 

It’s very aware you’ve made him feel something. You’re not sure what it is yet. 

“You can’t be upset with me.” He says finally. His raspy voice scares you in the silence. You jump but he squeezes your hand. “Promise you won’t be upset?” 

Unsure if you can actually make that promise, you nod your head at him and bite your bottom lip nervously. 

“The child is more than just a child.” He starts. Your heart is racing for a new reason now. “It’s so difficult to explain… but I need to take him, and I need you to stay here.” You rip your hand from his and pull it into your lap.

“You’re taking him from me?” You whisper softly in shock. Din shakes his head quickly. 

“I’m going to bring him back… eventual-” You hold your hand up.

“How long?” Your chin starts to tremble. 

“I don’t know. I really don’t. And I’m sorry. If I knew you two were going to get attached like this I would have never asked you to do this.” He tries to explain.

“You’ve known this whole time that you were going to have to take him!?” It’s a strained whisper of disbelief. “Where are you taking him?” 

“He has to learn the way of the Jedi. I’m taking him to Luke Skywalker.”

You gasp audibly. 

“The Luke Skywalker?” You ask again in disbelief. You've heard stories about him since you were a child.

“Yes. He’s going to teach the child how to use the force, how to be stronger.” Din explains. 

“I’m going. I don’t care what you say or if you have to try and tie me to the Crest. I don’t care. I’m going with you this time.” 

Din sighs loudly. 

“And I’m staying with him.”

“No. You cannot do that.” He tries to grab your hand again but you pull it away. 

“Why not? Why can’t I stay? He’s a baby and he needs someone to care for him. Do you think Luke Skywalker is going to care for him the way I do? The way we do?” You’re still whispering but you are exasperatedly trying to prove your point. Your hand is now pointed at the baby’s bassinet. “Is Luke Skywalker going to make sure that all the bugs he eats don’t have stingers on them? Is he going to give him a bath every night before bed and change his robes and do all the things we do for him?” 

You’re upset that you never asked what Din was doing out in the galaxy while you stayed cooped up in the ship. You always thought that he was just a bounty hunter with a green baby and now you find out that this green baby has always had a destination in mind that you didn’t know about? Your heart was breaking in your chest. 

“You can come with me but you cannot stay.” He’s serious and it makes tears burn your eyes. 

“Will you ever get him back? Will I ever see him again?” Something new comes into your head and you’re fighting back the urge to ask about it. 

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. I need to take him to Luke.” 

“And then what?” You implore nervously. 

“What do you mean?” Din asks, reaching for your hand again. You let him take it and hold it in his. 

“What happens to me?” Tears roll down your cheeks. “Just don’t l-leave me b-back on Canto B-bight. P-please take me an-anywhere else.” You’re drawing in big gulps of air between each sobbed word. Din squeezes your hand tightly.

“I’m n– I’m not leaving you?” He doesn’t understand what you mean, 

“Without the ch-child what g-good am I to you?” You sob softly.

“You hold a place in my heart. I care for you dearly. I’d still pay you to clean, now you know how to nurse me back to health.”

“I’d do it for free.” You whisper through quiet sniffles.  

Din stays quiet for a long time. 

“You want to stay with the child?” He ask, his hand cupping your face again. 

Eyes have never moved so fast in history the way your eyes flick to Din. 

“Is it an option?” You ask softly, leaning into his hand, the burning hot heat of him overtakes the rest of your face and you’re hot, but it’s so good. Because it’s his heat. Din’s body pressed against yours. 

“If it’s what you desire. I’ll make it an option.” Din’s raspy modulated voice says quietly. “I’d do it for you.” 

“Why? What were you going to say the other day before you left?”

Din presses his thumb to your lips gently, quieting you. “Yes or no?” 

All you can do is nod.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I love all your comments and tags and sweet words. Thank you to anyone showing support on this story and me in general.

What does this metal man have in store for you?? What's gonna happen??

[baronessvonglitter]

Quiet in the Woods

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: You've mouthed off to Joel one too many times. He finds a way to shut you up and release some frustration.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. The whole thing reeks of dub con. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Unprotected piv. A couple of clit slaps. Name calling (slut). Orgasm denial. Rough sex. Belly bulge. Breeding kink if you squint. Facial. Come eating. Slight teabagging. Panty gagging. Nipple play. Breast slapping. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Squirting. Overstimulation. Veiled threat of gang rape. Mean, snarky, frustrated Joel and bratty reader. Reader has breasts and vagina but is otherwise undescribed. No use of y/n. Joel's POV.

Author's note: This was the fic that burrowed its way into my brain last week and I may have made Joel more mean that I intended, but I think the majority of us can say we love him that way.

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Joel, are you crazy? We're in the middle of nowhere, what if-"

He cuts you off with his heavy hand clamping down over your mouth, quickly following with a easy slide of the first few inches of him into your warm and wet cunt. Your moan vibrates against his palm, and when your hips tilt up, a wordless offering of yourself, he presses deeper, two more hitched thrusts until he's bottomed out, cock nestled nicely between your puffy pussy lips, your cotton panties pushed unceremoniously off to the side.

You hadn't needed much to get you going. Shit, you were wetter than Niagara Falls once he'd teased you with his fingers. And with the necessity of staying quiet he needed to be quick as well. 

A hasty check of the surroundings and he's focused on you again, grunting as you squeeze around him. From the look in your eyes he knows you're just trying to get him to cum, and not in a 'you really need this, Joel, please use my tight little pussy to relieve some stress, and oh by the way, thank you for being so selfless and guiding me through the apocalyptic wilderness, you're the best!' kind of way.

