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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

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Like a Good Girl Should

mom's sleazy bf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: Your mom's sleazy new boyfriend Joel Miller is the last person you'd ever want to be alone with.. so how did you end up on his lap getting punished?

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, sleazy!Joel, dominant!Joel, using panties for masturbation, mention of dad in prison & brief prison r@pe joke, slut shaming reader's mom, mild violence, dubious consent (at first), spanking, thigh spanking, pussy spanking, rough fingering, threat of fisting, squirting, masturbation, ejaculation on body, no use of y/n, pet names ('daddy' and 'sir' for Joel; little girl, baby girl, darlin', sweetheart for reader), no specific age for Joel mentioned but there's still an age gap as reader is in college. (If I've forgotten any, please let me know!)

Author's Note: AKA I've got a hankerin' for some spankerin'!

I've had this fic on my mind for a week and now it's finally out. I tried to make Joel as sleazy as I could without being a total nightmare. Thanks to everyone who showed interest when it was a seedling of an idea. I'm honestly looking forward to writing whatever my next kink hyperfixation will be!

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

divider by @saradika-graphics👑

You fucking hate Joel Miller.

He's the asshole who moved in a few months ago.

With your dad in prison, your mom lamented the loss of a man around the house, until one night she brought Joel home with her after meeting him at a sleazy beer joint. And he never left.

He's offensive in every way: he doesn't pick up after himself, doesn't help out with the chores, drinks milk straight from the carton, and walks around in the morning in nothing but his briefs, proudly showing off his god damn morning wood.

Not that you've looked..

And every night it's the same hectic squeaking of your mom's bedsprings, the same quick, loud shrieks followed by moans that crescendo in pitch until it all falls silent, only to start up again fifteen minutes later.

Not that you listen.

He makes no secret about ogling you, making suggestive comments on your clothing (or lack thereof). You count the days until you have enough saved up to move out while you're still attending junior college.

When your mom's working the late shift at the diner down the road, you do some cleaning up while Joel sits on his ass watching some stupid 80s action movie. You gather your clothes and put them in the washer, one by one, making sure the right things are inside out, and that pant legs aren't twisted up.

You find your favorite pair of panties, hot pink silk, the first nice pair of panties you purchased yourself at a fancy lingerie store. Horror makes your stomach sink when you look closer at the crotch of the panties, seeing a glob of what you're one hundred percent sure is cum.

Joel.

You confront him about it and he doesn't even bother to deny it. He simply kicks back on the sofa (fully clothed for once) and tells you you should take it as a compliment.

You should take him jacking off into your favorite pair of panties.. as a compliment.

Seeing red, you tell him to fuck off, to get out, that you'll tell your mom what he's been doing, but he gets up and towers over you, backing you to the wall.

"You ain't gonna do shit, little girl."

"Try me," you dare him.

The look on his face makes you wonder if he'd rather kill you or devour you on the spot.

"Get the fuck out," you whisper, eyes blazing with fury.

"Listen, little girl, and listen good: I'm here whether you like it or not, so get used to it. As long as your mama wants a piece of this," he cups his crotch as you look away in disgust. "Then I'm stayin'. And as long as I'm stayin', it's my rules that run this place, you hear?"

"You can't tell me what to do!" You shout back indignantly.

He scoffs as you say that, irritation flaring at your defiant tone. He shakes his head, continuing to glare at you. "Oh, yes I can, darlin'. As long as you're livin' under my damn roof, I can tell you to do whatever I want you to do, whenever I damn well please."

"This isn't your fucking house!"

"I'm the only man here, ain't I?"

"Then I'm moving out!"

"No you're not! Don'tcha even think about it!"

"You gonna stop me?"

He lets out a dangerous rumble as you challenge him, his eyes narrowing, practically daring you to push him. "Try it and see what happens."

In your room you grab a duffel bag and cram some clothes and necessary items in there. Already Joel is storming into the hall, his boots loud against the wooden floor.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he shakes his head.

"Told you I'm leaving. Don't know why you won't believe me."

"Where ya goin'? To that lil' drug dealer boyfriend of yours?" he sneers.

"So what if I am?"

"The hell you will. If you let him anywhere near you, I'm breakin' his damn legs."

His eyes go wide as you storm past him and head for the front door. His hand shoots out and grabs your arm before you can get too far. "Oh, no, ya don't," he growls, grabbing and jerking you back toward him. He grips your upper arm tightly as he spins you around to face him.

"Let me go!"

He scowls, keeping you in place in front of him. "No, I'm not lettin' you go, darlin'. Not until you quit bein' a brat and calm the hell down."

"Don't call me a brat!"

He grins at this. "Then stop actin' like one. You've been runnin' your mouth ever since I came here, and now you're makin' threats ya can't follow through on and bein' an uptight little bitch."

"Go to hell!" You spit at him, a glob of your saliva lands on his cheek and he wipes it off with his fingers, putting them them in his mouth to suck it off. You watch with mild disgust even as you're a little turned on.

"Oh, I should put you over my damn knee and tan that sassy little ass of yours until you behave yourself, darlin'."

You cross your arms. "You don't have the balls!"

A smirk crosses his face. "You can see for yourself, darlin'." He cups his crotch, drawing your eyes to him even though you don't want to.

"You really think I'm not gonna put ya over my knee and paddle that cute little ass 'til it's raw?"

"You wouldn't!"

A smirk creeps over his face at the uncertainty in your voice, his hand moves down to your hip, fingers digging in the flesh. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your panties dampen.

"Nah, you're pussy's speakin' for ya. I can see it already, you soakin' up those lil' shorts of yours."

You're too turned on to risk speaking, struggling against him because it's the only way you can fight back, prove him wrong.

"There's no escape from daddy, darlin', You're stuck. And you're gonna be punished until ya behave yourself."

You growl, "You're not my fuckin' daddy!"

He grins at you, grabs a handful of your hair, yanking it brutally to force you to look up at him. "That's right. Your daddy's in prison, probably gettin' passed around like the little bitch he is. I'm your daddy, darlin', and don'tcha forget it. I'm the one protectin' you, takin' care of you, and now daddy's gonna put you in your place."

He jerks you towards the sofa, pulling you over his lap so your ass is squarely on his thighs, your top half pressed into the sofa cushions at an awkward angle, holding yourself up on your forearms so you can breathe, watching helplessly as he pulls down your shorts and panties in one go, leaving your ass bare to him. He drops your clothes to the floor. The way your positioned he can also see your pussy lips, swollen with excitement.

One arm on your back holds you down, the other trails its fingertips across your smooth, supple skin, giving you goosebumps, causing your cunt to clench, much to your horror.

"You've been very naughty today, darlin', haven't you?" he prefaces your punishment, giving your ass a light swat to punctuate his words.

You're too stunned to move or speak.

He runs his large, rough hand over your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks as he looks down at you, his voice low and stern: "Answer me, baby girl. You know you're supposed to answer your daddy when he asks a question." He gives your ass a sharper smack, the sound of his hand on your flesh reverberating in the room, shameful to your ears.

You give a sharp gasp. "Yes! I was being naughty!"

"That's right. You were bein' a bad girl, a sassy little brat who keeps gettin' smart with daddy." He rubs his hand over your ass, then gives it a few little swats, each one harder than the last, building up a stinging heat on your flesh.

You squirm under each spanking, seeking friction for your aching clit.

"Stay. Still," he orders in a growl.

"Daddy, it aches," you whine, not talking about the spankings. There's a wetness growing between your thighs, glistening, catching Joel's attention like a raven sighting something shiny in the grass. He growls, his touch hovering over your folds, not yet ready to give in to your needs.

"I know it aches, baby girl. But it's supposed to. It's your punishment for being a naughty little brat." He doesn't allow himself to focus on it, his hand grabbing your thigh instead. "Open your legs wider," he commands when you try to squeeze them together to get some relief.

Your scent rouses him when you open your legs just a little. He forces them apart and slaps the insides of your thighs, his dick getting harder when you cry out from sensitivity.

"Does that hurt, baby girl?" his voice is mockingly gentle as he runs his calloused fingers over your inflamed skin. When you nod instead of giving a vocal answer he slaps another palm against your already-stinging skin. "Answer me," he warns.

"Y-yes.." you reply, trying like hell to close your legs, but he keeps you down, keeps them forced apart just enough. "Fuck.." you mutter, eyes closed as more of your desire drips out of you, running down your thighs to his jean-covered lap.

He feels your excitement, the warmth you give off, feels your slick dripping out of you like sap from a tree. He knows if he slides inside you right now you'd be hot, wet, accommodating his fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever else he wants to put in your little fuckhole. But he has control. He waits you out.

"What was that?" he snaps, giving you another spank, slightly harder than before. "Did you just curse at me, baby girl? I don't think I'm gonna go easy on you if you're gonna keep usin' that filthy mouth for that kinda language."

The dark, damp spot you created on his jeans grows, as does his enjoyment. He's hard as a rock, wishing you were placed just so so that you can feel it. He imagines you rubbing your needy unclothed cunt across the crotch of his jeans, satisfying yourself on just his clothed cock.

"Are you enjoyin' your punishment?" He mocks you once again, lightly brushing his knuckles across your puffy, drooling pussy lips, smirking when you whimper and shiver, trying to lift your hips to his touch. "Shh.. you don't get to be greedy right now, sweetheart. This is daddy's time to teach you a lesson. You're gonna be a good girl and let me teach you that lesson, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy," you whine. Your entire body is aflame with need, brimming over with desperation. You'll do anything he wants, suck his cock, take his dick in whichever hole he pleases, so long as your frustration is released, so long as you get to come.

"That's more like it," he praises, his hand moving across your sore buttocks, softly touching before landing another stinging slap. "Good girls listen to daddy, and good girls take their punishments without complainin' and cryin'. They just take it, like a good girl should."

The need for friction, your pussy left wanting and vulnerable, brings you to tears, despite his warning not to cry, "Wanna.. be good for daddy."

"I don't know if you can be good.. don't know if it's in your nature. Got a felon for a father and a whore for a mother. I think you're just plain bad.. might need to stay on my lap for a long time." He lands a slap, watching your ass jiggle with the force of it.

"Please," you whine.

"Aw, what's wrong, darlin'? You seem like somethin's botherin' you." Two more slaps, one on each ass cheek before he grabs one at a time, squeezing hard on the flesh, relishing the heat radiating from your skin, and spanking them again. "How's your ass feel, sweetheart? All warm and tender and sore?" He soothes you with his hand.

"Yes.. yes, sir."

He chuckles lowly. "Daddy likes it when you call him 'sir'. You get points for that, baby girl. Now answer my question."

Question..question.. Every time he speaks, his actions override it, but he did ask how you were feeling, if you were sore. "Yes. But I still ache.. inside."

His cock twitches in his jeans and he adjusts himself beneath you. "Still achin' inside, huh? Need some relief? Need daddy to help you out?"

"Yes, daddy." Your fingers grip the couch cushion.

He gives your hair another tug, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. "What did I tell you just now about callin' me 'sir'?"

Your eyes meet his and you swallow, but your mouth refills with saliva. Your mouth is as wet as your cunt, hoping he'll fill one or the other. Preferably both. "Yes, sir, daddy.. please.. help me."

"You're so sweet when you ask so nicely, beggin' me to take care of you." He lets go of your hair, his hand caressing your lower back and ass in a gentle, soothing way.

"But I ain't gonna fuck ya. You're not my type."

What you get instead is another spanking, then another, and another, until your ass feels raw, until it's nearly numb, then Joel presses two fingers deep inside, cramming you with his thick digits. Gasping a shuddering breath, you push back on him, only for him to take them away, spreading your wetness on your backside.

"You're just like your mom.. needy as a feral cat. Can't ever get enough," he grumbles, giving you another smack before inserting his fingers again, spreading your thighs wide as he shoves them in and out, smiling when he hears your cries of pleasure, the way you squeeze around him as if to keep him there. If it was his dick in there he'd have cum already, you're so snug and wet around him.

He removes his fingers again when he feels you close to the edge and your frustrated groan brings a smile to his face.

"Please, daddy.. sir.. Joel.." Whatever he wants you to call him. "Please don't stop!"

"You're gonna have to be quiet or I'm gonna stick my whole hand in this lil' pussy, stretch it out so nothin' else will ever fit."

You're shivering, your body on edge for his touch, and the fucker knows it. And you know he'll make good on his threat. You force yourself to be quiet, only the smallest whimpers escaping your lips once his fingers slide into you again, this time adding a third finger, unable to help it when you moan, "Oh, god, daddy!"

This time he doesn't pull away, keeping his fingers in a steady thrust inside you, using his free hand to slap your ass, mixing the pleasure with the pain. He parts your thighs further, lifting your hips to smack your pussy, grinning when you jolt forward, crying out, not allowing you to close your legs when you get overstimulated, continuing to land slaps upon your sensitive flesh until you whimper another please, daddy.

He mutters something unintelligible, bringing his fingers back to your soaked cunt, your juices creating an even bigger stain on his jeans. Pumping his fingers in and out, he scratches that itch, finds that spongy tissue inside that drives every woman crazy, and he rubs against it, watching you writhe, listening to your ragged gasps and desperate pleas until you squirt, your fluid dousing his hand and his lap until you beg him to stop when you become oversensitive.

He could continue, he could give you more, go all night, but he doesn't have as much patience as he used to. Positioning himself behind your sprawled out figure on the sofa, he takes himself from his jeans and strokes his length urgently, spilling his cum on your still-quivering ass and your drenched cunt.

Satisfied, he smears his cum all over you with his dick while it's still half-hard.

"Ain't that pretty," he comments. "Now, you ain't tellin' your mama nothin', and we can come to some kind of agreement that benefits us both.. right, my good girl?"

Exhausted, empty, you nod. "Yes, daddy."

tag list 💕: @survivingandenduring @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @pedroswife69 @wannab-urs @lunamothgoth @inept-the-magnificent @karaslqve

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 6 days ago

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Give me more.

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Words count: 2527 Rating: +18, MDNI

Summary: You're ovulating and can't calm down, just the night before Frankie leaves for a two-day camping trip with the boys for Santi's birthday... luckily Frankie is willing to help you... too much, even.

Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, a lot of kissing, female masturbation (on Frankie's leg hehehe), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, aftercare, reader has breasts and vagina, wears a baby doll and a thong, she's able body, she doesn't blush, she has hair but it's not described and she has no other description, brief reader’s thought insert, marked in italics. Pussy pronouns. Pet names (baby, honey, good girl). Frankie is our PEK on a mission 🫡

A/N: This Frankie is the same as You look like a fun place to sit, but it can be read as a stand alone, there are only some mild references to the previous ff. (If you haven't read it yet though, I hope you do 👀♥️) I have a couple more ideas in mind for these two, I hope to have something out for the Christmas holidays at least. Thank you so much for loving these two in the previous story, especially to @harriedandharassed who read it and shared it like 3 times if I'm not mistaken, I'm so flattered and grateful. I hope this one works just as well as the first one. English is not my first language, I have no beta, I hope there aren't too many mistakes, please forgive me if there are. I'm open to any advice you want to give me to improve but please be kind. (you always are, tbh). Comments and reblogs are always welcome, you would make me so happy 🥹 I started a tag list, if you want to be added leave a comment. If you'd prefer to be tagged only on something specific I can definitely do that, just let me know.

Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you enjoy.

“Frankie...” you whisper in the dark.

“Yes?” he answers you in a thick sleepy voice

“Are you asleep?”

“Actually yes.”

“You're answering me, though.”

“Sweetheart...” he picks up his phone from the nightstand ”It's 3:00 a.m. What's wrong?”

“I can't sleep” you groan

“Come here, come on” you shift on his part of the bed and he holds you tightly against his body, you rest your head on his chest and surrender to his comforting embrace and the scent of his skin.

You hum “thank you”

He places a kiss on your forehead “sleep now”

You close your eyes, focusing on the sense of peace you feel wrapped in his strong arms, clasped to his body as warm as a furnace, one leg crossed over his, one arm wrapped around his waist.

It's amazing, really, so amazing that soon you begin to feel something else. a little shiver that runs under your skin, a little electric shock that goes through you all, and then a crescendo of wetness between your thighs.

You’re ovulating and you’re feral, simple as that.

You try not to mind it, to let it pass, not to be too demanding after he has already made you come twice tonight, once on the couch while you were watching a movie - well at least you tried, but you actually have no idea what the movie was about because you were too busy bouncing on his cock, which when you think back on it, it makes you laugh because it seems like a constant in your dating that you can't finish watching a movie without jumping on each other - and once as soon as you got into bed when he saw you coming out of the bathroom in a new babydoll and thong you bought especially for him.

Only two months ago neither of you could stand the other but now, as much as it still bothers you to admit it since he was the last person you thought you would end up with, you are completely and hopelessly smitten with him.

“Frankie,” you whisper, hoping he won't tell you off “can we kiss for a while? Just a little bit?”

It’s so early in the morning that he doesn't have the energy to be sarcastic as usual, he just replies “of course, baby”

He lowers himself on your face and kisses you on the lips, in a very tender but rather chaste way, he still looks half asleep. After a couple of minutes he stops and you sigh, resting your head back on his chest.

I must let him sleep, you tell yourself. This man is tired, he has already fucked me twice, that should be enough for now. Yet no, it's not enough, you still crave more.

“Frankie.." you mumble on his chest.

“Mmm what is it again?” his voice is even deeper and rougher than usual, which literally sends you into raptures.