No, you're definitely pulsing your tight little hole around him to tease him, to goad him into shooting his load, and he isn't going to give you the satisfaction..

He pulls out leisurely, making sure you feel every inch in the sweet, slow drag of his cock, until just his tip is at your soft, welcoming entrance. He taps the broad crown of his dick onto your nether lips and grins when you whine under his clamped hand. 

"Be. Good." He slaps your clit with his cock, emphasizing each word.

You mumble something under his palm and he pretends he can't understand you as he pushes back in, letting you feel the entirety of him in one go. "Good and quiet, little slut," he grunts, setting a vicious pace.

One leg of your jeans is still on, your bare leg hooked over his shoulder, foot still in its boot, laces dangling untied. Joel spreads your other leg, wanting you spread wide so he can see himself ramming you.

He pulls your shirt down, freeing your tits from the bra cups, using it for leverage, watching your tits bounce with every rough thrust. Beneath him you're moaning in time with each merciless snap of his hips.

Joel does another quick check, slowing as he does so, and as he's distracted a moment he catches too late that you've snuck your hand down to your clit to rub yourself, get you there faster.

"I don't think so," he utters, moving your hand away. "Keep your hands up over your head. I can't fuckin' do everythin' for ya." You grumble beneath his palm but do as you're told.

Something primal in him is pleased when you obey him, but he knows you well enough to suspect you may have a trick up your sleeve. You can still coerce him with your cunt, which is now currently stuffed with him, the wet and slimy sounds of your slick unmistakable proof that you wanted this long before you got on the ground.

"This is what you get," he punctuates those words with jabbing thrusts, "when you don't. Stop. Runnin'. Your. Fuckin'. Mouth."

Fuck being quiet. Joel needs to taunt you, lord it over you that you're spread out beneath him, folding easier than a cheap lawn chair. You were probably getting under his skin just so you could get under him.

He knows it's safer in this sparse area of woods rather than that little trail by the river where you'd first started bitching about your feet hurting, or was it your head.. point is, he found a better use for you, one that suits his needs and will shut you the fuck up for once.

He watches your eyelids flutter, the way your body tenses when he knows he pushes in too deep, too close to that soft and tender part. Just to fuck with you he lets the tip of him brush against it, the head giving it a couple light kisses, watching you squirm in both pleasure and pain. "Dead end, huh sweet cheeks? C'mon, you know you like it. You ain't never been a 'just the tip' kinda gal." 

Joel places his free hand on your belly, just at the waistband of your panties. "Feel 'im in there? Givin' him a nice lil' home, aintcha? C'mon, feel 'im." He takes one of your hands and presses it down to the bulge in your belly that grows as he thrusts home. 

"Your thighs are quakin', baby. You close?" His voice is almost mellifluous in its teasing, and he laughs when you glare at him. "Hey, you started this. Knew you'd end up under me one day if you kept yappin' and complainin'."

You growl beneath his palm and he tightens his grip on you just a bit, enough of a warning. I can fuck you or you can risk getting us killed. You must have decided on the former, because you become so sweetly pliant beneath him again, your hips moving against his, his hand vibrating with your muffled cries.

For a flash of a moment he considers burying himself deep in you as he comes, painting your walls with every drop that's been storing up in his balls, giving it all to you whether you want it or not, and watching it slowly dribble out of your wrecked pussy. He'd love that. Probably even get hard again just at the sight of it.

But you're already annoying enough on your own, and such a fucking yapper that he knows he won't risk putting a baby in you - just one more mouth to feed and one more thing that won't shut up.

"Fuck," he grumbles as he realizes he can't hold back any longer. He moves up and kneels over your chest, stroking his cock, sticky with your creamy mess. Eyes shut tight he works himself until that tingly feeling creeps up into his balls and he opens his eyes just in time to see his cum squirting onto your face, your own eyes shut tight, lips pressed together in a frown. 

He doesn't stop until he's covered your entire face, pleased with the way it starts to drip down the sides and into your hair, down your chin. Only when he's empty and his dick softens does he smile down at you. "Lookin' so pretty like that. Keep your eyes closed, now. Got a little somethin' on ya." You open your mouth to sass him and some of it slips between your lips. Joel chuckles as he watches you greedily stick out your tongue, seeking more of his taste.

"Somethin' better than Chef Boyardee, ain't it?" he teases, knowing you're growing tired of eating expired tinned food. "Plenty more where that came from, darlin'," he says, plopping the heft of his ballsack on your lips and growling when your pink tongue pokes out to lick it. "All right, enough," he grunts, stuffing himself back in his boxers and jeans. He's not about to let you take the upper hand and get him hard again.

He takes out his knife and cuts off the remains of your panties. "Not like you'll need these much anyway," he says, imagining bending you over in front of a tree whenever he takes a notion, just to get it out of his system. It's really the only thing you're good for.

In a rare show of gentleness he wipes his cum off your face with your panties, both of your fluids combining, absorbing in the material. "Better now?" he smirks when you open your eyes and fix him with a death glare. "Uh-uh," he whispers, silencing you with his finger. "Quiet. Just fuckin' nod."

Still glaring, you nod.

"And say, 'thank you, Joel.'"

"Fuck y-"

He cuts you off with his hand over your mouth. "I know why you're so ornery, darlin'. You ain't come yet, huh? How.. ungentlemanly of me," he says drily. "Open up," he instructs you, and stuffs your panties, smeared with your arousal and his come, into your mouth to quiet you.