"I..." a glimpse of him between your legs as he eats your pussy flashes past your eyes, you squeeze them hard and admit "I want you"

“Still?” he doesn't have an angry tone, nor an irritated one, he's calm, quiet, definitely awake at this point because you feel his hands roam over your back, all the way down to your ass “you insatiable little minx. You know I have to get up in three hours.”

“I know...but it's not fair, it's Saturday”

‘You were there when I promised to go camping and fishing with the guys, right?’ You leverage your arms to reach his neck, resting your lips on his soft, amber skin ”mmmm yes” you groan.

He chuckles, as he squeezes your butt cheeks “you know I have to, it's Santi's birthday”

You continue your run up his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt, caressing his back.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whisper in his ear, burying a hand in his dark curls, your leg tightening around him brushing your barely covered pussy on his leg. Frankie gasps at the sensation, as you begin to grind against his thigh. “It’s only for two days. Jesus, you really are a menace, you know that?”

“Yeah, you like that about me” You coo.

He puts a hand on your neck, his thumb brushing your ear while his other fingers wrap around the base of your skull. “I sure do. Go ahead, honey, make a mess on me”

You’re grinding hard, the texture of your brand new thong is adding a delicious scratch between your clit and his skin.

Ridiculous desperate moans escape your lips and he kisses you, letting them vibrate into his mouth.

He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, which allows you to feel his warm skin, your clit throbbing against him, your dripping pussy heating from the contact.

You feel the tingle of your orgasm mount inside you, your mouth is wide open for him, your tongue feverishly entwined with his in a sweet struggle that leaves you breathless.

And you come, wave after wave, quivering against him, one of his strong arms keeps you in place while his other hand is still wrapped around your neck squeezing lightly on your pulse point.

Your breath is short and ragged, your body hot and tested and yet you feel like it’s not enough.

As soon as your breathing returns to normal you mutter ��gosh...I want more” into his slightly sweaty t-shirt.

His voice comes out more high pitched than he would like, he opens his eyes wide and exclaims, "Baby, do you want to wreck even the last bit of me tonight?”

You giggle softly and coo “She’s aching, you know…”

You feel one of his hands kneading one of your ass cheeks and then sliding down to your pussy, massaging your folds from behind, wetting his fingers with your juices.

“Mmm that’s good” you whisper “but I still want more”

Frankie grunts, flipping you onto your back on the bed and getting on top of you.

His eyes scan you in the dim light of your room, reading the lust on your face. “How much is she aching?”

You whine, tighten your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer but Frankie doesn't budge an inch, he's too strong for you.

“Use your words, baby, I know you can.” His gaze is no longer clouded by sleep, it’s alert and authoritative and he pins you down.

“A lot.”

“Yeah? Does this wet pussy need me?” he goes down your chest kissing your skin left uncovered by the thin straps of your baby-doll. You moan again, you don't know how to do anything else, your head feels light and confused.

"Answer me" he says leaving a bite on your shoulder.

You squirm and a breathy "Yes" comes out of your throat.

You feel his cock swell against your thigh, A trickle of desire runs down between your legs, wetting the thong you're wearing underneath. It’s basically drenched at this point.

“What do you want me to do? Tell me what your naughty pussy needs"

“Your tongue, your fingers…” you whine “Please, Frankie”

One thing you learned right away about Frankie is that he really enjoys eating his girl out.

He's not one of those men who do it just to get a blowjob in return. He's dedicated. He uses his tongue, his lips, his nose even, he compliments how you taste, how pretty your cunt is, how wet and warm she is under his tongue, he doesn't stop until you're left shaking and breathless beneath him, until he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you.

He really is a force of nature and blows your mind every single time. And not only at doing that, he is experienced and passionate in every field.

“Greedy”

He pulls back the duvet and the cool air hardens your nipples as he reaches between your legs, his lustful, tantalizing eyes peering down at you.

His mouth brushes your inner thigh, slowly moving up from your knee to your groin, his beard tickling you deliciously, “is that what you want huh?”

“Yes” you murmur ”yes, please.”

His plump lips settle on your opening, he sticks out his tongue and licks from above the fabric. You moan, sinking a hand into his raven curls, pressing him against your cunt.

He chuckles against your folds, sending an exquisite vibration through your body, slips his fingers into the elastic of your thong and slowly pulls it down.

Your cunt throbs in anticipation as his tongue travels up your slit and you emit a deep “Fuck, yes” as soon as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking away the last bit of reasoning you had left.

“Oh God, Frankie”

He goes down again and comes back up, tongue flat out sliding over your wetness, once, twice, three, four times as an irrepressible heat spreads inside you again and then the tip of his tongue stops under your clit and he begins to jerk it quickly with close flicks.

His hand is open on your thigh, he slows down a bit when he feels your body tenses, goes back to teasing your opening and then starts tickling your bundle of nerves again.

You tug his hair, spreading your legs even wider to take in all that he wants to give you, melting under his ministration.

“Fuck, you’re so good, don’t stop” you whine and you see him grinning as he replies “I won’t, baby, I’m going to have a damn fucking meal out of this pussy”

His touch is careful, long laps and sucks on your clit, he knows how to alternate them, he seems to know your body and the way it reacts inside out.

Another thing you discovered about him is that he is great at listening and observing and very often guesses your needs and reactions before you express them. He immediately learned how you take your coffee, how you frown when something is bothering you, he knows that you need a particularly tight hug on Monday nights, and that on Friday nights you like to treat yourself to a drink to celebrate getting to the end of another work week.

Frankie is good, really good, you even start to really like quarreling with him, you like the way he stands up to you, the thrill of it and the amazing sex that usually comes right after.

He brings you almost to the edge with his tongue without taking his eyes off your face, and then you feel two of his fingers nudging at your entrance “you want them huh?”

“Yes” you breathe, almost on the verge of delirium and he teases “ask nicely baby, I haven’t heard that little magic word yet”

You would roll your eyes if you were able to do that but right now all you feel is desire, desire to be full again with his fingers, desire to be fucked just like the way you like, desire to be his and only his.

“Pl-please” you mutter and he whispers “here she is, my good girl”

His index and middle finger start to stretch you, it seems like he’s taking all the time in the world while you’re trembling and begging to be satiated.

“Almost there pleasepleaseplease”you plead and he sinks a little bit more, up to half fingers, his other hand gripping on the soft skin on your tummy, keeping you in place while your back feels like a guitar’s string ready to snap.

Your walls are clenching desperately around his fingers, impatient to have all but instead of giving you your long awaited release he comes out completely.

"Fuck" you hiss.

His lips are curved into a mocking smirk.

Your clit is swollen, your hole empty and the almost release is tingling all over your body like a latent fire that cannot be extinguished.

“Did you think I would make this easy for you?” He asks ironically.

You scoff “Goddamn,Frankie!”

You don't know how he finds strength but he's making you pay for be so demanding, your pussy won't stop throbbing as he barely caresses you, feather light touches on your folds, deliberately ignoring your clit.

You try to breathe deeply to calm down, but as soon as Frankie feels your body relax he returns to licking you, two fingers on your clit moving in circles.

You're almost on the verge of tears when he brings you back to within an inch of your brink.

“Frankie, please” you cry “I can’t- fuck- I just can’t”

“Oh yes, you can. You wanted more? I’m going to give you exactly this so now shut up and let me do my job” he’s commanding now.

He’s slow and steady over your bundles of nerves and when you impossibly tense again his mouth is back on it, sucking and teasing with his tongue.

When he gives you your second orgasm he doesn't stop stimulating you as it washes over you, your back arches sharply, you’re gushing in his mouth and all over his face, your hand in his hair tugs to try to pull him away from you but he doesn't move, his lips stubbornly latched onto your clit, his hand firmly on your tummy while the other grips your thigh.

He doesn't stop as you anchor yourself to the edge of the mattress trying to lift yourself up, your body twitching unbearably, he pulls you by your legs and brings you right back to where he wants you without taking his face off you, in fact sinking even more. “Frankie please, please, I can't” you feel tears stinging your eyes.

You feel so sensitive it’s almost impossible to handle.

“Ssssh you’re good” he says, detaching from you just long enough to say it, his beard and mustache glistening and soaked in your essence.

You squeeze your eyes, cover your mouth with your hand as you wail so gravelly it almost doesn’t sound your voice anymore.

You're overstimulated, your body is sore, you murmur a tearful “please” again, and Frankie finally decides you've had enough. He pulls away from you and takes you in his arms as he whispers, “You're okay, honey,” caressing your back. Your labored breathing slowly returns to normal, giving way to a deep, dense feeling of gratification.

Frankie definitely reached another level of dedication tonight.

“Is everything okay?” he asks as he lifts your chin, inviting you to look at him. "Yes," you murmur, and he kisses you tenderly, "do you think I've given you enough to deal with my absence for two days?”

You giggle “I think it's enough to endure a week” and ruffle his hair kissing him again, lingering on his lower lip “But let me tell you something, though, someone they call Catfish who goes fishing… it's really odd”

The sound of his thunderous laugh vibrates against you “I hadn't thought about it but I must admit that you are right. Now let me sleep for...I don't even know what time it is anymore” He reaches out an arm to retrieve the phone on the nightstand and realizes that it is already five o'clock.

“Oh, fuck”

tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter 🌹

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fandom

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almostempty · 1 month ago

Text

Paris, Texas pt. 2

aka: 2 Texans, 1 Lady 🎀 The joel x javi x f!reader threesome PART 2!!

WC: 8k | Other fics | Rating: 18+ | Read on Ao3 | PART ONE

this one goes out to my fellow mlm fans and voyeurs, i hope it’s everything you wanted and more <3; dedicated to everyone that gets a tag bc i love you 5ever

Summary: Joel, still struggling with his conflicting feelings about the threesome with Javier, gets a surprise visit at work from the man himself that leaves him even more confused. After a week of seeing Javier in his dreams, he gets another surprise visit at work.

Note: it’s pretty heavy on the m/m action so if that’s not ur thing no worries you can still have a forehead kiss from me

Tags/warnings: pwp, smut on smut on smut, internalized homophobia, dubcon joel/javi, infidelity, oral (m and f), consensual f/m sleepy oral, m/m anal, it’s not exactly a cuck chair–but there is a chair and u get to watch from it, top!joel, bottom!javi, but also switchy/vers in the future bc, respectfully, i would to experience the best of all worlds, i do not have a dick (i’m just a member of the fanclub) so if any of the m/m action is wildly inconceivable or something pls let me know i’m happy to receive feedback (spit as lube just pretend ok), some angsty guilt and shame in between the smut bc joel is still in denial, uhh dom!joel, idk if contractors have offices and i spent too long googling about it before remembering the point was the porn so pls forgive if that ruins ur immersion, tell me if i forgot something important

standard almostempty warnings at this point: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise no descriptions of skin tone, blushing, hair, idk tell me if there’s something that takes you out (physically); everyone is probably bi; no y/n, no beta just fueled by the power of adhd and delusion, if u see a mistake it was the gremlins i’m sorry

PLEASE TELL ME IF U LIKE IT OR IF U HATE IT OR IF YOU WANT MORE

Joel is buried in paperwork. Permits and invoices are stacked up on his desk in organized chaos. The week has been a disaster. He blames his low-grade headache on the deadlines and number crunching, but he knows something else makes him uneasy. He rubs the pads of his fingers between his brows as if he could massage away the stress or erase the permanent worry line carved into his features.

The noises outside his office blend into static as he recommits himself to getting caught up.

He rolls up the sleeves of his worn plaid shirt, sighing to himself before he resumes. His pen scratches across a form he doesn’t care much about when the door to his offices creaks open.

His head snaps up, looking across the room with a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for interruptions, and he's already irritated at being stuck behind a desk playing catch-up. He isn’t expecting the man that enters the room. Stifling a surprised noise, he narrows his eyes to a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for work-related afternoon interruptions, let alone a surprise visitor.

“So, this is the boss’s office?” Javier’s voice is smooth like he didn’t just appear out of nowhere and uninvited.

“Yep,” Joel mutters, grip on his pen tightening in his fingers. Dropping his eyes back to his work, considering ignoring the man. Maybe he can will away the pest by avoiding eye contact and ignoring the intruder sizing up his space.

Javier scans the sparse office. Empty walls, bare bones, and practical.

Joel assumes he’ll have a snarky comment about the size of the room or the view. He keeps flipping through the paperwork in his hand, braced for Javier’s attitude. Joel is tense and prepared to snap back, but his shoulders are tight and stiff as if he’s been sleeping on concrete for a week.

The signature scent of Javier, spicy and smoky, fills the air. The fragrance stirs Joel's memories and causes a visceral reaction. It makes his gut churn and fingers itch with restlessness.

The last–and only–time he’s seen Javier plays out like a well-edited montage. New images flash every time he blinks. Dark eyes. Sweat glistening on Javier’s chest. Lips, tongues, and teeth, he tries to subtly shake the thoughts out of his head.

Javier drops into the chair in front of the desk, eyeing Joel with a casual bravado. He crosses one leg over the other, resting his ankle along his knee in his dark jeans and rusty red button-down. He links his hands behind his head as if he’s prepared to settle in and bask in Joel��s discomfort.

Javier’s eyes roam over Joel’s desk. “You don’t have a secretary for all that paperwork?” he muses. A smile pulls at the corner of Javier’s mouth that Joel could sense without looking at him. He can feel the heat of Javer’s gaze pouring over the desk between them, making the air feel heavy, thick with something unsaid.

Joel can feel his pulse jump in his throat, chest constricted. “Nope.” He hoped his clipped tone would push Javier out of the room, but that hope flickers and dies when he takes in the nonchalant sight. Irritation spikes in Joel at the whole disturbance. He’s not interested in letting Javier take up residence in his office. Or his mind.

“You need somethin’?” Joel’s throat feels dry as he spits out the blunt question. He flips through the next invoice without processing a single word on the page. He’s tired and has a low threshold after a week of poor sleep. Though, he’d never admit, except maybe to you, that he’s easily irritated even with a good night of rest. But you always slice right through his grumpy shell.

“Just in the neighborhood,” Javier drawls, “thought I’d stop by.”

“Right.” Joel rolls his eyes, ”We supposed to be friends now?” Or what? Something more?

Javier shrugs casually, like that’s up to Joel to decide.

Joel tosses his pen and paperwork onto his desk. He takes a breath, forcing his features into something neutral. The night you brought Javier into your home, and your bed has haunted him. Made it so he couldn’t think straight. Tortured him, not with regret, but with the messy, tangled knot of shame and desire.

Now Javier is here. In the flesh. Self-satisfied and content, watching Joel and waiting expectantly. Waiting for what?

“Is staring me down part of your ex-cop deal? You come here uninvited to interrogate me or something?” Joel accuses with annoyance in his eyes.

“I don’t need to interrogate you,” Javier answers, mellow and cloying, “already know what you want.” He shifts, leaning forward, speaking quieter. “Just wanted to see if you’ve figured it out yet.”

Joel works his jaw as he crosses his arms. A brick wall of resistance. The fuck is that supposed to mean?

He clocks when Javier’s eyes lower, tracing the line of his arms, the same way you do when you catch Joel in a mood. You so easily diffuse his anger, disarming him with your wit or completely dismantling him with your body, unlike the instigator in front of him, who seems to only get under Joel’s skin.

Joel lets out a deep sigh. Javier isn’t here to be friends.

“It was what she wanted,” Joel says, his eyes hard, his voice firm. It felt like a weak excuse the second the words left his mouth. Shit.

Javier can taste the blood in the water. His eyes glint at the thrill of the chase. “Is that all?”

The room feels like it’s shrinking. Heat crawls up the back of Joel’s neck, anger entwined with something else he refuses to name. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, standing up from his chair, trying to tower over Javier in some pathetic attempt at dominance.

A move he immediately regrets.

Javier also stands, circling around the side of the desk to look Joel up and down. Boldly. He admires Contractor Joel. The way he fills out his well-fitted work jeans, the way his deep green plaid hugs his broad shoulders and strains around his biceps as he crosses his arms again.

The workwear suits him. A strikingly masculine figure. Powerful and seductive. Tempting Javier just by existing. “I get it,” Javier murmurs to himself, understanding what you’d mean when you first described Joel. The disgruntled expression, the furrowed brows and sharp eyes–he only makes it worse.

“Always thought the whole construction thing was a cheesy porn gimmick,” Javier admits, “you could pull it off though. You got the toolbelt and the hat?”

“You can leave,” Joel replies dryly.

Ignoring Joel, Javier steps closer, “I’m just saying,” he rests a finger on Joel’s shoulder, drawing a line down towards his chest. Joel’s body is rigid, the contact searing his skin even through the soft material of his shirt. “You look good. This is your color,” he tugs at the dark green fabric below Joel’s throat. He drops his hand, and Joel feels like the earth could swallow him whole.

Javier’s mock compliments make Joel’s stomach flip before he steels himself again. Javier flashes a diabolical smile, catching the flare of Joel’s eyes and the hard swallow of whatever retort he couldn’t muster.

“You’re really trying to convince yourself, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice is dripping with mock sympathy.

Violent, intrusive thoughts race through Joel’s mind—socking Javier in the jaw to wipe that smug look off his face, grabbing him by the collar and running him through the wall, slamming him onto the desk. Face down so he could lean over his body and tell him, hot breath on the back of his neck, that he’s about to learn to watch his mouth.

Joel’s hands flex, knuckles popping, and heat stirs at the base of his spine at the dark desires. Suddenly, very aware of their close proximity. Close enough to feel the heat of Javier’s body, and to see the unwavering confidence in his face.

Amused by Joel’s volatility, Javier scoffs gently. His warm breath fans between them, and a smirk spreads on his face. Out of context, it’s only a gentle tease. A flirty smile and charged moment. But to Joel, strained like the last barricade holding back a beast, it’s too much. He snaps, and the beast gnashes its teeth.

“Get fucked,” Joel’s voice is a rumbly, low growl.

Javier’s smirk blooms into a Cheshire Cat grin. “I’d ask if you were offering, but I don’t think you’ve got it in you.”

Blood pounds in Joel’s ears. Drowning out the voice that wonders why Javier can rile him up so easily. The reminder that he’s got no reason to be jealous. That you’ve done nothing to make him worry.

“You were only doing it for her, huh?” Javier’s voice was quieter but still laced with danger.

Joel’s jaw is clenched tight when he replies, “Yep.” It doesn’t carry the conviction he needed to convey.

“Shame she isn’t here now, then,” Javier keeps pressing. The honesty in his tone throws Joel off.

“Would do anything for her,” Joel adds, softening fractionally at the truth in it.

“Anything?” Javier repeats.

“S’right.”

“For her.”

“For her,” Joel nods in agreement. Letting out a breath, he didn’t realize he had been holding. Javier rocks back on his heels like he’s about to turn and stroll away, satisfied by God knows what part of that interaction.

But he pauses.

Time feels weighted until Javier moves in closer. Another smile breaks across his face at how easily he can shock Joel into a trance with his audacity. Acting in defiance of all of Joel’s words.

His hand snakes up Joel’s chest until his fingers are slipping between the curls at the base of his skull. He leans in close, lips ghosting over the shell of Joel’s ear, “Is this for her too?” He shifts back half a step, and with the hand on the back of Joel’s head, he urges him to look down.

Javier’s hand had moved between them, palming the bulge in Joel’s jeans, his fingers pressing against his erection through the denim. Joel’s lips part, his whole body jerking forward instinctively, and a low groan rumbles in his chest before he can stop it.

Javier’s smirk deepened. “That’s what I thought.”

For a moment, Joel’s mind blanks out, lost in the haze of physical sensation. His body reacts before his brain catches up.

“The fuck are you doing?” Joel snaps, grabbing Javier’s wrist and yanking it away. His voice is hoarse, breath ragged.

“Anyone could walk in here.”

Javier didn’t pull away; he didn’t flinch. His head cocks in contemplation at Joel’s specific reasoning.

Leaning in closer, Javier’s voice drips with amusement. “You’re afraid of them?” he nods towards the door. “Worried about what? That your crew is gonna find out their boss likes cock?” he laughs softly, a dark, teasing sound.

Joel’s chest heaves, heart pounding. Anger, lust, and frustration all swirling together inside of him.

“You think they won’t take orders from you if they hear the noises you make for me?”

He knows Javier is running his mouth to provoke him. But it works on him anyway. Joel huffs dismissively, without a thought, “You think I’d make a sound for you?”

“I think you’ll beg me to stop before you do.”

Before he can dwell on the ramifications, Joel acts on impulse. Stepping back, his face hardening as he stares Javier down. That smug bastard. He’s consumed with a defiant urge to remove that smirk from Javier’s face.

“On your knees,” he orders, his voice cold, flat, and restrained.

Javier’s eyebrow raises, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Why, Joel?” he asks, voice playful.

“You know why.” The presumption is underscored by the sound of Joel’s belt clinking before he unzips his jeans. He grips the base of his thick cock, menacing and erotic, as he keeps his hard gaze on Javier.

He accepts the challenge, kneeling slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“Yeah,” Javier murmurs, “you look even better like this. All frustrated and desperate to be touched.” His voice is thick and low, like molasses. Almost reverent, but at the same time gloating, as if Javier’s only proving himself right. It’s infuriating to Joel that the man can so freely express his desire and rile Joel up further with the same words.

Javier’s hand covers Joel’s as he gives Joel’s cock an experimental stroke. Joel hisses through clenched teeth, slamming his eyes shut and tilting his head up to break the eye contact. To sever the intimacy. He’s taut, impatient, and ready to snap.

Until Javier’s lips wrap around his weeping tip, and they both groan in unison at the sensation. The wet heat of his mouth sends a sharp throb of pleasure through Joel. The intensity causes his hand to shoot out to his desk, fingers digging into the edge in an attempt to ground himself.

But it’s no use.

Javier knows exactly what he’s doing, taking him deep, fast, his mouth warm and eager. His hands work in symphony with his mouth, twisting around his length, massaging at his thighs and hips, deliberate and competent. He has nothing to be shy or restrained about.

Sinking into the pleasure, Joel starts to reason with himself. A mouth is a mouth, he can allow himself to have this, to let himself enjoy it.

And he does.

Javier’s tongue teases underneath the sensitive head of Joel’s cock before he slides past his lips, along the flat of his tongue, and deep into his throat. It’s good. Why is it so fucking good? Joel’s head tips back down, blinking his eyes open. His body shudders.

It’s not just a mouth.

Seeing Javier’s head bobbing, his cock disappearing past the man’s lips, it stirs something wild and untamed within him.

It’s a mistake to finally look. To really watch, taking it all in. The handsome features on Javier’s face, the unapologetic pleasure he takes from every reaction he pulls from Joel’s body. The strength and finesse of his hands are so different from you. He’s drawn to follow the movement of Javier’s hand dropping to readjust himself, to ease the pressure on his own aching cock.

The brief friction looses a moan from Javier, vibrating around Joel’s length. It’s undeniably fucking hot. Joel’s control slips, possessed by his urges.

He reaches for Javier’s face to cup his jaw and hold him still. And he gives in. Fucking into Javier’s mouth, hips jerking recklessly. It’s a desperate strain to tamp down the groans clawing at his throat, and it doesn’t help when Javier watches him with his half-lidded eyes. No.

“Shit,” he admonishes himself. Suppressing the captivating draw he feels. He tries to find focus, to keep it together–but there’s a loud knock that staggers him.

A voice, muffled outside of his office door, shouts to him, “There’s a vendor here, says he needs your sign-off.”

Joel’s breath hitches, “Fuck,” he spits, hands grasping the desk and Javier’s jaw, forcing out a coherent response. “Be there in a minute!” he calls out, voice strangled.

Javier doesn’t stop. He doubles down, hollowing his cheeks and greedily coaxing Joel to lose control. And, of course, he does. Joel’s climax hits fast and hard. His last attempts to stifle any noises falter. He gasps, body jerking as he comes, spilling into Javier’s mouth.

Dazed, he can only blink as Javier pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking.

��Seems to me like that was just for you.”

Joel is wrecked, leaning against the desk, his heart racing. He doesn’t have time to process anything before Javier kisses him—brief, chaste, leaving behind the taste of himself on his lips.

“Better get out there before anyone worries, boss,” Javier whispers with a wink before walking out of the office, leaving Joel standing there, stunned, unable to move.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Joel isn’t sure if the knot in his stomach is anger, guilt, or worse, wanting more.

Seems to me like that was just for you.

It echoes, slowly settling over Joel.

He nearly doubles over when the reality finally hits. His thoughts race, consumed by the thought of you. What did he just do?

…………..

Joel is wracked with guilt and misery for days. Suffering in his own self-imposed torment.

He needs to tell you, but he can’t figure out how. There’s no version of, “Hey baby, you know the guy from the threesome? The one that I threatened to kick out of the house? Well, he showed up to my office, and I may have come down his throat before he disappeared without a trace like a dick-sucking fairy.” that he can come up with that sounds redeemable.

Worse, he still can’t get over the guilt and shame of how it even happened. Seduced by another man? He can’t fathom the reality that another man could turn him on, refuting the way he felt when he watched Javier sink to his knees. And rejecting the truth when his cock stirs at just the memory. Joel is at a complete loss for how to explain it away.

It fucks with his sleep. He jolts awake in the middle of the night, aching and hard and furious that Javier has invaded his dreams. He sits up in bed, dragging his hands over his face. And you stir, always attuned to him.

You’re warm and sleepy, but concern washes over you in the moonlight.

“Can’t sleep?” you murmur, reaching out to pull him towards you. “What do you need?” Always so grounded, so considerate. It twists the guilt inside of him. He tries to erase his self-loathing and reassure you, to ease you back to sleep.

You aren’t quite conscious enough to listen, but when you shuffle beneath the sheets to cuddle up to your man, you gasp when you accidentally brush over his hard cock. Not because it’s a shock to find, but because in your barely lucid state, you’re uninhibited. Earnestly expressing the desire his arousal sparks in you.

“Use me,” you whisper, slow and syrupy. Difficult to deny.

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Joel argues softly.

You roll over, muffling a low whine into your pillow, before turning back towards Joel. You can make out his profile in the dim glow of the room. You can feel the resistance, but you give it another shot.

“It’s not okay,” you grumble, and his head jerks towards you, “can’t go back to sleep now, you’ve got me all wet already.”

“Okay,” he gives in like he could ever hold out on you anyway. He pulls back the sheet, exposing your sleep-warmed skin to the cooler air. Running his palm down your spine as you melt face down on the bed. He crawls overtop of you, straddling behind the curve of your ass, before lowering himself, caging you under his body.

The skin contact is overwhelmingly intimate as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You settle with ease and whine softly into the dark room as he rubs his cock along your slick folds. He continues, grunting in his own pleasure, as he glides along your seam, soaking in the sensation of you. Wet and needy from his touch. Until your legs are twitching and your whines grow louder, impatient, and sharp until he hears you say his name. When you plead for him to fuck you already.

Then. He adjusts and sinks slowly into you, filling you inch by inch, grinding languidly against your plush body.

You’re soft. Warm and wet. You take him so well, and he knows how to find the angles to make you shake and cry out for him. Now he chases it, needing to please you, to give himself to you. He plunges into you deeply, whispering praise against your skin until you’re shuddering and gasping beneath him. He nearly comes with you, but when the thought of Javier pops up, he falters. He pulls out of you and gently flips you over.

“Sleep,” he commands as he settles between your legs, and you let it take you. Drifting off before you can process that he didn’t finish. Content to dream about Joel’s tongue dipping into your fluttering entrance and his hands spreading your legs wider.

Joel stays between your legs, making your dream a reality. Trying to purify himself by worshipping you. Pouring his sins out between your thighs. Seeking forgiveness through your pleasure until he’s too tired to dream.

He’s convinced this method will work. That eventually, he’ll forget about Javier altogether. But Joel underestimates how deeply the other man has sunk his claws into the back of his mind. It’s unsustainable, and his exhaustion becomes more and more apparent throughout the week.

Despite thinking he’s able to cover up his internal torment, you always seem to know when something is wrong. You don’t push. You’re patient and gentle with him. It adds to his guilt.

You help out in any way you can. Commenting that he seems stressed and tired but never asking for an explanation. You let him stew on his own emotional nightmare in solitude. As he prefers.

For now.

When Joel admits to you on Friday night that he’s behind at work, you simply nod. He doesn’t argue when you offer to bring lunch to him the next day. But he can barely meet your eyes when you smile and trail off about how you know just what will help him get through the day.

You tell him decisively that he deserves to finish up early if he’s going to the office on a Saturday. He can only nod. Determined to spend the morning figuring out how to confess to you. With words.

He’s still in a haze of fatigue the next day. Despite the rest of the office being quiet, his head is loud and buzzing. Likely the reason he’s so taken off guard when the door to his office swings open.

“Working on the weekend?”

Joel’s pulse spikes as the sound of Javier’s voice fills the room, smooth and mischevous.

Anger floods his bloodstream and cuts through the fog of shame that had been clouding his vision. Joel crosses his arms and levels a ruthless glare at the man leaning against the doorframe.

Javier should be the one that looks out of place. Overdressed for the occasion, in the wrong place. But he stands confidently, neatly groomed, and polished. His dark blue collared shirt and fitted jeans highlight his broad shoulders. He looks like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, and his expression says he knows it.

“No,” Joel says gruffly. Unperturbed, Javier sails into the room.

“I don’t have time for this. Get out.” Joel says, his voice low, dangerous. He stands, hips leaning against his desk, prepared to back up his threat. His tolerance is already out the window for Javier.

Javier shrugs, movements so fluid in relation to Joel’s fixed demeanor.

“You didn’t say please.” His smirk is maddening. Joel’s fuse is short. He’s not interested in games. Not interested in having anything to do with his surprise guest at all. But he doesn’t move. Words caught in his throat.

“Besides,” Javier continues breezily, “you aren’t very convincing. I told you last time, I like this look on you, all mad and–”

Joel feels thorns clawing at his throat. Furious that his nerves flutter in response to Javier’s backward flattery. He can’t be thinking straight, that’s all.

In fact, it’s damned near impossible to think when Javier keeps running his mouth, pushing every button he’s got.

“Fuck you,” Joel hisses, vibrating with frustration, cutting off whatever Javier’s next words would have been.

Amused by the interruption, Javier’s smile widens, eyes gleaming. “Mm,” he purrs, stepping closer, “You would like to, wouldn’t you?”

That’s it.

Joel snaps, his hand shoots out, grabbing Javier by the front of his shirt and shoving him roughly against the nearest wall. The loud thud of Javier’s back hitting the drywall echoes in the small office. But the smirk on Javier’s face only deepens.

“Touchy today, aren’t you?” Javier teases, breath coming out in a soft laugh. His body is pinned between the wall and Joel’s, but he doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looks pleased with the predicament.

Joel’s breath is coming out hard and fast, fists still gripping the fabric of Javier’s shirt. This is the last person he wants to see right now. He seethes. Pent up and compressed into a dangerous coil.

“You think this is funny?” Joel snarls, his face mere inches from Javier’s.

Javier’s smile softens into something darker, more intimate. “A little,” he admits, leaning in just enough that their noses almost brush. “But, you seem to be taking it pretty seriously.” Javier shifts under Joel’s grip, his hands skirting up Joel’s waist. “You’re so worked up.”

Joel grits his teeth, a ferocious-looking expression that only eggs Javier on.

Dropping to a whisper to demand that Joel listens closely, Javier adds, “Maybe you’re not mad at me at all.”

Before Joel can snap back, Javier shifts, movements effortless and exact.

In an instant, Joel finds himself flipped, his back flat against the wall, slammed with a force that he wasn’t expecting. Javier’s arm presses across Joel’s chest, and his hips press against Joel’s in a way that sends a hot wave of need shooting down Joel’s spine.

“Maybe,” Javier murmurs, lips to Joel’s ear, “you’re just mad at yourself.” Javier rocks his hips into Joel’s, grinding against his body in a slow, deliberate motion. A shudder ripples through Joel’s frame, even as his mind rebels against the thrill. “Denying the truth.” He emphasizes his point, pelvis pressing into Joel’s hardening cock, rolling his hips again. “Denying the pleasure.”

No. Joel holds out. He isn’t going there. Not now, not ever.

But damn, the way Javier has him, the heat of his body against Joel’s. It tugs at the tangled knot of confusion in his chest. The knot that’s close to unraveling.

“Fuck you,” Joel spits again, but it lacks the venom from earlier. His voice is a little shaky, resolve crumbling the longer Javier stays this close.

Javier smiles, his lips brushing against Joel’s jaw. “Say it, Joel.” He’s all-consuming, like a tidal wave crashing over and destroying all of Joel’s hastily constructed defenses. Javier is a relentless force.

“Say it,” Javier demands. “I already know. Knew the first night we met,” he murmurs. “Just need to hear you say it.”

Joel’s heart pounds against his chest, and his mind races. He wants to shove Javier off, wants to do anything other than stand there and feel his body respond to every damn word Javier says. Instead, he can’t seem to do anything. Can’t stop the muscles spasming in his core, or the way his chest heaves under Javier’s arm.

“You can’t, though,” Javier whispers, his voice a dark, teasing rumble. He drops his arm, releasing Joel from his hold. “Such a shame. I wanted to know what you could do with that pretty cock of yours.”

That was the last straw.

Joel grabs Javier by the waist, roughly spinning him around, and shoving him face-first onto the desk.

“You wanna know what I can do with it?” his voice is harsh and wild.

A reckless energy blazes between them. He pushes Javier down, leaning over him, chest pressed into Javier’s back. One hand snakes down Javier’s side, stopping at his hip. The other hand firmly planted on the back of Javier’s neck, pinning him down.

Javier catches his breath. He doesn’t resist. If anything, he leans into it, arching his back, breath coming out in soft pants as Joel’s firm body boxes him in. With their bodies pressed tightly together, Joel’s straining erection isn’t subtle. “That’s more like it,” Javier murmurs, breathless but still smug.

“Shut up,” Joel’s voice is hoarse. He is losing himself in it, the heat, the tension. Javier’s solid, toned body beneath his. He doesn’t want to think anymore. Doesn’t want to feel. He just wants to take control. To push past all the noise in his head.

His body is on fire. Adrenaline, testosterone, and arousal all surge through him. Heightening every sensation, forcing him to be present. Rooted in his physicality.

Gritting his teeth, Joel’s hands grip Javier tighter, a bruising force.

“You’re gonna be good now,” Joel orders, “For me.” His voice is rough dark, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the anger—or the heat—coursing through him. He can’t deny it right now, not when it burns so intensely.

He shifts his stance behind Javier, grinding his hips forward and feeling how Javier’s body responds. How he invites the contact and braces against the desk. Sweet, thick satisfaction pools at the base of Joel’s spine.

Javier is still mouthing off, taunting Joel. Despite his voice sounding more breathless, it still brims with arrogance. “For you,” Javier repeats Joel’s words. “I thought it was all just for her? Have you changed your mind now?”