"I'll be nice this one time," he says, moving down your body. He briefly thinks of kissing his way down, but he doesn't want you to think he's the romantic type. Who has time for that? He does however swirl his tongue over your nipples, your breasts still on display from where he'd pulled your bra down earlier. He sucks them each greedily, using his teeth to get them nice and hard, then slaps them to watch then jiggle, and to watch you squirm under him.

"You're just full of kinks, aintcha? How the fuck you think a kink is gonna serve you out here in the wilderness?" A few more slaps of your supple flesh and he moves down between your thighs again. Your cunt is still drenched.

"Don't even gotta rev up the engine again," he says in admiration, swirling one finger around your sopping, wrecked hole. "Not that I'd mind. It's kinda fun seein' ya all worked up and ain't nothin' you can do about it."

Joel dips his head to your quivering cunt, watching it clench around nothing. "Always needs somethin' stuffed in there, don't she?" he smirks. "Consider yourself lucky I'm feelin' generous today."

He presses two thick fingers in, hearing your muffled moan, noticing the greedy tilt of your hips. "You look so pretty like that, y'know.. I oughta find a way to gag ya permanently." He starts pistoning his fingers before you can try to utter a word, and soon you're putty in his rough hands.

"You're mad at me, I know," he says soothingly. "But you must like what I'm doin', else you'd be fightin' me, using what strength you got to push me to the ground. Little sunflower, you like this." And he pushes his hand violently, grinning at how wet you are, the glossiness evident on your inner thighs. "Hear how she's rejoicin'?" he says over the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he plunges his fingers in over and over. 

He bows his head between your legs, tasting you, tickling your clit with his tongue, adding the sweet little pressure he'd kept you from exploring for yourself just moments ago. Your body bucks beneath him, your cries still muffled, and he imagines how needy and loud they'd be if he didn't want to attract attention. 

A spray of liquid hits him, only making him go faster, eager to see how many more times you can squirt as he wipes his face with his flannel sleeve. "There she is," he mutters, keeping up the pace. "You didn't really need to stop for water earlier, I can tell you're plenty hydrated. Ha, well, were." He makes a mental note to give you some of his own canteen water once you're done. Just because he doesn't want you passing out on him.

You come two more times under Joel's relentless fingers, only warding him off when you twist your body away, crying due to oversensitivity. 

"Aw, that's all?" he feigns disappointment. "Did real good, sweetie. But stay on my good side. I won't hesitate to loan you out to some raiders if you start gettin' mouthy again, hear me?" He removes your panty gag and helps you to stand, watching as you arrange your clothing.

"Hey, hey, don't gimme that look," he warns. "You were askin' for it. Now.. you gonna be good?"

You nod.

"And quiet. Repeat it."

He relishes the evil glare you give him, and if looks could kill he'd be dead on the spot. "Quiet," you repeat with an icy tone.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

tagging those interested from the wip: @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @slimybeth69 @almostfoxglove

@almostempty @604to647 @sunshinehaze1

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Office hours.

Pairing: modern!Javier Peña x f!reader Words count: 3059 Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours? Tags: porn with very little plot, modern setting (they have computers and chats), POV second person, reader is described wearing a skirt, blouse and heels & having pussy and breasts, no other description of her is given, Javier is an unhinged menace and has a filthy mouth but so is reader, dirty talk, teasing, improper use of office chat, cockwarming, masturbation (f!receiving), pet names, slurs, pussy pronouns, mention of a sex toy, no Spanish because I don't really want to butcher another language since I am doing this extensively with English 💀, squirting, sexual activities in a public place, no age gap, age unspecified so it’s up to you (they’re both in their 30s in my head), the work they do is not specified so you can imagine what you want. I think it’s all? If I realized that I forgot something I’ll add it right away.

A/N: This is the second time I've tried to write Javi P and I'm terrified but because it came out on its own in a frenzy: here we gooo. I'm ovulating and I'm horny af. LOL It probably doesn't make sense, I don't have a beta reader, I reread it myself but my eyes are tired, English is not my first language so I ask your forgiveness if you find mistakes. I hope you like the dirty talk of this thing, I feel like it came out particularly well…fingers crossed.

You should really focus on your work, you have a deadline to meet tomorrow and you're still behind. And you certainly can't focus with a certain coworker in front of you. When they decided that you had to share a big office you secretly decided that your boss was an idiot. How productive could you have been with Javier Peña sitting at the desk in front of you? Obviously your boss expected you both to be adults, capable of controlling your own instincts. What you thought instead was that it would be the hell that it actually is. Because Javier is a charming bastard and you have had a crush on him since day one and he's definitely the type to flirt with all the women in the office.

You hate his guts and you fight practically all the time over any little inconvenience, but the creeping attraction between you, that feeling of always being on the edge of a cliff, that constant urge to provoke him to see which one of you would crack first never left. 

And today, when he showed up in yet another shirt that left his chest partially exposed-because the bastard in question wasn't the least bit interested in buttoning the last few buttons-and those damn skinny jeans straight from the ‘70 that on anyone would have looked silly and anachronistic but on him did nothing but send you into a frenzy of desire, you felt it might be the last straw.

Appropriate office attire does not exist for him, he only wears a tie for meetings with your boss but the rest of the time he dresses as he wants and apparently no one says anything to him. Fucking great, just what you need, seeing his chest displayed right in front of your eyes all the damn time.

You never even liked mustaches but now you couldn't help thinking how much you wished they would rub against your folds as he lapped at your cunt. You dreamed of him carrying your scent on him for the rest of the day, dreamed of kissing him and tasting you on his tongue.

You dreamed of getting up and going to sit on his lap as you continued to type the report you promised your boss and his cock rubbed against your thighs, your panties, and even better your bare pussy. You thought about it practically all morning and got so wet that you risked wetting your office chair, so much so that on your lunch break you had to hide in one of the bathroom stalls and take them off, to store them in a bag inside your purse. 

But now you are naked under your skirt. Which is even worse and makes things even harder for you. You jotted down in your mind that it was time to think about bringing a change of underwear with you. Now the fact that Javi was on the other side of the room was even more unbearable than before, setting you on fire. The temptation to do something stupid and make yourself a needy fool was eating you up. 

Javi looks up for a moment from the documents he is working on, casting one of his typical glances at you, big brown captivating eyes that stare at you many times during the day, only for a few seconds at a time. Minutes of each day flow so slowly when he is in front of you. You really shouldn't think about him; you're here to work. In theory. And you need this damn salary if you don't want to live without electricity or run out of food. The selfish asshole in front of you however doesn't seem to care that you will probably be fired soon and end up under a bridge, because he continues to tease you in any way he can. One day it's a quip about your nail polish, the next about your overly revealing blouse, the next about the length of your skirt. And then there are those glances, sometimes accompanied by a wink, mischievous smirks, a tilt of his head, little things that no one ever notices but you. He never pushes the envelope, but oh, by now you know he wants to. A week ago he asked you if you wanted to have a drink after work, and you said no, absolutely not, never mix business and pleasure, it was a very strict policy in your department. 

You regretted it right away, but what else could you have done? He's not someone you can trust.

He didn't push further, of course, which made you even more impatient, nervous, incredibly horny.

It's a challenge now, you have to have him. And you have to have him before your female colleagues, at least the ones on your floor. You always notice how they look at him, languid and sweet eyes, lip licks and lower lip nibbled, hair moved behind their ear, every time he walks down the hallway of your floor, there is no lady who doesn’t stop working at least for a moment to marvel at him.

It’s late now, the sun has long since gone down, almost everyone around you has been gone for at least 30 minutes, but you have been distracted all morning and now you have to catch up. You hoped he would leave with the others but he stayed here. You’re doomed at this point, you can’t even think straight anymore. You know there’s some other colleagues three offices ahead, down the hall, whom you saw five minutes ago when you got up to get a cup of coffee. As you reread what you wrote, with your eyes fixed on the computer screen, you can't get him out of your mind, feeling his eyes on you, heat blazing under your skin. You turn toward the door in a clumsy attempt to avoid his gaze, realizing that you have closed it.

And well, after all, you've been working hours, maybe you can take a little break. Just five minutes. And what better to do in those five minutes than tease Javi? 

You don't mind playing and playing with him seems almost natural and physiological given his constant attempts to sabotage your self-control; perhaps you could try to sabotage his a little without risking too much.

So you open your legs. Just a little bit, just enough to show him that you're not wearing panties. 

And you look at him, without saying anything. Javi licks his lips, you know his eyes have caught in full what you wanted him to see. His jaw tenses, his hand clenches into a fist over the papers he is examining. Little imperceptible reactions that you crave like water in the middle of a desert. 

Until the chat banner you use to communicate with colleagues lights up on your desktop. 

“I can smell you from here.” it says. The sender is obviously that bastard you share an office with. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you quietly type. 

After a few seconds another message appears.

"Your delicious pussy, of course, you tempting little slut." You turn to look at him who is totally deadpan.  

You click your tongue and type, “You should be thinking about your work, not my pussy, you know? Highly unprofessional. I should go straight to someone in HR and report you”

“Oh yeah? And so you want everyone to know that you come to work without underwear. Typical greedy slut behavior." 

You lean against the desk, pretending to be shocked at first, looking at him with disappointment. A small smile creases the corners of his mouth, a hint of teeth between his lips, his eyes fiercely twinkling, he is convinced he has made you uncomfortable. 

Smiling in turn, savoring the taste of victory, you lower a hand between your legs, grazing your now totally soaked folds.

His eyebrows rises slightly, his eyes fixed on your fingers moving slowly over your outer lips. 

You type “I think you like what you see” With your other hand. 

He swallows, lowering a hand to his jeans in turn. You lean against the back of the chair to get a better look and clearly catch the tent that is growing under the crotch. He bites his lower lip, one hand moving up and down over his bulge and the other typing on the computer keyboard. 

“I bet you don't have the guts to come over here and make my cock feel that tight pussy of yours.”

Okay, you think, if you want to play dirty that's what you're going to get. 

You look around, listening to every little noise from the other rooms, the office seems empty and quiet. 

You close your eyes, just a moment, before grabbing some papers from your desk, getting up and walking toward him, swaying on your heels. 

What you've been dreaming of doing all morning is about to happen, you feel yourself floating like in a bubble.

He unbuckles his belt and pulls down the zipper of his jeans, freeing his huge shaft as he stares at you.

He turns his wheeled office chair toward you and you straddle him. 

He grabs your hips gently pushing you down on his cock, the tip grazing at your folds “such a slut” 

“If anyone here is a whore it's you. Do you think I don't know that you're getting off with half the accounting department?”