Joel doesn’t answer. He’s too far gone. His hands move to the waistband of Javier’s jeans, yanking them down roughly, exposing the curve of his ass. Javier lets out a small gasp but doesn’t protest. In fact, Joel can feel the anticipation humming in Javier’s body, and he’s amused when Javier presses back as if he needs to dare Joel to go further. As if he could stop now.

Curling over Javier’s body, Joel presses his fingers to Javier’s mouth. “Suck.” Javier complies, allowing Joel to slip two fingers past his lips. Javier lets a hum vibrate around Joel’s fingers that causes Joel to roll his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against Javier.

Losing the war with himself, Joel takes out his resentment on Javier. He hooks his fingers into Javier’s cheek–jerking his head to the side. He glowers at the signs of arousal on Javier’s face. The undignified hunger.

Remnants of disgust curdle in Joel’s gut. “You’re fuckin’ sick,” he accuses in a husky whisper, removing his fingers and straightening, breaking the eye contact that stirred something fierce and hot in his veins.

Accusations aside, Joel continues. He watches, smirking to himself, as Javier tenses at the sudden contact when Joel runs his hand over the curve of his ass. He takes his time. Enjoying his own exploration of Javier’s body. Smooth skin and firm and muscular.

When he slowly pushes a finger inside, Javier’s body tenses at first, but Joel is persistent, working in deeper and stretching him open.

Javier lets out a soft moan, still managing to sound smug even with the sharp gasp that follows. “You act all pissed,” Javier’s whispers, “but you love this.” His voice drips like warm honey with a teasing bite.

Joel grunts, ignoring the taunts, focusing instead on the way Javier’s body relaxes beneath him, allowing him to add another finger. Javier’s breath hitches and he drops his head onto the desk.

“Yeah,” Joel mutters, “you like that.”

His words on encourage Javier to continue, “Know you wanted this,” he breathes, “that you’ve been thinking about it since last time, since the first time.” He continues his murmuring, words spilling over Joel’s desk, “I know because you’ve been in my fuckin’ head since that night.”

“You’ve got an awful smart for someone in your position,” he continues, mindlessly flipping the attitude back at Javier, pointedly ignoring his confession.

A strained chuckle comes from Javier, his body tightening with every twist of Joel’s fingers. “You still think you’re in control here?” he breathes, voice challenging and raw. “You’ve got no idea.”

Joel pulls his fingers out abruptly, letting out a throaty growl as he shoves his jeans down just far enough to free himself. He spits in his hand, slicking himself up with rough, hurried strokes, his mind focused on the sight of Javier bent over his desk, waiting for more, begging for it.

“Let’s see if you can keep running your mouth with my cock inside you,” Joel’s voice is layered with satisfaction. A challenge. He’s firm, gripping Javier’s hips and lining himself up. The room feels still, their ragged breath the only sound filling the air.

He feeds his cock into Javier slowly. The tight heat of Javier’s body draws a guttural noise out of Joel, and he pauses for just a moment, letting the sensation wash over him. Then he pushes in deeper, inch by inch.

Javier lets out a sharp moan, hands balling into fists against the flat top of the desk. “Fuck,” he breathes, and this time there’s no teasing edge, just raw need.

Holding still while they both catch their breath, Joel’s hands dig tightly into Javier’s hips, anchoring the two of them together. He buries himself to the hilt, savoring the overwhelming sensation of heat and friction.

And then he starts to move.

Slowly, at first. Deliberate. He moves with measured control, hips snapping forward, pushing deeper with every stroke. Javier groans beneath him, then manages to mumble something about Joel being desperate, about how much he wanted this, but the words are broken, breathless.

“Yeah?” Joel growls, picking up the pace, his movements growing rougher, harder. “That’s what you think?”

Javier’s body jerks with each powerful thrust, breath coming in short bursts. “I know it,” he rasps, his grip on the desk tightening as Joel relentlessly continues. Slamming into him harder now, control beginning to slip.

“You talk too much,” Joel decides, pounding harshly into Javier, reveling in the sweet clench as his pelvis meets Javier’s ass. He’s entranced by the sensation, the skin-to-skin contact, the heat, sweat, and musk.

Joel feels reckless. Intoxicated with the rush of adrenaline and dopamine. Chasing an escape and taking it out on Javier. He is distantly aware that Javier has stopped with his taunting. The only sound either of them makes are low groans and throaty grunts as he pounds into the man beneath him.

So absorbed with the immorality and the thrill he’s blind to the rest of the world and the rest of the room.

Until the door opens.

Joel freezes, his heart dropping into his stomach.

It’s you.

You shut the door, locking it, before turning back to face both men. Joel’s mind goes blank. His body is still pressed against Javier, his hands still grip his hips, his body flush against his.

For a split second, he thinks he can pull away and cover up the situation somehow, but there is nothing that can explain this away. No excuse. No cover story. His body runs cold, at a loss for words, mouth agape.

Then he sees the look on your face.

You stand still, like a prey animal caught in the line of sight of two apex predators. You can see the fear in Joel’s eyes, and your heart lurches, aching to comfort him. But the rest of the scene has you stopped in your tracks.

Joel sees your eyes widen; your breath is shallow, but there’s no shock. No confusion or hurt. Just a raw, undeniable hunger. You aren’t prey.

You stand, taking in the sight of Joel fucking Javier into his desk, and your lips part in a small, breathless sigh.

Javier turns to take you in, noticing the shift in the room, but he doesn’t pull away either. He is glowing, flashing his teeth with a wicked smile. The locks of hair on his forehead are damp with sweat, and his chest heaves as he remains braced atop the desk across from you.

“Look who’s here to watch. Her own private show.”

Joel swallows hard, still buried deep inside of Javier, his heart races. Adrenaline and arousal tangle together in a haze that leaves him unsure and adrift.

You step further into the room, your gaze never leaving Joel’s as you cross the room. Setting down the lunch you brought, you perch on the edge of the chair that sits in front of the desk.

“Don’t stop,” you encourage.

Joel still looks like he’s forgotten how to blink or breathe.

“The deli had a long line, and I couldn’t get parking,” you trail off a little breathlessly, watching the confusion on your man’s face.

Statuesque and still, Joel is dumbfounded that you’re talking about being late for lunch while he’s balls-deep in the man bent over his desk. Is this real life? He’s been plagued with dreams of Javier for the last two weeks, waking up hard and sweating. But they weren’t like this. None of them were like this.

“Don’t stop,” you repeat, voice dropping, sultry and encouraging. But he’s still locked in a trance.

“Can’t perform for an audience this time?” Javier quips, and Joel can hear the eye roll in his tone.

Joel swallows hard, his mind spinning. He doesn’t know what to make of this. How to handle the fact that you’re here, watching. But with the heat in your eyes and the lack of surprise, you seem so relaxed–no, you’re enjoying this.

That does something to Joel.

Something dangerous.

The invitation in your eyes sets him off.

“She said don’t stop,” Javier continues on, smirking playfully at you, pushing back against Joel.

Slowly, Joel regains feeling in his body. His hold on Javier constricting, his breath steadying, “I won’t.” He starts to move again, indulging in the sensation as he slowly drags his cock almost all of the way out before burying himself deep with a harsh snap of his hips. The motion forces a gravelly moan out of Javier that makes your cheeks hot.

Joel continues, unhurried, fixed on the expression on your face and the depravity of the situation. You have a sparkle in your eye that he’s familiar with. “You knew,” Joel states. You nod in affirmation, a grin spreading on your face.

“I set it up,” you whisper.

Your admission hangs in the air. The sex-filled, debacherously thick air. Joel's remaining hesitance dissipates as it all sinks in. Washing away the fear of being caught or ashamed. He can see the glow on your face, your eyes dark--blown out with lust, wetting your lips as you wait for more. He can ask questions later.

For you.

He tells himself, dismissing the last of the voices in the back of his mind.

You can see the gears turning in Joel’s head before something settles in, and the dark look he gives you makes your body burn up. Joel grunts, and you nearly melt, knees weak at the eroticism. It’s a good thing you’re seated.

Joel slams harder into Javier, giving in to the primal heat driving him forward. Every broken breath from Javier feeds Joel’s growing need. His intensity shoots straight to your core. Your cunt throbs between your legs. You settle back into the chair, savoring the fruits of your labor.

Your eyes trail over both men. It’s better than you could’ve imagined. You only wish you’d been in the room last week. However, getting the details from Javier kept you aching all week, even with Joel’s newly acquired midnight oral fixation.

You feel the hungry look on your face, gaze darkening as you marvel at the lewd scene. You don’t wait for Joel’s approval. Hand dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, slipping over the seam of your pussy, already needy and wet from the debased view of the two gorgeous men.

“Oh, shit,” Javier’s eyes nearly roll back as he watches you, eyes flicking from your hand disappearing beneath your shorts and up to your face.

Your lips part, arousal flooding your body at the dynamic between both men. You watch them in awe, like your very own porn starring your two favorite men. It’s indescribably hot to see you Joel so unraveled, his teeth clenched in a feral snarl as he continues. And to see Javier so blissed out beneath him.

“Show me,” Joel’s plea sends a tingly thrill down your spine. You remove your hand from between your legs to show off the tips of your fingers, glistening from tracing your slick folds. The way both men are glued to your display gives you a different thrill, something powerful and bright that starts in your chest and flows through your body. “Show me everything, baby,” his gruff voice is irrefutable.

You slip the shorts off, spreading your legs wide and parting yourself boldly to give your men their own private show. You trace your fingers from your entrance to your clit, drawing circles and seeking relief from the pulsing need that has you already feeling precariously close to the edge.

Joel’s breath comes in harsh pants now, body slick with sweat. The desk rattles beneath them as he drives into Javier, losing himself in the rhythm, the heat, the friction, and in the sounds Javier makes–those desperate moans, ragged breaths, the way he was trembling beneath Joel, taking it all.

And all the while, Joel’s gaze flicks back to you, watching the way your breath quickens, the way you touch yourself more urgently. Like a live wire had been lit between the three of you, charging the room with an intensity Joel had never felt before.

You’re spread out in front of both of them, a vision he’ll never forget. You freely let out soft whimpers and sweet whines that drive him wild. It all surges through Joel like a fever, threatening to consume him and driving him harder into Javier, who lets out a strangled moan.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you sound frustrated. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are like this–shit.” You watch them with rapt attention, your hand moving quickly between your legs as you touch yourself. Joel can hear the soft, slick sounds of your fingers working and can see the way your body shivers with the same need that builds inside both men.

Your soft moans fill the room, blending with Javier’s broken gasps and Joel’s deep, gruff groans, creating a symphony of debased pleasure.

“Let’s see,” Joel encourages you in a hoarse voice. You can feel all of the need radiating from both men, it’s salacious and empowering. Joel’s gaze stays on you as he pounds into Javier, watching as you arch your back slightly, fingers working faster. Your parted lips and breathless noises make Joel’s pulse pike.

“I’m gonna come,” You can’t stop drawing out deep and bright waves of pleasure as your eyes dance in a flurry between Joel and Javier, taking in every detail. You can vaguely hear Joel’s praise as you work through the sensations. Panting shallowly, you’re fixed back on them as you start to relax.

Joel’s cock throbs inside Javier as he watches you, and for a brief moment, his rhythm falters, overwhelmed by how much it was turning him on to see you like this, to know you were getting off watching him like this.

Having caught on to Joel’s shift in focus, Javier lets out a choppy laugh. His own voice cracks with need. “She likes watching you fuck me,” he says, his words slurred with pleasure. “Look at her,” he begs in earnest.

“Shut up,” Joel grits out.

But Javier only laughs again, his voice still jagged. “Can’t blame her,” he continues, testing Joel’s patience. “Told you already, that sexy angry look you get–”

Joel doesn’t let him finish. He slams forward, thrusting into him deep and hard. Cutting Javier’s words off with a loud, choked moan. “Talk too fuckin’ much,” Joel spits out roughly as he leans over, his chest pressing against Javier’s back.

Joel catches the telltale hitch in Javier’s breath, the sharp, desperate moan that slipped from his lips as his need builds, coiling tight in his gut. He slides a hand over the curve of Javier’s ass, snaking around his hip, tracing over the curls at the base of his cock, and finally wrapping his fingers around his length.

Javier’s entire body jolts, clenching tightly around Joel at the contact. Joel strokes Javier’s cock firmly, matching the rhythm of his own thrusting. He revels in the delicious sensation of Javier tensing beneath him, and his breath catches in his throat.

The display of dominance and ego keeps you enthralled. Skin ablaze as you can barely keep up with the intensity of the two of them. You sink two fingers into your throbbing cunt, aching to feel filled and as wrecked as Javier seems.

Javier’s body clenches tightly around Joel as he watches you come in front of them, for them, but Joel isn’t about to stop. “You,” Joel growls as he pulls Javier’s head back just enough to hear him better. “You’re next.”

“Just–fuck,” Javier groans, hips pushing back to meet every thrust, practically vibrating under Joel, the usual cockiness faltering and replaced with something more intimate. “Don’t stop.”

Grinning through clenched teeth, leaning forward, breath hot against Javier’s ear, Joel’s voice is velvety smooth, “I know.”

“You gonna come for me?” Joel asks, his fist tightening as he jerks Javier’s cock, his other hand holding him steady by the hips.

“Please,” you add, desperate to see them fall apart.

“You–” Javier’s head drops forward, his voice a ragged gasp. He can’t finish the sentence as Joel slams forward, his hand moving faster and harder as he feels Javier’s cock pulsing in his grip.

“Come on,” Joel taunts now, rough and demanding. “Do as you’re told for once, Javier, come for me.”

And with a sharp gasp and cry, Javier’s body tenses, his cock jerking in Joel’s hand as he comes. The sheer intensity of his release is all too much.

Javier slumps forward, panting and spent, Joel’s gaze shoots back to you. The sight of you–the way you are losing yourself in watching them–makes Joel’s entire body light up with a new intensity.

You let out another soft groan, your gaze locked on Joel’s as you touch yourself, your fingers glossy with slick arousal. “Fuck, Joel,” you whisper. “Please.”

His body reacts immediately to the sound of your voice, the sight of you so undone, and he knows he’s close. He can feel the way his cock throbs inside of Javier, the heat of his release building in his gut, tightening with every rough movement. But this. Having you here, watching pushes him to the edge in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Hips stuttering, Joel’s orgasm tears through him. Groaning deep within his chest, his body jerks forward as he comes inside of Javier. His fingers dig so hard into Javier’s hips that he knows he’s going to leave bruises.

Javier shudders beneath him, panting, body spent, but still bracing himself against the desk as Joel rides out the last of his release, breath coming in harsh, uneven pants. He looks at you, and a grin spreads on his face. The wrung-out expression really does it for you.

Your eyes are half-lidded, face hot with arousal, fingers desperately reaching for the sensitive spot inside your cunt that Joel reaches with ease. Both men’s dark eyes rake over your body, spurring you on. Writhing under your own hands and their heady expressions.

“Goddamn,” Javier breathes raggedly, but his tone is laced with admiration as he watches you. It makes you glow. “So pretty like that.” You moan louder, body arching as you ride the edge of your release.

“Such a good girl,” Joel says. “Come for us.”

With a shattered breath, you come–moans filling the room as your core contacts in waves. Until you’re cursing and panting softly. Letting the praise flowing from Joel and Javier wash over you. You giggle softly, acknowledging you feel more cockdrunk than the two of them look despite only watching.

You feel a warmth settling between the three of you.

It makes your limbs feel loose and floaty as you smile lazily, watching both men tuck their softening cocks back into their jeans. You swell with pride. For your own luck, snagging two incredibly gorgeous men. And for successfully executing your plan.

You know there’s more work to do. You catch the awkward pauses and shuffling, but you can only allow your heart to swell as Joel helps you to your feet as if your legs stopped working. A deep-seated contentment unfurls in your chest when his arms wrap around you. And when he releases you, watching as you pull Javier towards you, you remain hopeful.

You’ve got more in mind for your two Texans.

divider: @cyberangel-graphics

lomls:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

@94namkooksworld

@gothcsz

@thundermartini

@magneticecstasy

@witchofthedeepwoods

@txlady37

@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

@bitchesuntitled

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@tobethlehem

@amanitacowboy

@lotusbxtch

@qveerthe0ry

@ace-turned-confused

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sp00kymulderr · 9 months ago

Text

Rise

Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+. Jackson Joel, Touch starved Joel, Lonely old man Joel. Too much religious imagery. Feelings, feelings, feelings. References to sex. Unedited.

Words: 700~

Summary: You are a brightness, Joel is the undeserving dark.

He hadn’t meant to stare, he really hadn’t.

The thing is, you were just so mesmerizing. The way you laughed and the way you danced and the way you could shine so bright in a world he had rarely known to be anything but cruel.

Jackson brought that out of people, Joel recognised that. The ability to let go finally, to live for more than survival. You had been half the bright star you are now when you first arrived; wary and traumatised. He knew those feelings well. Why had he held on to them for so much longer than anyone else?

You were like the antithesis to him: easy to know, easy to love, creating something out of the nothing your life had once been. You were well liked. Joel liked you more, he thought, but people saw you as someone they could talk to.

Tommy often told Joel he was respected in Jackson, appreciated. But it was never the same. He doesn’t have that glow, that brilliance. People know him. No one knows him. Not since Ellie had started to grow away from him, started to doubt him more…

No, not now. Those thoughts aren’t for now.

Right now, this moment, is for reverence. How had this happened? He had been staring more than he should last night at The Tipsy Bison. How had that lead you to be in his bed this morning? He could barely remember; the night a blur of things he didn’t think he should have been allowed to see. He had bought you a drink, you had given him a dance. And then more, and more. You had given him so much more.