“Mh, maybe you should inform your pussy, she seems to have lost the memo judging by how much she's dripping on me.”

He holds his cock with one hand as you lower yourself onto him, looking down to where your pussy and his cock are coming into conjunction.

“Oh please shut up, I don't give a shit about your office banter.” 

You drag this out for months, days upon days of longing and teasing and nights spent in bed imagining that he was the one sucking you off instead of your toy.

You lean down holding his shoulders and whisper in his ear, “Stuff it all in.’” and you start rubbing yourself against him, feeling his huge dripping cock all inside your cunt. He stays still. 

You moan lightly and he shushes you "you have to be quiet honey, do you want us to be caught? Do you want them to notice that you are cockwarming me instead of working?”He places one of his hands on your mouth, your stifled moans vibrating on his fingers as you grind until your cream is leaking down his balls, his jeans, making a mess on his chair.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet” he murmurs thrusting a little and starting to hump his whole dick inside, he reaches your clit with two fingers and starts moving them slowly in circles over it “she’s squeezing me so right, baby, I can go on for hours just like that, stuffing you full with my cock” His other hand is resting on your hip, just above the waistband your skirt and he holds you close to him. 

He pulls out a little and pounds it back in, making you writhe and moan “Fuck yeah, you hear it? Your noisy sticky little cunt gushing for me? It’s like a fucking symphony” he whispers 

Your whines vibrate on his fingers “oh baby, you really have to learn your manners. I said keep quiet.” He removes his hand from in front of your lips and sticks two fingers in your mouth “suck these. Maybe you'll learn to be quiet with your mouth full. Or should I fill that one with my cock too?”

You suck them greedily, feeling the taste of your pussy spread over your tongue. “That’s right, baby, just like that”

You hear the main floor door slam, the last people have also left, you are now alone and his cock is buried inside you.

“Jesus, look at the mess you’ve made on me, sucking my cock in like the desperate little slut you are… you wanna come, huh?” 

You nod, as your tongue swirls on his digits, licking and sucking enraptured by your taste and his gaze locked on yours. 

“Yeah, I bet you want this cock to pound you senseless, am I right?” 

You nod again, feeling your heart raging behind your ribcage. 

You never felt so desperate for anyone, the way he’s torturing you, his cock deep down inside you without moving an inch, your pussy drenched, his precum smearing all over your walls mixing with your fluids. 

You feel delirious. 

“I know baby but not here.” He whispers mischievously and your eyes are almost on the verge of tears “you can come tho, let me help but you have to be very quiet for me, okay?” 

You think the office is empty, but you can't be sure, there are so many rooms and someone could still be inside.

He slides his fingers out of your mouth and puts them back on your clit, starting to rub it gently. They are coated in your saliva and slide pleasantly over it, sending you almost over the edge. 

“Look how swollen she is, poor little cunt, she wants to come so badly, isn’t she?” his low hoarse voice gravels in your ears as he pinches your clit and begins to jerk it off faster. 

You writhe trying to stand up a little to ease your numbed legs but he pins you down on his cock digging his fingers in your hip “nah, you stay where you are, honey, gonna come full of me and at the pace of my fingers” 

You bite your lower lip hiding your face in the crook of his neck “no, look me in the eyes, I want to see that pretty face while you come like a whore for me”

One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck as you force yourself to look in his eyes. They are black with lust and desire, pupils dilated and fixed on yours in a frenzy.

His fingers move faster and faster, his cock throbs inside you.

“Come apart for me, babe, let me feel your greedy cunt squirting for me, come on” 

His words are enough to send you over the edge, you come copiously squirting on top of him as he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, you’re so fucking beautiful right now” 

You strive to keep your eyes on him but eventually throw your head back overwhelmed by the heat spreading inside you, enveloping every cell in your body and pulsing uncontrollably in your veins. 

It’s too much, it’s all too much and he didn’t even fuck you properly yet. 

You collapse onto his shoulder, holding onto his neck, panting against his skin “Fuck” 

“Yeah, baby, I know, that’s what you wanted huh? Coming full of me like a bitch in heat?” 

You look into his eyes and whisper, “Oh, no, I want so much more.” 

“Oh yeah? What else do you want?” He grins.

“Take me home. Now.” 

“Ask nicely, baby” 

You huff “Take me home, Javi, please” 

He chuckles “Hungry little thing, what do you want me to do for you once we get home?” 

You sigh and then looking into his eyes defiantly whisper “I want you to fuck me, I want you to fuck me so hard that I scream, I want the whole neighborhood to hear me. I want your cock pounding inside me all night”

He clicks his tongue and replies, “So cheeky asking me to take you home and fuck you while my cock is still inside you.”

“That’s what I want, do you think you can do that for me?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. 

“Of course. You chose the right man for the job.” 

He slaps your ass before you stand up and fix your clothes as best you can. His jeans are completely covered in your juices and his cock still rock hard, you hope that no one is really there or they will notice what you have done.

“Here, put this around your waist,” you say, handing him your black cardigan. 

He looks down at his jeans, laughing. “Damn, you made a real mess. I think I’ll have to get rid of that chair, too.”

He wraps your cardigan around his waist so that the sleeves hang down the front, almost completely covering the dark, wet stain.

“Let’s get out of here” 

You take a deep breath, turning the doorknob down and looking out into the hallway, you look left and right and there doesn’t seem to be anyone “come on, let’s hurry” you say waving and he chuckles behind you. You walk out the door in silence, walking down the hallway to the front door.

You press the elevator button while he pinches your ass “stop it” you hiss. 

You enter the elevator, side by side, and as the doors are about to close, a hand reaches between them, stopping them. 

Your boss enters and looks at you in surprise. “Oh, you’re still here?” 

You’re screaming internally as you struggle to keep a poker face and reply calmly “Yes, of course. I had to work on that report and Javier offered to help me out.” 

Your boss nods, completely unaware. “Good, I expect it to be on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

You nod, lying, “yeah sure, definitely, it's practically over.” as you hear Javier stifle a laugh. 

You turn to give him a disapproving look as he covers his mouth and looks down to quell his giggles.

You arrive at the lobby in the longest elevator ride of your life.

“See you tomorrow then, have a good evening” Your boss says as soon as you three come out. 

“Good evening” you babble thanking God he didn't notice anything.

“Oh shit, that was a close call!” Javier laughs as soon as your boss gets in the car.

You slap him on his shoulder “does that sound funny to you? Come on, take me home and make me forget that I just risked losing my job”

“I can’t wait, honey,” he puts his arm around your waist as he walks you to his car. 

Sure, you don’t know what’s going to happen and you don’t know if it’s worth it but you can’t wait to ride him on a bed and forget your name too.

general tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @pedrostories 🌹

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

the killing moon

series masterlist

pairing: serial killer!Max Phillips x f!reader

warnings: explicit, dark, death, blood, torture, murder, explicit descriptions of said things, manipulation, smut, corruption kink, blood kink, sadism, masochism, more detailed warnings at the beginning of every chapter

summary: Max doesn't get a kick out of his nightly, murderous activities anymore and he would do anything to not be bored out of his mind from now on until eternity. then you appear, so lively and pure. the perfect little fawn for him to hunt down, devour, destroy. what could possibly go wrong?

a story for the those who love vampires for what they are: obsessive killers with a weird, remaining shred of humanity and questionable morals. for those who like a fucked up reader. and for those who are a little fucked up themselves.

ch I: written in blood

ch II:

ch III:

playlist here

general masterlist here

dividers: @saradika-graphics

[perotovar]

before a mirror — drabble

moodboard by @yopossum

pairing: jack daniels/marcus pike rating: PG content: fluff, jack and his never ending list of petnames, flirting, general cuteness word count: 626 dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily)

a/n: written for @yopossum 's mootboard and minifics celebration!! thank you for letting me be a part of it and congrats, honey ♥

masterlist | follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

New York was like a second home to Jack.

The first would always be Kentucky, where his mama made the best pecan pie, and where he first learned to ride a horse. It’s also where Statesman headquarters is, but Jack wasn’t so lucky to be there. He’d been stationed at the New York office for years now and had gotten used to the unsavory sounds and people.

But New York had a lot of good things as well.

For one, not that Jack would ever admit it out loud, New York had a lot of amazing museums. He had a soft spot for the paintings, and when he had quiet moment, he’d pop over to a museum nearby to take a walk.

Jack’s favorite painting was of a nude woman, standing in front of a mirror. He didn’t know the meaning behind it or what it was meant to depict, but it spoke to him. The colors were both rich and warm as well as cool and standoffish.

“Woman before a Mirror by Toulouse-Lautrec, 1897,” a smooth voice hummed next to him. Jack turned toward the man, an easy smirk creeping onto his face as he recognized who it was. “Post-Impressionism.”

“Swear, y’must be an encyclopedia of art, Pike,” Jack chuckled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the tight denim he wore.

Marcus rolled his eyes and snorted. “It’s literally my job,” he shrugged.

“Details.”

The two had met a few times. Marcus’ job often led him up north to take care of a few cases and Jack didn’t get a chance to go out into the field much anymore. Not unless something big happened or came up.

“Which street food catch yer fancy this time?”

“There’s a really good hot dog stand down the street, might go there after this.”

“And what’s this today, sugar sweet?” Jack smiled. He hadn’t looked away from the painting yet, not until it took Marcus a second to answer. That was something he really appreciate about Marcus Pike. He always made sure he said exactly what he was thinking. He was very focused, to the point. Jack wished he could be a little more like that sometimes.

When he turned his head toward Marcus, his breath caught in his throat a little. It always shocked him to see Marcus up close like this; he had such a striking profile and intense, but sweet eyes.

“Just taking a walk, actually. I’m on my lunch,” Marcus grinned.

“No kiddin’? So am I.”

“I know. You always come here around this time.”

“You keepin’ tabs on me, Pike?” Jack smirked.

Marcus shrugged, smiled, and didn’t answer, looking back at the painting. “And if I am?”

Normally, this would raise suspicion for Jack, but given Marcus’ line of work he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about. Statesman had every law enforcement officer’s information, including their undercover identities, so he knew Marcus Pike was cleaner than clean.

“Well, angel eyes, I think I’d ask ya what ya had planned, then.”

“Come with me. I’ll get you one of those hot dogs,” Marcus winked, turning toward Jack and looking him over. Jack felt a chill run down his spine.

He looked back at the painting and took it in one more time. The colors and the mood washed over him, briefly taking him to a time period he’d never known. He wondered what Marcus saw when he looked at this painting. He’ll have to ask him sometime.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirtin’ with me, Pike,” Jack hummed. He watched as Marcus walked toward the entrance of the exhibit and back out into the main hall.

Marcus looked at the cowboy over his shoulder and grinned. “And if I am?”