Joel is staring again, your resting form so resplendent in the early morning light. So…divine…there’s no other word for it. You were made to be worshiped, he’s sure of it. Being of blazing light brought down to shine on his dimmed world.

When was the last time he had been touched before you? God, he truly doesn’t remember. Certainly not the way you touch; softness of your fingers paving the way for a needy grip on him, he wouldn’t forget that touch. He had been craving it for too long, imagining. Thought upon thought of what a thing your touch could be but he was never prepared for the reality of it.

Joels own hands find their way to you, fingers skimming the bare skin of your lower back. Unworthy. So defiant that his unworthy hands - so rough from years of wear - should get to lay a place on your body.

The word repeats again and again. Unworthy. Unworthy. Unworthy.

And yet last night you had told him in the silken whisper of your moans and pleas. Worthy. Worthy. Worthy.

His calloused hand travels its way slowly up the path of your back. A pilgrimage across a body meant for more than him. The rise and fall of your breath breathes fresh air in to the staleness of his home.

Of his heart.

What did he do to deserve this? What mistake did you make to let him have this?

Grey and alone and aching in ways that go beyond physical. But you were the one who kissed him first. You were the first to touch, to feel where he had not been felt in longer than he knew.

Joel leans slowly across to you. Those harsh fingers of his trailing down the curve of your waist. He dares to plant a pious kiss to your shoulder. Surely soon you’ll wake and realise the mistake?

“Joel” You moan. A soft little thing that makes his heart jump. The same way you’d spoke it last night while he’d had you on his lap, when he’d told you to come and you had like he should have any say in anything you did.

Fuck. He is undeserving of all of this but his greedy heart wants more. Hungry mouth wants to take you apart on it over and over again. Eager fingers itching to feel their way around every beautiful, delicate crook of your body.

He breathes your name back. You turn to him. Surely now is the time you tell him it was wrong. Now…

Joel’s breath catches as you turn to face him, pull him to you. He practically trembles as your lips meet again.

This can’t last forever. He doesn’t deserve it.

It means too much.

He means too little.

You kiss him again. He feels the glow of you everywhere.

This can’t last forever, he reminds himself.

#Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller smut #Pedro Pascal Character fiction #pedrostories #idk dudes I wrote this on the train it came out of nowhere it’s probably ooc as fuck but I felt it in my soul

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ghostofaboy · 7 months ago

Text

... Your Call Is Important

Summary: Dave, Marcus and Javier continue their day together. (Direct Sequel to Hold Please…)

Pairing: Dave York/Javier Peña/Marcus Pike Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 2457 Part 2 of 2

Warnings: Oral sex, anal sex, double anal penetration, threesome - m/m/m

Note: This has not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you’ve read the warnings. Dividers: @saradika-graphics

As he rested on the large hotel bed, Dave found himself watching the tiny dust motes float through the air. Beside him, Marcus lay panting, his head tucked against Dave’s neck as the younger man came down from his stifled orgasm. The cool air of the room sent goosebumps dancing across their skin as their sticky, sweat drenched forms remained tangled together after the activities moments earlier.

“You doing ok?” Dave murmured into Marcus’ hair, his gazed drifting down to the younger man’s still painfully erect cock, held in place with a black cock-ring.

“Yeah.” Marcus shifted his head to look up at Dave, his beautiful brown eyes looking darker than ever with dilated pupils almost erasing all color. “I’m good. Fuck, I wanna cum though.” Marcus laughed nervously, and Dave couldn’t stop himself from planting a kiss on his forehead.

“You will, baby boy. You just have to be patient and let us old men get a second wind.”

“Who you calling old?” Javier muttered, striding back into the bedroom and throwing a hand towel over to Dave. “I’ll be good to go soon enough, precioso.” Javier threw Marcus a wink, cheekily waving his soft cock at them both.

“You haven’t changed at all, Peña.” Dave chuckled as he gently began to wipe the cum from Marcus’ face. “Still the same bullshit and swagger as always.”

“I could say the same to you, York.” Javier climbed back onto the bed and settled down next to Marcus, propping himself up on his elbow. “You still have to be in charge, don’t you?”

“You used to like me being in charge.” Dave threw the sticky towel back at Javier, who threw it down onto the floor, glaring. “Or at the very least you never complained when I’d have you cumming on my cock.”

“Listen,” Javier frowned, pointing at finger at Dave. “I don’t need another round of-”

“How did you two meet?” Marcus cut in, shifting to sit up. “You promised to tell me and well, neither of you are perking up just yet, so we have the time.”

“So rude, baby boy.” Dave chuckled, shaking his head, looking down at his still flaccid cock. “But, you’re not wrong.”

“You want to tell the story, I assume.” Javier smirked as he idly stroked his dick.

“Well, I’ll start.” Dave grinned. “We were both at god awful joint departmental function and-”

“It was for charity.” Javier interrupted. “And it wasn’t that bad. Just, well, you know how these things are… just boring.”

“Right.” Dave rolled his eyes. “Anyway. I’m trying not to drink myself into a coma just for something to do when I spot this one.” Dave nodded his head towards Javier. “He was flirting up a storm with a very disinterested intern, and so-”

“She wasn’t an intern.” Javier scowled. “Fuck York, you make it sound like she was just a kid. She was a junior administrative aid, and for the record, she was very interested.”

“I thought you were letting me tell this story, Peña.”

“Well, you’re fucking telling it wrong.” Javier shrugged.

“So what happened then?” Marcus gave a small laugh. “After Dave spotted you?”

“Look, long story short, we ended up blowing each other in a side room.” Javier waved his hand dismissively. “After that we hooked up every few weeks until… until we didn’t.”

“Well, that’s a shitty version.” Marcus shook his head. “I want the long story, not the cliff-notes.”

“And I want to fuck you again.” Javier reached over to pinch Marcus’ nipple, before locking eyes with Dave. “And I’m ready to go again, viejo.”

Dave’s eyes wandered down Javier’s body and sure enough, jutting out proudly, was the other man’s growing erection. Glancing over at Marcus, Dave was just in time to see the young man lick his lips in anticipation before smiling at Javier.

“I’ll tell you the full story next time, baby boy.” Dave purred into Marcus’ ear, kissing the younger man softly. “And fuck you, Peña, I’m ready.”

“Please let me cum this time.” Marcus gestured down to his trapped cock, his smile growing in relief as Dave nodded.

“I got you.” Javier stroked a hand down Marcus’ face, gently cupping the younger man’s jaw, before leaning in for a long tender kiss.

Dave watched for a moment as his two lovers melded together, Javier’s tongue darting into Marcus’ mouth, all the while pumping his cock. Dave shook his head, allowing himself a smirk at Javier’s determination to get hard before him. The man never changed. And that was enough to wake Dave’s own member, and as he reached over to free Marcus from the cock-ring, Dave felt his dick twitch awake.

Marcus sighed into Javier’s mouth as Dave released him, tossing the ring onto the nightstand. Settling back onto the pillows, Dave watched and waited for the other two men to part, trying to push away the feeling of jealousy that tugged at the back of his mind. The softness that Javier poured into Marcus was something he and Javier never had, and something Dave could never allow himself to give to the younger man. Finally, Javier pulled back, smiling down at Marcus, their eyes locked on each other before they eventually turned to Dave.

“You good?” Dave forced himself back into the moment, pushing down any bubbling feeling, instead tugging on his erection.

“We’re good.” Marcus smiled back at him with flushed pink cheeks, while Javier simply gave a quick nod.

“Wonderful.” Dave reached over, pinching one of Marcus’ nipples hard, pulling a gasp and soft moan from the young agent. “Now, why don’t you come ride this cock and let me fill your ass. Let me add my cum to Peña’s.”

A low groan sounded from behind the grinning Marcus as Javier’s eye roamed down his body to Marcus’ ass, and Dave knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of the load he’d left inside Marcus’ already sloppy hole a short time ago. Perhaps once Dave added his own seed Marcus would be able to hold it in or perhaps, Dave hoped, he wouldn’t.

Swinging a leg over Dave’s torso, Marcus swiftly straddled him, his red leaking tip dripping onto Dave’s stomach as he moved. Over to their left Javier watched with dark, lust filled eyes, his gaze fixed on Marcus as he lined Dave’s cock up with his entrance. Then with a long, obscenely deep moan, Marcus sank down, engulfing Dave in his heat.

“Fuck baby b-” Dave pinched his eye shut for a moment to collect himself as Marcus immediately began to move. “In a rush?”

Placing his hand firmly on Marcus’ hip to still him, and after one final roll of his hip, Marcus stopped, staring grumpily down at Dave. Javier chuckled, shifting on the bed to kneel beside Dave’s head and nudged his cock against his lips.

Locking eyes with Marcus, Dave slowly parted his lips to allow Javier entry, more than a little proud as both men groaned in response. Javier thrust lazily into Dave’s mouth, who flattened his tongue and sucked the tip hard. Held steadily in place, Marcus watched the show, his eyes flicking between Dave’s steely gaze and the sight of seeing the older, sterner agent with a thick dick in between his lips.

Releasing Javier’s cock, Dave began to kiss and lick along the length, pulling hisses and moans from Javier. Still holding an impatient Marcus with one hand, Dave beckoned him forward with the other, flicking the tip of his tongue across the slit of Javier’s cock. With a smirk that made Dave twitch inside the younger man, Marcus slowly leaned forward until he was face to face with Dave.

Then quick as a flash Marcus pounced forward, his lips meeting Dave’s to kiss him sloppily and clumsily with Javier’s girth trapped between their lips.

“Mierda.” Javier growled above them, thrust his cock toward to fuck between their mouths. “Both of you lick it. That’s right… fuck.”

Dave swirled his tongue around the tip while Marcus focused on the shaft, reaching out to fondle and tug on Javier’s balls. Dave kept his eyes fixed on Marcus, watching as the younger man sucked along the length before finding Dave’s lips to give him a slobbering kiss before working his way back up towards Javier's bush.

Satisfied that Marcus wasn’t going to blow his load the second he started to move now, Dave released Javier with a pop, turning his head to look up at the other man.

“I think it’s time to fuck our boy, don’t you?”

Javier frowned for a moment, before a single eyebrow quirked up as he caught onto Dave’s meaning. Glancing at Marcus planted on Dave’s cock, Dave could see the uncertainty in Javier’s eyes. Frowning again, Javier shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

“He can take it.” Dave playfully slapped Marcus’ ass, pulling a surprised yelp and laugh from the young man. “Can’t you, baby boy? Should I send Peña the pictures of you with that red dildo in you?” Looking back over at Javier, Dave grinned, dropping his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I could fit both my hands in him afterward.”

Javier growled, pulling his cock back and away from Marcus and Dave’s lip, and climbed swiftly along the bed until he was behind Marcus again. From his seat atop Dave, Dave felt Marcus shudder in anticipation as Javier busied himself squeezing out more lube.

“You can take it.” Dave soothed, rubbing gently circles on Marcus’ hip. “We’re both going to fill you and it’ll feel so good when you cum.”

Marcus nodded, making a soft needy sound as Javier placed a hand on his back to push him forward slightly. As Marcus folded himself over, resting his face in the crook of Dave’s neck, Dave watched as Javier lined himself up. Dave could feel the other man’s heavily cock resting against the base of his own. Then slowly, achingly slowly, Javier began to push in.

Marcus arched his back and groaned, a low throaty sound that had Dave biting back his own moans as Javier continued to ease his way in. The sensation of Javier’s cock sliding against his own flooded Dave with a dizzying rush of heat that steadily built as the other man stretched Marcus’ entrance, splitting him open until he was fully buried alongside Dave.

Marcus was panting into the crook of Dave’s neck, making soft whimpers and moans while his hole spasmed around them both. Javier’s face was flushed as he locked eyes with Dave, and Dave understood immediately. Despite all the swagger and bullshit earlier, Javier wanted, perhaps needed, Dave to take the lead.

With a simple nod from Dave, Javier began to slowly and cautiously move. Keeping his eyes fixed on Dave, Javier dragged his cock along Dave’s length, the two men held snugly inside Marcus’ ass. The feeling was electrifying, pulling a strangled cry from Marcus along with a muffled curse.

Javier began to roll his hips, tenderly at first, still wary of hurting Marcus, his eyes gazing into Dave’s. Eventually, Marcus lifted his head up, gasping as he looked over his shoulder towards Javier.

“Please.” His voice caught in his throat as he begged. “Fuck... fuck me. Hard. I want it hard.”

“You heard him.” Dave’s eyes never left Javier’s.

Baring his teeth, Javier bucked forward sharply, plunging his length deep into Marcus before withdrawing and jolting forward again. Grabbing Marcus by the shoulders, Javier began to fuck the younger man, taking control of the pace for him and Dave. All the while, Dave met his eye, feeling the lust inside him build as he watched it inside Javier's dark eyes.

Despite his cockiness, Dave had never done anything like this before, and it was taking everything he had to keep his composure. Every nerve sang with Javier’s thrusts. His head throbbed with the intoxicating fog conjured by Marcus’ soft whimpers. All he wanted to do was throw his head back and howl as he came as the heat took over his entire body. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. So Dave held Javier’s eye and watched as the gruff DEA agent came undone.

Red-faced with his breath coming out in bursts from between gritted teeth, Javier pounded into Marcus, the friction of his cock against Dave’s pulling both men closer to the edge quicker than either had anticipated.

“F-fuck.” Javier stuttered, his hips faltering for a couple of strokes. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna…”

“Me too.” Marcus cried out as he came with a shudder, his muscles tensing around the cocks in his ass. With a cry, Dave felt Marcus spilling himself over the older man’s stomach, before collapsing boneless on top of Dave.

Javier kept his eyes locked with Dave as he came, his hips stuttering as Dave felt his cum flooding into Marcus. Dave was almost sure Javier mouthed something to him, but as his own climax hit, Dave’s vision blurred as he tumbled over the edge. Gripping the bedsheets, Dave arched his back as he emptied himself into Marcus.

“How was your meeting?” Carol’s voice was soft in his ear as Dave looked out of the hotel room window out onto the city streets below him. The sun was just beginning to set, sending streaks of orange flaring out into the sky. “Do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“We ran over.” Dave glanced over to the bed and the two men fast asleep in each other’s arms. Shifting the phone to his other ear, Dave wandered over to the hard, modern looking chair, running his hand along the smooth gray fabric. “I’ll be home tomorrow. Afternoon at the latest. The hotel is nice, though.”

“Well, that’s a plus.” His wife laughed before a noise in the background caught her attention. “Oh! I have to go, Cindy’s back with the girls.”

“Ok.” Dave sighed at the mention of their neighbor’s name, the woman Carol had been fucking for two years. “You two have fun.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Carol teased, the sounds of the girls in the background getting louder. “You have your fun, I have mine. Say hi to Marcus for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. I love you.”

“I will.” Dave couldn’t stop himself from giving a soft laugh. “Love you too.”

Hanging up, Dave looked over to the bed and the two naked men, finding them both still sleeping soundly. Marcus resting his head on Javier’s chest smiled contentedly as Javier huffed in his sleep. Climbing into the large bed to sandwich Marcus between him and Javier, Dave settled into the pillows, watching the dust motes dance through the warm beams of light while he waited for his lovers to wake.

taglist: @aurorawritestoescape, @vabeachazn, @perotovar, @morallyinept, @for-a-longlongtime

#javier peña #dave york #marcus pike #narcos #the equalizer 2 #the mentalist #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal characters

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sunshinehaze1 · 10 days ago

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WIP Book Covers

Thank you for the tag @ak-vintage 😘

Similar to previous posts, we’re making Penguin Classic-style book covers for our fics, except this time focusing on our WIPs!

Thank you to @saradika for creating the beautiful template and sharing with us!

On the Right Track (Joel Miller) - working title. no outbreak AU; You board the train to Chicago to find your sleeper cabin has been double booked. 👀

Whoa, Baby! (Frankie Morales) - working title. Your neighbor receives an unexpected delivery on his doorstep one morning. You help him adapt to this life change, along with his roommates and old army buddies, Javi Peña & Marcus Pike (a la Three Men and a Baby). *Inspired by The Materialists set pic with Pedro giving off major Tom Selleck vibes and brain went brrrr.*

Walking on Sunshine (Frankie Morales) - *pt 2 of dog walker!Frankie AU written for @punkshort August AU Challenge.* You and Frankie visit the dog shelter and have your first date.

npt: @almostempty @80ssong @nerdieforpedro @justagalwhowrites @auteurdelabre @magpiepills @baronessvonglitter

#tag game #wip #fic cover #joel miller #frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal characters

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daddydindjarin · 2 years ago

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The Long and Winding Road Part V: The Revelation

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no physical description of the Reader given)

Rating: 18+ Explicit, PIV, no protection (wrap it up folks)!

Wordcount: 5169

Summary: An understanding and a talk about feelings, followed by pure action.

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics! Thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @djarinsbeskar who are my absolute rocks, and looked over this for me about a thousand times while I cried in the corner cause I’m a nervous bean. And thank you as always to my discord besties for encouraging me, and screaming with me over Francisco Morales.

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A bright sun.

Leaves filtering the light, casting shadows on grass that was too green to be real.

A gentle breeze softening the afternoon heat as it danced over your skin.

Frankie leaning against the tree, watching the leaves move with the breeze, and then finding your eyes and smiling somehow brighter than the sun, his arm extending, reaching for your hand.

Your hand passing through his without so much as a whisper of a touch.

Frankie frowns, standing straight. You watch his panic rise, not understanding what was happening. You raise your hand to the sun, watching the light through your now opaque hand, before finding Franking again. Tears burn behind your eyes, and you long to touch him, your hand hovering over his arms. He’s yelling, but no sound escapes him, you can’t hear anything.