[rivnedell]

hi there ! ✨

I'm what we could call a tumblr dinosaur, holding this blog for over 11 years now. Rivendell being my second home after Earth, I'm happy I kept this name all those years. I've been logging in and off this app from time to time over the years and I rejoined in the beginning of the year. And gosh it has been a life changing time since. Meeting and linking with amazing people here, and being (re)introduced to writing and the marvelous world of fiction.

I'm French, but I've started to speak English quite early in my life. I started in my late 10s to create characters and write some stories in French. And I've always wanted to write stuff in my second language. So I decided I would give it a try, with the incredible support of friends ♡

I've very new to writing so I'm open to any interactions that would help me improve (asks, comments, likes and reblogs of course, anything !)

Please assume all works are 18+ so please mdni ! do not repost, copy, translate nor reuse my works in anyway without my explicit permission

I will keep this updated. Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist !

Nienna ♡

find my works under the cut ⤵

『 Star Wars 』

× series

❝ Relief ❞ (Snippet)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x You

ೃ⁀➷ You're struggling dealing with your growing feelings for your former master.

❝ Under the Stars ❞ (snippet I - II - III)

Ben Kenobi (Series) x You

ೃ⁀➷ You had to runaway on Tatooine a decade after the purge, your family still held on Corellia, and your encounter with the Dunes Hermit won't leave your heart intact.

『 The Last of Us 』

× series

❝ Only Yours ❞ (Coming Soon) (Snippet)

Joel Miller x You

ೃ⁀➷ Joel becomes your mom new date interest and soon to be boyfriend.. But something unexpected happens in your heart.

× one-shot

❝ All I want is You ❞ (Coming Soon) (Snippet)

Joel Miller x You

ೃ⁀➷ Tommy wants a new tattoo and drags his brother with him to your shop. Joel ends up choosing a tattoo, and the simple sight of his body is enough to distract you from your work with other clients.

『 Gladiator 2 』

× one-shot

❝ Return to Me ❞ (Coming Soon) (Snippet)

Marcus Acacius x You

ೃ⁀➷ Your marriage plans are screwed by the two Emperors villainy. They've sent your fiancé away to war and you're desperately waiting, hoping he would return to you alive.

『 Death Stranding 』

× one-shot

❝ Escape the Rain ❞ (Coming Soon) (Snippet)

Sam Bridge x You

ೃ⁀➷ Sam comes back from a long mission to reconnect lost areas to the chiral network. Areas you knew full of DTs, and Mules. He's finally back to you in the shelter and you can't resist your feelings anymore.

『 Friends 』

× mini-series

❝ The One with the Sketchbook ❞ (Re-writing)

Joey Tribbiani x You

ೃ⁀➷ Joey needs a new roommate after Chandler moved in with Monica, and Rachel with Ross. By chance you're arriving in New York City to pursue your History of Art studies, and you also need to finf a roommate..

× one-shot

❝ The One with the Scars ❞ (Re-writing)

Joey Tribbiani x You

ೃ⁀➷ You knew nothing would be same after your breast surgery, at least nothing for you. You just ignored nothing would change in Joey's eyes.

『 Games 』

50 nsfw questions MDI !

Joel Miller

Din Djarin

pics used for the banners are not mine, found on Pinterest & tumblr.

[everybodylovedcontractors]

New York Sour

Chapter 1

The New York Sour is a whiskey sour with a float of red wine on top.

🍷Content Warning - 18+ MDNI, F!OC is in her 30's has long cherry colored hair, fair skin. Aviophobia warning. Mentions of violence (they're secret agents).

🥃 Summary - Agent Whiskey gets a new partner named Agent Merlot.

Word Count - 1,446

Agent Whiskey whistles as she walks past.  "Hello, gorgeous!"

She walked past him, a more recent graduate of the Statesman.  But she had met good ol' boy, Jack Daniels before.  She just shakes her head and keeps walking.

He lets out a laugh, amused by her indifference. "Well, butter my biscuit, ain't you feisty!" He takes another stride forward, deliberately falling into step beside her. "The name's Agent Whiskey. And you are?"

"We've met before a long time ago.   It's Agent Merlot now."

He takes in her suit and how it hugs every curve.  "You're still as beautiful as the day I met you.  Although, you fill out that suit better now."

She notices his glare linger on her assets and rolls her eyes appropriately. "Typical Jack Daniels."

"Now darlin', slow down there.  I'm a gentleman, and believe you, me, I know how to treat a woman."

"I know how many women you treat, and I'm not that kind of girl.  And well I'm sorry to tell you that I have a boyfriend."  She says grinning ear to ear.

I hope he treats you right because it'd be a damn shame if he wasn't.  Is he?" He asks.

"What kind of question is that?  It's really none of your business."  Her answer is clear.  

Just then, the clock rang, the two were about to be late for their meeting for assignments.

"Well, it sounds like we're about to miss the dance.   We better hurry to the meetin'," he says.  

"Now that I'll agree with."  The two hurried to the meeting.  They grab their seats as the briefing begins.   Agent Whiskey picks a seat right next to Agent Merlot. Their superior, Agent Champagne, is speaking.  As each agent is assigned to their missions, Merlot gets anxious about who she'll be paired up with. 

"That leaves me with the last assignment.  Everyone welcome Agent Merlot.  She'll be a great asset to our team.   Now, your assignment, Merlot, is to go to Budapest.  There's a summit that Comrade Caviar will be attending that requires our attention.   You will be going with Agent Whiskey.  You two will pretend to be on your honeymoon as a cover."