Not him, not the leaves, not your own heart beating.

You close your eyes and try to feel the sun one more time before feeling nothing at all.

-----------

The coffee percolating was what pulled you from your dreams (nightmare?) and into the land of the living. You laid under the covers for a few more moments, shaking the dream away, trying not to read too much into it. It was just the alcohol, you told yourself, burying your face deeper into the pillows.

“Good morning,” Frankie called from possibly the bathroom, laughing at your answering groan. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you replied from under the covers, unsure if he heard you. You opened your mouth to ask him if he was hungover too, remembering all the drinks you consumed last night, but in your rewind of the night, you don’t remember Frankie drinking much at all. What you do remember is him taking care of you, him making you drink water, him giving you a ride back to the hotel on his back, and…

And….

Your face burns, recalling how you undressed in front of him, desperate to have his hands on you. The alcohol had made you brave, and you had begged him for more than he was willing to give, a gentleman to his core. You pull the covers tighter over your head, embarrassment flooding your body.

How were you going to face him? Sure, you could just blame it on the alcohol, but it was you making those choices, uninhibited by self-restraint and respect for him. You had just decided on living the rest of your days under these blankets when you felt the bed dip next to you.

“You gonna come out, or are you gonna spend all day under there worrying about something you shouldn’t be worried about?”

You peeked your head out from under the covers, and Frankie was there, giving you a crooked smile, and holding out a glass of water for you. “You need to drink some of this, and then you can have coffee.”

Neither of you moved, guilt clawing at the back of your throat and sitting like a rock in your stomach until it forced itself up and past your lips. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes downcast, tracing the stitching on the blanket. “I’m so sorry that I acted like that.”

Frankie shook his head, looking earnest. “You don’t have to apologize, you’re okay.”

Your cheeks burned, glancing up at his kind face and bright eyes. He was backlit by the morning sun, giving his dark hair a halo of light, making him look like the angel you considered him. You wanted him so badly, your fingers twitching against the blanket. You moved suddenly, throwing the blanket off your legs, and scrambling off the side of the bed.

Frankie jerked, his hands moving in your direction, “Hey, wha-“

“Shower!” You blurted out, pulling at the hem of your shirt. “I’m gonna go shower. Make myself human again.”

You grabbed the first clean looking piece of clothing you could find, refusing to look in Frankie’s direction, but you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. As you slid the bathroom door shut, you snuck a glance in his direction, catching the way his jaw clenched before he disappeared from view.

‘What is wrong with me?’ You thought, stripping down, tossing your sleep mussed clothes into the corner on top of Frankie’s. You turned the water about as hot as it could go, and stood on the cold tile while steam filled the bathroom. Brushing your teeth quickly, you watched yourself in the mirror, glaring at the mascara on your cheeks, hating that this is what Frankie had to see.

Of course, he probably felt bad for you, and like he had to take care of you. Which was something you didn’t want- not from him, not from anyone.

But, you thought, stepping into the burning water, and sighing as your muscles instantly relaxed, Frankie didn’t seem like the type who would just hang around you out of some misguided sense of obligation. He was a good guy, and getting you back to the hotel safe and in one piece was just who he was a person. He’d have done it for a stranger, you were sure, because that’s just who Frankie was. Plain and simple, he was good.

You could write off part of last night, but what about everything else? The way he paid attention to how you liked your tea in the morning and afternoon, always preferring that to coffee.

The way he had picked up on your medication time frame, and would check that you hadn’t forgotten to take it as you were wont to do. He wouldn’t have spent time learning these small things about you if it was just him being good. Wouldn’t have picked you up from the side of the road, or bandaged your knee. Wouldn’t have touched you so tenderly, like you were a precious stone, easy to break, but put back together with a band-aid and kiss.

Wouldn’t have turned you down when he had the opportunity to lean into your booze filled decisions, or said the things he did.

You mulled this revelation over, feeling your heart beat a pattern that would match the beat Frankie’s fingers would drum on the steering wheel. You still had reservations about your feelings, but Frankie made it so easy to care for him. He was kind, and genuine, putting your feelings and needs above his own, even when you wished he wouldn’t. He was respectful, and had proven time and time again that he wasn’t one to take advantage of you. Would it really be so bad to let him in? To share yourself with him completely for however long the two of you had left?

The water started cooling, and you turned it off, quickly drying yourself off and pulling on your clothes- a pair of sweatpants and a Tampa Bay Titans t-shirt that definitely belonged to Frankie, that you grabbed by accident. You could throw on your sleep shirt again, but Frankie’s scent soothed your frayed nerves, so you slipped it on, breathing deeply and sliding open the door, met with the sight of Frankie still sitting where you left him, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and when he finally met you, you watched his eyes visibly darken, his tongue running across his lower lip, drawing your eyes to trace its path, wishing it was your own.

He was silent for a beat, and then asked, “Did you mean it?”

“What?” You replied, your eyes darting up to meet his. There was a fire behind his eyes, and you were frozen, unable to move as he continued.

“You said that you wanted me last night,” he replied, his gaze steady, never wavering from your own. “Did you mean that? I’m not going to be upset if that’s not the case, or anything like that. I get what it’s like not being in your right state of mind, and just saying things. But I need to know if you meant it.”

You straightened, your fingers clenched, nerves lighting up with anxiety. “I meant it Frankie. I meant every word.” Watching his face closely for any sign of disgust, or pity. “I’ve felt this way for the last few weeks, if we’re being honest.”

Frankie grinned and stood, coming to a stop in front of you in two large steps. “I felt it too,” he said in a low voice, his fingers grazing your hand where it hung by your side. “Probably since the first day.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, anticipation mounting. You knew there was still a lot you needed to say, more you needed to think about but right now? Right now nothing else mattered except Frankie and the way he was looking at you. “Frankie?” you murmured, turning your hand to link your fingers together loosely, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” he responded, his eyes moving down to your mouth, and you resisted the urge to bite your lip.

“If I asked you to kiss me right now, what would you do?”

“Well,” he said, his hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck, squeezing the sensitive skin there slightly. “I’d probably have to kiss you, if you asked me nicely.”

“Frankie?” You were a hair’s breadth away from him, watching the storm rage in his eyes, his eyes so dark there was very little brown left.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me?”

The words had barely left your mouth, and his lips were on yours, soft but insistent in the way they molded to you. He smelled like sleep and sun, and you breathed in against him as you pulled away for air for just a moment, before you came crashing back together. His tongue brushed your bottom lip and you opened for him, not able to stop the whimper that fell from your lips.

Frankie groaned at the sound, his other hand gripping your waist and pulling you closer, until you were flush against him, every inch of you touching him, your hands buried in his curls, and gently tugging. Everything seems to come to a halt around you, and you didn’t care if you were struck by lightning at that moment, as long as Frankie kept kissing you.

His lips moved to your jaw, peppering kisses along it, nipping at your chin. Your head tilted to the side, giving him unfettered access to your neck. He seized the opportunity and lavished his attention there, his fingers at your back finding your skin under your thin sleep shirt, firm in their quest to pull you closer to him. He felt like fire and ice at once, lighting you up from the outside as he made you shiver, his kisses more insistent with every sigh that he pulled from you.

His hands on your hips pulled you with him as he started walking backwards, pulling you with him towards the bed, but refusing to halt in kissing you. His knees hit the mattress and he stumbled back, sitting down heavily, and you laughed softly as he looked up at you, almost pouting that he had to stop kissing you. “C’mere, baby,” he murmured, pulling you down to straddle his thighs.

Your knees rested on the mattress on either side of his legs, hovering over him slightly, worried to put too much weight down on him. Frankie was having none of that, his large hands spreading across your ass and groping you, practically spreading you for him from behind. You gasped, pushing your ass back into his hands as he pushed you down against him while his hips jerked upwards to meet him. You dropped your hips, grinding against his growing bulge, clinging to him for all you were worth. The friction against your clit wasn’t nearly enough to do anything but make your pussy weep, your underwear a causality in your desperation for this man. His arms banded around your waist, helping you move against him as he sucked a bruise on your collarbone.

“Fuck baby,” he gasped out, his hips jerking under you. You whined in response, tugging firmly on his curls to get his mouth back on yours. He evaded your lips, his nose instead nudging against yours gently, and you slowed down, your hips slowly rolling against him.

“Feels good,” you whispered, dragging your mouth along his patchy beard, placing a kiss at a heart shaped bare patch that you had been obsessed with for a while. “I may have gotten over-excited.”

“No, Hermosa, don’t apologize for feeling good,” he said, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “I just want to savor you. Want to take my time with you. And if we keep going like this, I’m gonna end up cumming in fuckin’ pants.”

You grinned down at him, hands cupping his cheeks to press a sweet kiss to his mouth. You stayed like that for a few moments, trading kisses like secrets, your hips not stopping their circuit, just enjoying the feeling of his length brushing your core just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Feel what you do to me, Hermosa?” Frankie gasped out, his fingers digging into your hips so hard you were sure they were going to leave bruises. “Need you to lay back.”

He helped to reposition you on your back, pausing to practically rip his shirt off of his back, before he kissed away your pout, and started moving down your body, his fingers feather-light against your skin. He skimmed the neckline of your- his- shirt, his fingers grazing the tops of your breast, and your back arched into his touch, your fingers gripping his arms, your eyes roving over his golden skin. “Please, Frankie…”

“You look good in my clothes, baby. Feel free to wear them any time.” Grinning, he slipped your shirt up and over your head, his fingers coming back to dance along the underside of your breasts. “Goddamn,” he breathed, his mouth finding the stiff peak of your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking harshly and moving to show the same attention to your other one. “Fucking beautiful.”

You blushed, gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to find something to ground you as Frankie mapped his way down your body, dipping his fingers under your sweats. His hands ran up and down your thighs, his eyes catching yours. “Can I take these off, Hermosa?” It sounded like a plea, like a man begging for absolution that only you could give.

Nodding, you lifted your hips so Frankie could pull them off you, throwing them to the floor, and then he sat back and just…looked. You watched his eyes roam every part of you, taking in every mark he’d left on your body so far, his eyes calculating where he still had yet to leave others. His hand stroked the inside of your thighs, pushing gently. “Let me see you, pretty girl.”

You spread your thighs, and he pushed them open farther, far enough to get his broad shoulders between them as he settled on the mattress on his stomach. He pressed a kiss directly to the top of your mound, and then parted your folds with his nose, breathing you in.

“Frankie,” you gasped out, feeling his lips graze softly over your clit, your hips jerking off the bed. His long arms circle your thighs, holding you down and into place as he grumbles against your sensitive skin.

“Need you to stay still for me, Hermosa. Let me taste you,” he licked a stripe up the center of your pussy, his tongue barely dipping inside of you, and then coming back to your clit. He teased around the edges, taking his time, savoring the taste of you, interrupted only by his groans, and praises. Telling you how good you tasted, how perfect you were for him, how badly he wanted you.

And then he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, and you were seeing stars.

You couldn’t have stopped your hips moving if you had tried, reaching the crest of your orgasm faster than you ever had. You rolled your hips against his face, begging him for more, your fingers gripping the sheets so hard you thought they would rip. He drank heavily from the source, your slick and his spit coating your skin and his.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” his voice was thick with want and full of awe. His hand moved to your entrance, your walls giving away easily under the constant pressure of his finger. He pumped in and out slowly, letting you get used to the feeling before adding a second. You leaned into the stretch of him, clenching down when he found that sweet spot inside of you that you could never quite reach with your own fingers, and you practically mewled for him like a cat in heat.

“Fuckin’ use me to get off sweetheart. Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? I barely touched you and you’re gonna come for me again, huh? Gonna fuck yourself on my fingers?”

“Please, please, please,” you pleaded, practically writing under him. He was right, you were quickly approaching a second orgasm, between the way he was expertly playing with your clit with his tongue, his fingers pistoning inside you, and his goddamn voice talking you through your high. “Need you, Frankie. Want you.”

“C’mon, sweetheart, come for me again. Lemme see you come on my fingers.” He didn’t stop moving, but you felt him add a third finger, the stretch burning slightly and you hissed, it turning into a whine as he slowed down slightly. “Gotta get you ready for me baby, need you to come again. Can you do that for me?”

His hand picked up speed again, and he hummed his approval as you humped against his hand, his tongue swirling against your sensitive nub. You felt his teeth graze you, and he pressed up with his fingers inside you and you were done for, cumming so hard you sat up, your abdominal muscles clenching in protest at the onslaught of tension rippling across your body. He didn’t let up, fucking into you faster than it seemed possible till you were gushing around him, and you could just barely hear the obscene sounds of him drinking you down over your pounding heart.

You released the sheets to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling him up and away from your pussy as your sensitivity started to turn to just this side of painful. He pulled his fingers from you slowly, his eyes meeting yours as he greedily stuck them into his mouth to suck the remaining juice from them with a smirk. You laughed, pulling him down to lay fully on top of you, his hand leaving his mouth to reset both of them on either side of your head as he kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, heady and tangy, his mustache and chin glistening with your arousal.

You wrapped your tongue around his, taking everything he had to offer and more, determined to show him how much you cared for him, and how appreciative you were in a kiss. Your body was loose, legs shaking, but you were ready for more. You didn’t think you’d ever want less of whatever Frankie wanted to give you. Your hands slid from the back of his neck to skim across his firm chest, marveling at how warm he was, not for the first time. You had joked before that he was a massive space heater, and he felt good against your still shaking hands.

You traced your way down his body as the two of you kissed, and you could feel him, hot and heavy against your thigh. You felt the banded muscles in his arms, and the thickness of his wrist. You dipped into the contours of his back, his skin rippling as he moved above, and you smiled into his mouth- he kissed with his entire body. You razed his sides, making a note of the way he jerked slightly- ticklish?- and lavished attention on his stomach, slightly rounded but firm, a dusting of hair leading down to where you were most interested at this moment in time. You played with his happy trail for a minute, fingers smoothing over the soft hair there, before your hand slipped under his pants and you gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock and gently squeeze.

Frankie breathed in deeply through his nose, refusing to leave your lips even as his hips jerked under your hold on him, the restraint he was showing immense. His hips moved ever so slightly as your hand slid to the tip to gather the precum he was dribbling into his underwear, leaving a wet, sticky patch in the fabric of his pants. You fingers were coated in him, and you pumped him slowly, delighting in the way he whimpered into your mouth. You grinned, pulling away for air, and to look at his face, wanting to see the way you were affecting him.

His mouth was open slightly, the tips of his ears red, his eyes hooded and gaze dark as you kept your movements up. He was fucking beautiful, and His breathing was becoming more labored, and you picked up speed, but his hand shot down to grab your wrist, pulling it away from him with a groan. “You’re determined to make me cum in pants, aren’t you?” He panted, and your hands landed firmly on his hips, pushing his pants down as far as you could reach till his cock sprang out, bobbing heavily. Your mouth was practically watering, and you felt the impatience rising, wanting him inside of you now, your trance only broken by a quiet, “ah, shit.”

You looked up at him, his face etched with concern. “What?” you asked, feeling your chest tighten. “Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. “Baby, I don’t have a condom.”

Gently cupping his cheeks, you kissed him gently, smiling up at him. “It’s okay. I have a birth control implant, and I got tested before we left. Are you clean?”

Frankie nodded, pressing a kiss into your palm. “Got tested about 6 months ago and I haven’t slept with anyone since then.”

You grinned, dropping a kiss on his lips, your hands sliding down to his hips. “Good, that’s settled then.”

Frankie still looked unsure, balancing on one hand to grasp your chin with his other, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Are you one hundred percent sure? You can say no right now, and I’m not going to be upset.”

You laughed, lifting your hips slightly, letting him brush against your wet folds. “Frankie, am I going to have to ask you nicely to fuck me too?”

He chuckled, kissing you softly again, and shaking his head. “I just don’t want to be something you regret.”

He had laughed while saying that, but your heart ached for the honestly behind the seemingly lighthearted words. Someone had once made him feel as though he was something to be ashamed of, something to regret, and you made a silent promise that you would die before ever letting Frankie feel that way with you.

“Frankie, I promise you, this is what I want. I want you, in whatever way you’re comfortable having me. But I would very much like to have you inside me.”

His eyes darkened again, and he kissed you once more, no longer soft and gentle. This was a demanding kiss, and you whined softly as he took himself in hand and started rubbing the fat tip of his cock through your folds, coming to rest against your clit as he slowly rocked there, the head catching on every down stroke. You could feel your breath picking up as he notched himself at your entrance, pushing forward slowly.

The stretch of him was magnificent, the pleasure drowning out the burn from taking his girth. Frankie was massive, and he was taking his time opening you up, watching where he was disappearing inside of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight.”

He kept moving forward until he was hilted, pausing to give you time to adjust to him inside you. You were already blissed out, so full you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You felt as though you had no control over your body, your back arching slightly from the pleasure. “Frankie, move, please,” you could hear the high litany of your voice pleading with him, and he groaned when you clenched down on him, his voice raspy as he started to move.

“So fucking perfect,” he said, sitting back on his heels for more leverage. It changed the angle enough to push him that much deeper, and you met him thrust for thrust. “So goddamn wet, and tight, and perfect.”

He was babbling now, a never ending stream of filth leaving his mouth as his thrusts got harder, and deeper. You were gushing around his cock, the obscene squelch of your joining only making it that much hotter for you. You could hear yourself begging him for something, but fuck if you knew what for, unable to think of anything beside the way he was making you feel.

You felt him press firmly on your lower abdomen, and you couldn’t stop the shout that left you, your hips bucking under his hand.

“Feel that baby?” he asked, not waiting for your answer, “Can feel my cock all the way up here, fucking you so deep. Gonna keep you on my cock till you can’t take it any more.”

That sounded perfect to you, you thought, your hands reaching for something, anything, and finding his, your fingers linking together as his pace started to falter. He moved his hand from your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, and you came suddenly, your body seizing around him, clenching against him as your back arched off the bed.

Frankie let out a strangled noise, fucking you through your orgasm, watching you fall over the peak and land in a daze. He was still talking to you, letting you know how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how you were practically sucking him in with how hard you were clenching around him. He wasn’t far behind you, fucking you at a brutual pace, and begging you with a “Where baby? Tell me where to cum. Please, fuck, please tell me.”

“Inside,” you whined, wrapping your legs tightly around his back, your arms reaching up to pull him down to you, “cum inside me, Frankie. Wanna feel you dripping out of me.”

He whimpered, giving you a few more hard thrusts before you felt the hot ropes of his spend burning you from the inside out, his arms shaking from the effort of holding himself above you. You tugged at him gently and he all but collapsed against you, his head resting against your chest as he eased his full body weight down on you, which was exactly what you wanted. Your breaths matched, both chests heaving against the exertion. He was still inside you, the fullness satiating you further, basking in the afterglow. You smoothed the hair back from his sweaty forehead and dropped a kiss to it, brushing another to his nose, and when he tilted his face up to look at you, you softly kissed his lips, the backs of your fingers caressing the high point of his cheek.

The two of you stayed like that until he was soft enough to slip from inside you, your face heating up as you felt him dripping from you and onto the bed sheets. You idly thought that you should have put a towel down, sorry for the housekeepers that were going to have to clean this up after you. Frankie shifted, pushing up and off of you, hovering over your body, his eyes raking over you, and you’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his cum was still leaking for your body, something you didn’t think you’d find as hot as you did.

“Shit, Hermosa,” he grunted, watching you squeeze your thighs together to help slow the dribble. “Keep making that face, and we might not leave this bed.”

You laughed, raising your arms to stroke gentle paths up and down your body. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea to me, not if you’re in the bed with me.”

He groaned, tearing his eyes away from where your hands cupped your breasts, lifting them towards him slightly in an offering. “Who is this bruja, and what has she done with the sweet girl who was scared to share a bed with me?” He pushed himself off the bed, heading for the bathroom. You heard the water run, and then he was reappearing with a washcloth, the bed dipping under the weight of his knee. His large palm ran up the inside of your leg, and pushed them open, spreading them wide enough to help clean you up, erasing the traces of him from your skin.

“I was nervous about sharing a bed,” you said, your voice catching on your embarrassment, “because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with how much I wanted you. Didn’t want to chase you off.”

Frankie nodded, tossing the washcloth into the corner, and he flopped down next to you, pulling you into the circle of his arms. “Believe it or not, I was worried about the same thing. Been worried about it since Savannah.”

“Really?” You laughed, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “I would have never guessed.”

“Really,” he replied, the crinkles by his eyes prominent as he smiled at you. “All those little shorts you got? Thought I was gonna go crazy, you sitting next to me all leg and not being able to touch you.”

You grinned, snuggling into him. “Well, sir, you can touch me as much as you want. I promise I don’t mind.”

“Careful little girl,” he shot back, his arms squeezing just a hair tighter. “Don’t tempt me, or you definitely won’t be leaving this bed.”

Mischief danced across your features as your hand snuck down between you, your fingers finding your still soaked slit. You gathered the moisture on your fingers before cupping him, feeling him starting to harden in your grasp. “Seems like you’re up for the challenge.”

With a growl, he flipped your positions, biting gently at your shoulder as you squealed and laughed with him, happiness settling deep in your stomach.

When housekeeping knocked a few hours later, twin shouts of “We’re okay,” were heard from outside, followed by more laughter and the unmistakable sound of the bed frame knocking against the wall. You didn’t leave the room until well into the afternoon, holding hands as you walked into the French Quarter again.

-------

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#the long and winding road #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fiction

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all-the-things-2020 · 9 months ago

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Continuing the Way - Chapter Six

Summary: Mariana tells Din and her coworkers the news.

Rating: PG

The moment Mariana walked through the door, Din knew something was bothering her. His plan to tell her about his encounter with Isard was forgotten. “You’re home early. What’s wrong?,” he asked as she dropped her bag on the table.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just wasn’t getting much work done so I decided to come home and see my favorite boys.” She dropped to her knees and hugged the boys, who had come running as soon as they heard her unlocking the door.

“Mommy, bad man came,” Cabur told her. “Daddy said NO. I said you go! Bad man went away.” He acted out the whole scene, shaking his finger as he told her how Din had said “No” and pointing fiercely as he told her how he’d told Isard to go away.

“A bad man?” Mariana asked, looking up at Din.

He shrugged. “We ran into Jado Isard on the way home from the park,” he said briefly. “I had to tell him no again, but this time I think he got the message, thanks to Cabur.” He tousled the boy’s hair. Ad’ika shot him a sideways glance, but remained silent, letting his brother take all the credit. Din made a mental note to slip Ad’ika a little extra dessert before bedtime.

“Well, that must have been exciting,” Mariana said. “Why don’t we get cleaned up for dinner and you can tell me all about it while we eat?”

She seemed distracted as she helped him wash the boys’ hands and faces, and picked half-heartedly at her dinner. “Something’s up,” he said quietly, while the boys were busy eating. “Tell me.”

“Nothing,” she said. “Just a little tired.”

Din watched her closely. Her eyes looked a bit red, and the skin around them was puffy. She’d been crying.

“You had that med clinic appointment today,” he realized, blurting it out before thinking. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted, a fake smile on her face. “I’m perfectly healthy, cyar’ika. I just … I have a little problem at work that’s been bothering me.” She shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it later, after the boys are asleep.”

She wouldn’t lie to him, so he took her at her word. Physically, she was fine, which was a relief, and he knew she’d confide in him when she was ready. Still, he did his best to tire the boys out after dinner so they’d be ready for bed early. If Mariana noticed, she gave no indication, her nose buried in her data pad as she studied for her upcoming exams.

Din bathed the boys himself, which he’d been doing a lot lately anyway, with Mariana working late so often and tucked them in with a bedtime story about a baby Mythosaur that he’d made up in desperation one night, and that had become one of Cabur’s favorites. When both boys finally drifted off to sleep, Din kissed them goodnight and went to join Mariana on the couch.

“Okay, they’re asleep,” he said. “So tell me what’s bothering you.”

Mariana put her data pad aside. “I … I just have a decision to make,” she began hesitantly. “One I don’t want to have to make but one that’s unavoidable.”

Din took her hand. “Tell me,” he urged.

She sighed. “You know I’ve been asked to coordinate the bibliography project for the Galactic History Consortium.” He nodded. “And I have classes. And I’m working for Professor Ti’lik.” She paused and he knew she was fighting back tears. “I’m going to have to give up something,” she said quietly. “Either the bibliography project or classes next term. I … I can’t do both.”

“Why not?” Din asked. “I thought Ti’lik was giving you some time off from her research project so you can concentrate on the Consortium project.”

“She is, but … there’s another project that I didn’t know about,” she said with a strange smile.

Din shook his head. “I’m confused.”

“When I was at the med clinic, I asked about replacing my contraceptive implant when it expires,” she said. “But turns out I was a little confused about the dates and it already expired … so I asked if we could replace it now and the doctor said she couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Din asked, although he was starting to suspect the answer.

“Because there’s no point in having an implant when you’re already pregnant,” Mariana said, squeezing his hand.

“A baby?” Din asked. “We’re having another baby?” He knew Mariana had mixed feelings about being pregnant right now but he felt a grin creeping over his face.

“Yes,” she said. He kissed her, then sat back. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“You’re happy, aren’t you?,” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” she said quickly. “I just … the timing isn’t good … I was so excited about the Consortium project and I only have a few classes left to finish for my degree.” She pressed her forehead against his. “I don’t know what to do, Din.”

“What do you want to do?,” he asked.

“I want to do it all,” she said, exasperated. “I want to finish my degree, and work on the project for the Consortium, and the project for Professor Ti’lik, and be a good mother, and … I just can’t. I can’t do it all.” She started sobbing quietly and Din wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, cyar’ika,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do it all. I’m here. We’ll figure this out.” He rubbed her back as she cried onto his shoulder.

“I can’t give up my job,” she said into his shirt. “We’d lose the subsidized housing, and the health care, and my free tuition. But if I keep working, I can’t take classes next term. Maybe not even the term after that.”

“You can’t quit school,” Din said.

“But the job is more important right now,” she said. “We’ve got the boys to think of.”

“Then keep working for Ti’lik and give up the Consortium project,” he suggested. “I know it’s a big deal, and a great move career-wise, but getting your degree is the most important thing, after the family.”

She sighed against him. “I know,” she said. “I just … I was supposed to meet with Professor Dane next week to give him an outline of my proposal for the project. Now I’ll have to tell him I can’t do it. I feel like I’m letting him down.”

“You aren’t letting anyone down, cyar’ika,” Din said. “You’re putting your family first. And the project isn’t even really off the ground yet, so it shouldn’t be too hard for him to find someone else to coordinate it.”

He kept on talking, comforting her as best he could, all while the thought, Another baby, another baby, we’re having another babybounced around inside his head. Finally, she pulled away from his shoulder enough to look him in the eye.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know you want to celebrate, and believe me, my love, I am truly happy about this.” She ran her finger down his nose, then let the tip linger on his lips. “I just wasn’t prepared for it.”

He smiled against her finger, then kissed it gently. “It’s a nice surprise,” he said.

“And at least this time when I found out, you were here, not off on some quest to preserve the honor of Mandalore,” she said, snuggling close.

“Um, about that …,” Din said.

She sat up, looking him in the eye. “What?”

“Before I told Isard to get lost again, he told me why he wanted my help,” he said carefully. “He claims to have the location of the wreck of an Old Republic ship that is rumored to have a cargo that included a large stash of beskar. He needs to pay off a debt to a Hutt, and he offered me half of whatever’s left after he pays that off … and all the beskar.” He looked down, ashamed to keep her gaze. “I … I was tempted. For about thirty seconds, until Ad’ika brought me to my senses.”

“We have enough beskar,” Mariana chided him softly, taking his hand and caressing his ring.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I sent a comm to the Mand’alor before you got home. I told her what Isard told me, and suggested she send someone to ‘persuade’ him to divulge the coordinates to her. If that cache of beskar really does exist, no one deserves it more than the people of Mandalore.”

“And you’re willing to let the glory of repatriating it go to someone else?,” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “A Mandalorian should retrieve it. And I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

She kissed him slowly. “No, you aren’t,” she said as she pulled back. “Are you okay with that?”

He slipped one arm behind her to pull her close, while the other pressed against her belly, searching for the child he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel yet, but that he already loved so fiercely. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m your husband. Ad’ika and Cabur’s father. This child’s father. That’s more than enough for me.”

***************************** The first thing Mariana did when she arrived at work the next day was contact the department secretary to find out Professor Dane’s schedule. He had two lectures in the morning, with a twenty minute break between them, and she set a reminder on her data pad so she could be at the lecture hall in time to catch him during the break.

Then she told Professor Ti’lik the news. “I am overjoyed for you,” Ti’lik said, wrapping here in an embrace so tight, Mariana was afraid she might have damaged a rib. “Bearing an offspring is a tremendous honor among my species. Of course, our gestation is much longer than yours, and entails a great deal of sacrifice of time and physical strength.” She’d told Mariana a bit about the ordeal of bearing her two offspring years ago, of the time spent sitting still so the fragile egg inside her gestation pocket did not break, of the long months after the egg hatched protecting the youngling as it grew in the pocket, of the arduous process of extracting the offspring from the pocket when it had grown large enough to survive in the outside world. It made human pregnancy seem like a minor inconvenience.

“Thank you,” she told Ti’lik once she could breathe again. “I need to talk to Professor Dane between his morning lectures, if that’s okay.”

Ti’lik huffed. “You don’t have to ask my permission, you know that.”

Mariana fidgeted with the items on her desk, not getting a bit of work done, until it was time to leave for the lecture hall. Professor Dane was just finishing up his first lecture when she arrived, and she waited in the hallway until the last student was gone.

“Mariana!” Dane said when he saw her come in. “I thought our meeting was next week!”

“It is,” she said. “But I needed to talk to you about something that can’t wait until then.”

He waved her further into the room and offered her a seat in the front row of the lecture hall, then sat down next to her. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m … I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your offer to coordinate the Consortium Bibliography project,” she said quietly.

Dane blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said. “I just got a comm yesterday from Sian Tevv saying you’d asked him to join your team. He was very excited.”

“I know,” Mariana said. “But my situation has changed since I contacted him. I’m not going to have as much free time next term as I thought I would.”

“Why not? Professor Ti’lik said you’re ahead of schedule on her project,” Dane frowned.

“I found out yesterday that I’m pregnant,” she said.

“Congratulations,” Dane said. “But I still don’t understand why you have to give up the Consortium project.”

Mariana shook her head. “I can’t work for Ti’lik and take classes and do the bibliography project and still take care of myself,” she admitted. “I have to keep working, or I’ll lose the subsidized housing and my health care access. And I can’t quit school when I’m so close to getting my degree. My husband and I talked it over and it makes the most sense that I give up the Consortium project now while you have time to find someone else to take over.”

Dan sat back and nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like you’ve thought this out thoroughly,” he said after a moment, “but you’re forgetting one important bit of information.”

“What?” Mariana asked. “I’ve gone over the situation a million times.” She sighed in frustration.

Dane leaned forward and patted her hand. “One of the requirements for receiving a degree is completing a capstone project,” he said. “I don’t see why you can’t use the Consortium project for that. That way you’ll still earn credits this term without having to take any classes.”

“But, I thought I had to finish all the required courses before I could start a capstone,” she said.

Dane shrugged. “It’s not the way we normally do things, but we don’t normally hire undergraduates as research assistants, either.” He sat forward. “Ti’lik went out on a limb to hire you, and frankly some of us thought she was being a bit foolish, but you both proved us wrong, Mariana. I want you to join the department as soon as you’re qualified, and if we have to make a few unorthodox accommodations to make that happen, so be it.”

She sat back in her seat. Could it possibly be this easy to resolve her dilemma? “You don’t know what a relief this is,” she said after a long moment. “I’ve been fretting about this ….” She started laughing. “I guess that’s why you’re the professor and I’m still the student, right?”

Dane patted her shoulder. “The student will soon surpass the teacher,” he said, “but I’m glad I still have the advantage.” He stood up. “I need to prepare for my next lecture, but we’ll talk more at our meeting next week. And don’t worry about next term. We’ll work it all out. The most important thing is that you take care of yourself and that baby.” He smiled. “Give my best to your husband and those adorable boys of yours.”

Mariana was surprised. She’d never shown Professor Dane any holos of her sons. He chuckled. “Ti’lik showed me a holo she took on the day of the employee picnic,” he explained. “She is quite enamored of the older one. I think it’s because she has those green patches on her arms.” He winked. Ti’lik was very proud of her green patches, which meant she’d borne offspring, but she got gently teased by her colleagues for sometimes going a bit too far to show them off.

Her heart was much lighter as she walked back to the office. Ti’lik was not there, so she took the opportunity to comm Din and tell him what Professor Dane had said.

“Oh, cyar’ika, that’s wonderful,” he said, before ducking out of camera range to grab at something that one of the boys had pulled off the table where he’d propped his data pad. “Leave that alone,” his muffled voice said. “I’m talking to Mommy.” His head popped back into view. “Sorry about that. Cabur distracted me while Ad’ika stole my sonic spanner.”

“What are you fixing that needs a sonic spanner?,” she asked, stifling a laugh.

“Building a spaceship,” he said matter of factly. He held up a jumble of metal about the size of his forearm. “It was decided that the tauntauns need their own ship.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Well, good luck with that,” she said. “I’ll be home early tonight.”

“We’ll have dinner waiting for you,” Din said before a loud crash echoed behind him. “Kriff, what are you doing now, Ad’ika?” The comm link went dark and Mariana stopped stifling her laugh. She giggled for a good five minutes before she was able to get her mind back on her work.

Welcome to the circus, little one, she thought, addressing the child in her belly for the first time. Now that the initial shock had worn off, and her worries about work and school had been allayed, she was able to enjoy the prospect of bringing another Djarin into the world. I just hope the galaxy can handle five of us.

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x original female character #grogu #baby yoda #pedro pascal character fiction

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milla-frenchy · 7 months ago

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Owned

354 words | Joel Miller x fem reader Warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, possessiveness, piv, creampie a/n: Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 and @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

series masterlist | Masterlist | ao3

“Fuck…spread your legs for me. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel was holding your knees on either side of your head, hands resting on the back of your thighs, as he was thrusting in hard and fast. His gaze was down at your pussy taking his big cock, splitting you in two, and sometimes your mouth could barely make any sounds other than moans.

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, baby girl? Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to ruin my cunt, daddy…”

“Fuck…I'm already holding back from sending my load baby…this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

He sped up slightly, to give you what you wanted and gritted his teeth, frowning.

“That’s what you wanted, baby girl? Gettin’ your little cunt fucked like a good little slut?”

“Yes, daddy…just like that.”

“Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“You, daddy. It’s yours.”

“And when he fucks you, whose pussy is that?”

“Still yours. Only yours. Always.”

He growled, as if it was turning him on even more, as he was still thrusting, even deeper and harder than 10 seconds before.

“Fuck, fuck. Touch yourself, baby girl. Not gonna last. Come on my cock.”