"What?! Honeymoon with him? Couldn't we be siblings or something?" She says, her eyes widening.

"Looks like you and I are hitched."  Agent Whiskey says with a smirk.

"Dismissed." Says their superior officer. 

She runs up to Agent Champagne, she must let him know this can't happen.  "Sir, I'm sorry this is not a good idea.  Who would think he could be married to anyone?" She motions to Whiskey.

"Now, Agent Merlot, you need an experienced agent, and Whiskey is one of the best.  You'll be staying together in the honeymoon suite, of course.  Inside, you'll find your rings, your plane tickets, and passports.  I expect another briefing tomorrow morning.  Bon voyage," says Agent Champagne. And I expect you two to be convincing. It's essential to the mission.  Dismissed."

"Delightful." she said rolling her eyes.  "I'm very excited to be married to an old chauvinist... *she scoffs*

"Look here, Missy, this old chauvinist could teach you a thing or two."

She shook her head, sighed, and went back to pack. It didn't take long, as agents had to leave at a moment’s notice.  How was she supposed to be married?  What would she tell her boyfriend?  Good thing she couldn't tell him much of anything due to being secret agents and all.   He would be furious. And to be married to Agent Whiskey of all people!?

Soon, she was at the airport meeting her pretend husband.  The show was on.  She wore a pretty blue sundress with flowers on it, her dark cherry hair flowing on her back past her shoulders, a stark contrast to her fair skin.   She finished off her look wearing big white heart sunglasses and sandals.

There she saw him, Whiskey was wearing a white dress shirt and tight as sin blue jeans.   A tan pair of cowboy boots and aviator sunglasses.   He... looked good.  Real good. 

Goddamn, that was a sight to see.   She looked like a berry to be picked in a field of wildflowers in Texas.  His mouth went dry, and he grinned.   "Darlin' you look..."

"I'll let you know that I have the proper undergarments on so I can still kick a little ass in this dress if needed."  She lifts the skirt just a bit to reveal bike shorts and her gun.

He lets out a wolf whistle, taking in her thighs, he'd never seen a gun look so hot.  "I like a woman who's resourceful."  He says.

"Now shall we, sweetheart?"  He said, being gentlemanly and holding out his hand.

"We shall, h... hubby."  She answers by taking his hand.

They walk towards the gate and give their tickets to the flight attendant boarding the plane together.  First class.   They both could get used to this... 

He helped put her luggage in the overhead.   He might be cocky and have too much testosterone for his own good, but he was considerate.  It had to be him playing the part, she thought.  The flight took off, and soon, they were in the air.  She took out her phone and saw a message from her boyfriend.

Hey, baby.  Good luck with your assignment.   I am stuck on shift for a while. I wish I could see you.   Love, Will. a smile forming on her lips.

"The boyfriend?"  Agent Whiskey asks.  "Who is he anyway?"

"His name is William.  He's a doctor and we've been together for two years."

"Do you two talk every day?"

She shakes her head.   "No, he's much too busy for that.  Plus, he knows I can't talk too much about everything going on."

"Makes sense, I suppose, but if I really was your man, I'd sure as hell call you every day."  He whispers, his lips close to her ear.

She smiled and rolled her eyes.   She really was annoyed by his constant flirting with her.  She would never be interested in him in a million years. But she had to be stuck with him, pretending to be married to him.   She sighed and looked for the drink cart, grabbing two glasses of champagne. "Here you go, honey.  It's gonna be a long flight."

He notices the eye rolling but takes the champagne.    Her immunization to his charm bothered him!  No woman could resist Agent Whiskey.   "Now, well, ain't you a sweetheart."

"I'm sorry, I'm just not the biggest fan of flying." She said, taking a sip of the golden bubbles, they instantly called her nerves a bit.

"Fearless Merlot's afraid of flying?  Well, don't worry, Darlin'. Your hubby is here for you.  You know I could try to help take your mind off things..."  his hand moves to the small of her back, tracing circles.

"Oh, I'm sure you could." she shook her head, still smiling. They were supposed to be married after all.  But she really was not interested... she downed her drink and looked for another.

"Slow down there, sweetheart. We still have a mission to do."

"I know, you're... right."   She smiled slightly.  "Would you mind if I took a nap?  Sleeping would take my mind off of it."

"Sure, thing, darlin'. I'll wake you when we land."

"Thank you.   Let me know if anything goes south, all right?"  She smiles and closes her eyes.  Maybe this would not be so bad after all.

Hours pass.   When she woke up, the two were over Austria as the plane started to shake.  She woke up and searched for the closest thing.  It just so happened to be Whiskey's muscular arm.  He wraps his other arm around her shoulder, holding her tightly to him.

"Hey Darlin'. It's all right, just a little turbulence.  Nothin' to be afraid of.  Take some deep breaths."

She does as he says so.  Just then comes another bump, this one even bigger this time.  She grabs on tighter, closing her eyes. She needs a bigger distraction.

"Breathe in and out.  Look at me.  You're going to be fine."

She held onto him tightly and, for a moment, opened her eyes.  She looked at him.  His eyes.   They were the most beautiful dark chocolate color.   His hands moved to gently cradle her chin, pulling her closer to his lips, and then he kissed her tenderly. She did not pull back. She knew it was wrong, but he was supposed to be her pretend husband after all.  She couldn't just push him away. Their unspoken chemistry at a breaking point.   She leans into the kiss as the plane begins to fall. 

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