You slipped your finger into his mouth for him to lick it. He looked like a wreck. His curls falling to the side of his face and his sweat was sliding down them.

Your finger twirled over your clit, your mouth parted in pleasure.

“He fucks you like that?”

“No, daddy. Not even close.”

“Good. Come on, baby, come for me.”

And you did as he asked. Like you always did. Responding to his every whim as he responded to yours. Your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter, pulsing on him.

“Oooooh…baby girl…fuck yeah, just like that…Damn I’m gonna come, baby…Gonna fill this pussy. My pussy…Oh god….” He didn’t stop talking even when his cum covered your walls, and you grabbed his cheeks to kiss him.

Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and you wondered when you would finally dare to break up with his son.

Same "couple": Owned collection

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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 16 🍒

"The Mother Wound"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,882

Summary: When your mom comes to town for a surprise visit, she reveals everything she know about your romance with Joel, and discloses some secrets of her own.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), set in summer 2003, reader wears a dress, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, fluff, slut shaming (wrongful, obviously), physical abuse (a slap), language!, accusations of grooming, protective!Joel, your awful mom being awful and telling a horrendous lie, angst, breakup as in "I need time to think", no use of y/n, if I've l left any out please let me know!

Author's Note: the whole "daddy" thing from Chapter 14 is finally put to rest. I wouldn't do that to y'all, this is not Literotica. If I can think of any other notes I'll add them later as it's 1 a.m. and I need to get some sleep.

Series Masterlist

Can't see you tonight, babygirl. Working late over on Sage Street

You look over the text Joel sent you just an hour ago, and make sure the street is the correct one as the signs are hard to read in the darkness of the late night. But there are only a couple houses being constructed among the empty lots, golden beams of wood forging the bones of the unfinished brand new homes. Joel's truck is parked right outside the first one you see.

He's hunched over a table beneath a portable LED light, overlooking layout plans, a small radio nearby playing a song with a guitar riff that's familiar to you.. Sunshine of Your Love..

There's a surge of feminine power within you as you approach him in your flowered sundress. Joel's double take is priceless. He doesn't ask what you're doing there. To be quite honest he doesn't care about anything except getting that dress off you.

It's like a scene from a movie the way he scoops you in his arms, whispering things like "shouldn't be out this late by yourself" and lays you down on a pallet of bricks covered in a plastic sheet. He removes his white shirt, scented of his sweat and natural odor, and lays it under you for cushioning before getting to his knees and spreading your thighs apart.

"Been thinkin' about this pretty lil' pussy all day," he grumbles. You take his hard hat off and put it on yourself, lifting yourself on your elbows so you can watch him.

He tears the thin fabric of your panties, watching your puffy pussy lips appear, slick with want. Your scent reaches him and he can't hold back, diving in to taste you.

"Joel!" you gasp, your hips jolting as his mouth makes contact with your drenched cunt, ever sensitive to his touch. You let yourself get lost in the sweet sensations, sighing, calling out his name.

"God, you taste so good, babygirl," he moans against you, his thumbs spreading you open as his tongue delves into your heat, flicks over your clit. "Sweet like candy.."

Over and over his tongue laps at you, devouring you, his hands pulling down the front of your dress and cupping the sweet mounds of your breasts. He makes coming so easy, as if your body was made for the kind of attention he lavishes upon it.

You come quickly and he lifts you up, clasping your thighs around him, your sticky wetness rubbing against his belly, his own jeans unbuttoned, and moves you to a more discreet place, where you're hidden by the wall sheathing. He hastily removes himself from his boxers and aligns himself to your slit, carefully placing you over him, watching the way your eyes flutter closed as he slides into you.

He fucks you standing, legs hooked over his arms as you kiss him, swallowing up each other's moans and sighs. The summer night humidity and the laboring of your bodies soon have you both sweaty, slippery against one another. He drives into you relentlessly, slowing down only when he worries he'll come too fast, wanting your pleasure before his.

Impaling yourself on him, not a single coherent thought crosses your brain except pursuing your release, the stickiness of your combined sweat, the way his balls smack against your ass, how drenched you are for him, feeling like you can barely withstand to take all of him as he takes control, pressing you down on his dick like it's the last fuck you'll ever have.

You come undone as his tip just brushes your cervix, little bit of pain in the pleasure he's wrenching from you, feeling him spill inside, so much of it that you're already leaking before he withdraws, laying you down on a makeshift blanket of your clothes and his.

"I never wanna stop explorin' you," Joel says, lips brushing your neck, traveling down the slope of your shoulder as you relax in his arms. "I could spend the rest of my life explorin' you and I would still have so much to discover about you, baby."

You've never really been comfortable in your own skin, but watching him adore you gives you a different perspective. "Which parts do you like best?" you ask him.

"Your curves, your face, your eyes. I'm not sure if I can put into words how beautiful you actually are.."

You run your hands along his smooth, large muscles, giving them a gentle squeeze. "There's nothing on you I don't like either."

"So what do you like the most?" he asks with a lustful grin, enjoying your touch.

You grin back. "These of course." your fingertips graze his biceps. "And these." you kiss his lips. "But if I'm being very greedy, I think I like this the most." You reach down and gently stroke his already-hard length.

"I like you bein' greedy," he mutters, eyes closed as he savors your touch.

You feel him come alive in your hand and you feel powerful.

He slides into you, still wet, still sensitive from before, and he takes his time. Slow, but far from delicate. His beard scratches roughly at your skin as he gently grazes his teeth on your tender throat, moving deeply, intoxicated by the scent and taste of you.

When you come it's sweet, lingering, like the prolonged vibration of a note softly played upon a violin.

Joel comes softly and you revel in the warmth of his release, feel him fill you, empty his soul into yours.

"You're good, baby. My god.."

You run your hands across his chest. "I want to be good to you and good for you."

"You're mine and I'm yours," he kisses you again. "I don't ever wanna be without you." Kiss. "And I don't ever wanna stop makin' love to you." Kiss. "And I don't ever want this to end." He gently lays his head on your chest.

"Promise me it's always gonna be this good for us," you whisper.

He smiles warmly. "I promise you, it'll always be this good."

"Morning, hottie," you mumble, smiling. "How'd you sleep?"

Somehow last night you both managed to untangle yourselves long enough to get back to your place, falling asleep in each other's arms immediately.

"Really good, actually," he says, stretching, hair mussed and eyes barely open. "What time is it?" He checks his watch, eyes wide as he realizes he's running late for work. "I gotta go, already late." He scoots out of bed and starts to get dressed. "I'll text you later, all right?" He gives you one last kiss. "Sorry for cuttin' our mornin' short."

"I understand," you murmur, missing the press of his lips and the heat of his body next to yours. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Love you," he says, smiling as he gets his shirt over his head.

"I love you more.."

"Impossible," he gives you a grumpy look.

"Joel Miller, my heart melts with love for you. I crave you with each breath I take, you rock my fucking world, et cetera, et cetera," you say theatrically, giggling as he comes to you again, his broad, strong body covering yours in the bed.

"Save some of those sweet words for tonight, okay?" He kisses the tip of your nose. "Now I gotta get going."

"Miss you already," you chuckle. Wearing only a sheet, you follow him to your front door, give him another quick kiss, watch him get in his truck and leave.

You're so busy watching him drive away and turn at the end of the street, that you see too late your mother's car pulling up to the driveway, followed closely by Sofia.

"Put some clothes on!" your mother scolds before she's even fully out of the car. "Who was that leaving the house?"

You freeze. Nothing had prepared you for your mother's visit. She would have hounded you about it for days beforehand, but now she's here, like a storm cloud on a beautiful day.

"Answer me," Anita says. "Was that Joel Miller leaving here so early?"

All speech has left you. In a flash of anger you glare at your cousin, who shakes her head, hand on her chest. Not me, she's mouthing.

Your mom has already put two and two together. She's no fool, she played this game when she was your age. She had this man when she was your age.

"My daughter's a slut!" she wails.

"Get inside!" Sofia hisses to both of you as she sees the neighbors start to come out and see the hullaballoo.

"Get dressed. Don't shower. I'm taking you to the hospital for a rape kit," Anita says.

"Mom, are you fucking kidding me? I wasn't raped!"

Sofia insists, "Go shower," softly as she tries to appease both of you. "You shouldn't be talking to your mom like this," she whispers. At first you think she's referring to your tone of voice, but then you realize you're naked save a bedsheet, likely still smelling of sex.

"You're taking a pregnancy test," Anita announces.

"I'm not pregnant! What is wrong with you? Why are you here??"

Anita turns to your cousin. "Please leave us to talk."

Sofia stands her ground. "This is my house, auntie. I'm staying."

Your mom grumbles, giving your cousin a hard look. "You let this happen under your roof? What would your parents say if they knew? They'd be disappointed in your lack of morals."

"I don't agree with what they're doing," Sofia says. "But they're both adults, and-"

"You can't keep seeing him," your mother ignores her, turning to you. "You know that, right? It's inappropriate. He's twice your age. He should have more sense."

You never thought you'd have to prepare for this conversation. You never imagined you'd be in this spot, caught red-handed, being sinful with the first ounce of freedom you've been given.

"You don't understand, Mom.." you tell her. "I love him."

The slap registers only after it's happened, your cheek red hot, head on a swivel. Sofia gasps, steps forward to get Anita away from you as you press your own hand to your cheek, feel it already burning.

Joel thinks it's odd when you don't answer his texts, but he pays it little mind. You weren't upset when he left that morning. Then he starts to think you might be hurt. Maybe you fell and hit your head. What if you're unconscious and there's no one there to call 911?

Just when he's about to go stir crazy, his phone dings with a message from you:

don't come to the house tonight. my mom is in town. think someone told her about us. talk later, ok? love you

"Damn!" Joel nearly throws his phone into the street, the need to throttle something or someone is getting stronger. He never expected to have to see Anita again, hasn't seen her in almost twenty years and likes it that way.

You wait for a response to your text, but your phone remains silent. Frowning, you sigh deeply and start on your shower. You think on the many nights Joel has had you in here, pinned to the wall, or on your knees as you went down on him.. there were tender moments too, when he washed and scrubbed your hair for you, assuring you that he loved you the way you are, that there's nothing about you he could ever dislike.

Freshly showered, you change into your typical shirt and jeans, black Converse sneakers on, ready to leave at a moment's notice. But not with her. Not with your mom.

Unfortunately you take too much time preparing for the worst that only too late do you look out the window, realizing Joel's home. You rush out to meet him but your mom has already beat you to it. Sofia holds you back.

"Leave it be," she pleads. "If he loves you he'll come here, and he'll fight for you."

"I hope not literally," you mumble, watching the interaction between your mom and Joel from the safety of the living room window.

It's as if Anita has a radar for Joel. As soon as he's parked in his driveway she marches up. "How dare you? How dare you?" she screams.

He takes a deep breath in and out, taking a moment to calm himself before exiting the vehicle. "How've you been, Anita?" he asks calmly in an attempt to deescalate the situation.

She takes a good look at him as he gets out of the car. Joel Miller all grown up. "I've been better. You haven't changed in twenty years."

"Neither have you, still cornerin' me the minute I'm leavin' my truck. What brings you by?" His words are friendly, his tone is not.

"You screwing my innocent daughter is what 'brings me by'!"

"Jesus, Anita, you really don't mince words do ya? I'm not 'screwing' her."

"That's not what I heard." She puts her hands on her hips, her stance hostile.

"Well what did you hear? And who'd you hear it from? Hmm?"

"I don't need to tell you that. But you are to stay away from my daughter, do you hear me?"

Joel sighs. "I understand you're upset with me for.. for bein' with her. But you're not gonna keep her away from me. I know that she's young, but she's old enough to-"

"No, no, no," Anita shakes her head. "Don't you dare use that excuse. My daughter may be of legal age, but she's too young to know the kind of mess you've got her in."

"She's older than you were when you started messin' around."

"You son of a bitch! Don't you ever-"

"Can we talk somewhere other than the street? Or do you just like makin' a scene and lettin' the whole neighborhood know my business?" He starts to march towards your cousin's house.

"You were best friends with her father," Anita says, following behind. "Don't you think maybe she's confused? Maybe she's looking to you to be her father figure, not her lover?"

"She's with me because she loves me!" he shouts. "And I love her. What the hell do you plan on doin' about that?"

"She doesn't know what love is!" she scrambles to catch up with him on the porch. "Then you come along and you groom her to be this woman you want her to be. But she's too young to understand! You ought to know better!"

"Groom her? I would NEVER do that to her!" His fists are clenched at his sides, blood boiling at how she could defile the love you share.

"Imagine it was your daughter Sarah," Anita says softly. "Imagine she's eighteen, away from home for the first time, and a man twice her age does everything you've been doing with mine. What would you do?"

Joel closes his eyes, knowing he's caught between a rock and a hard place. One the one hand, he sees you as more than some eighteen-year-old. On the other hand, he'd knock the teeth out of any man who dared to try something on Sarah, at any age. "Damn you, Anita. You have no idea. If Sarah was in that situation, I'd make sure whoever that person was.. that they wouldn't see the light of day again."

She looks satisfied. "Then you understand. And the next time you think of coming near my daughter, I want you to think about that instead."

You jump when you see him come through the front door. Without an ounce of shame you hurry to him, enveloping him in a hug. "I don't know what happened," you murmur as you embrace each other tightly. "God, this is such a mess.."

"What happened to your cheek?" He looks at you with concern and turns to Anita. "Did you fuckin' hit her??"

"She doesn't know the worst of it, does she?" Anita asks, ignoring him. "I'm willing to stake everything on it, that you never told her."

You glance from her to Joel. "Told me what?"

His hesitation makes your heart thud, a shiver of unease tingles your spine. Sofia excuses herself to the patio.

Anita looks pleased with herself when she says, "Honey, he's your daddy."

You pull away from him, your natural reaction to uncertainty, your brain going at warp speed to try to process everything from the past couple of hours. "What?" you ask quietly in disbelief.

"God damn it, Anita! Don't go tellin' her shit like that!" Joel roars, and for a moment you worry that he'll hurt your mom, but all that takes a backseat when you take in what she just said.

Anita cuts in, giving you the story of her history with Joel, their brief relationship before she fell for the man you know as your father. How she struggled to maintain the lie, how hard it was to have a baby while still in high school.. all this you've heard before minus the part about Joel. She goes on, in excruciating detail, as Joel leaves. You barely register his absence, your head unable to wrap itself around the new facts.

Joel returns with a manila envelope. "Fuck you, I'm not her father. I never was." He shows a paternity test, old and crinkled around the edges, yellowed with time. "Chris had a paternity test done when he was tryin' to get out of bein' married to you," he glares at Anita. "I had one done through the mail as well, just to be sure." He practically shoves the paper in her face. "Had it done right after Sarah was born."

You take the paper yourself, wanting to see with your own eyes, and there it is: a 99.99% probability of Chris being your father. The results for Joel: 0%.

You give him back the paper and take a seat on the sofa. Every movement feels like you're underwater, body heavy against the tide.

Joel sits next to you, his arm around you in a gesture of comfort, without getting too close. "I wouldn't have done any of that if I'd been your dad, babygirl.. you know that." He kisses the top of your head. "I'd have taken you away from them, and Sarah could have a sister."

Feeling sick, you shake your head and remove his arm from you.

"I know," he says resignedly.

"Was what she told me true?" you whisper. "Did you really love her back then? And slept with her? Even when she was pregnant with me?" Your voice pleads for him to lie. It's the one time you'll accept a fabrication instead of the truth.

Joel looks worn down, older than his years. He can't even look you in the eyes, he just nods.

It feels like an eternity passes. "Was this what you wanted?" you ask your mother. "I could have gone my whole life without knowing any of this! And you told me this for what? For what?"

It's sickening the way your mom looks smug about stirring the pot. She's always like this. She's the can't leave well enough alone type.

Anita simply responds, "I'm not going to punish you for being naive. But I am bringing you back with me to Houston tonight. You can finish college there. You're never to be around Joel again."

Joel rises from his seat, looking ready for a fight again. "You can't do that, you can't just take her away from me like that!"

"Jesus, Joel. If Chris was here he'd beat the living hell out of you. Be glad I'm here and not him."

You stand up as well. "Fuck you both." With long strides you reach your room, packing a few things. When you return they're both quiet, looking to you for the next move, both have expectation written on their faces.

Anita seems deep in thought, older than her 35 years. "You're coming with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you. But I'm not staying here either."

Joel looks like he's about to break down and cry, and you realize this is the first time you've seen him truly vulnerable. Your own heart is too bruised and sore to worry about his.

"I just need to think about some things," you say in a small voice.

Anita goes to her car, speaking with Sofia, likely admonishing her for letting the love affair happen in the first place.

Joel stops you on the porch. "Are you sure this is somethin' you wanna do?"

You can't look up at him. If you do you'll cry, and if you cry you'll just let him pull you into his arms again.

"I need to figure some things out."

"I love you," he says softly. His voice cracks a little.

You swallow the tears that threaten to come, focusing on a small ladybug crawling on the floorboards of the white wooden porch. "When you were with me did you ever think about her? Did you ever think I'd be a good substitute for a woman who didn't want you anymore?"

"Is that what you think I was doin'?"

You shrug.

"Babygirl, you look so much like your mom that it hurts. So sometimes, yeah, I do see her in you. But you're a better person than she is.. you're smart, you're kind, you're clever.. I can't see myself wantin' anyone else."

It's not really the answer you hoped for, but then again this is not the kind of day you hoped for either.

"That's not enough for me to stay.." you whisper. Your mother ruined it, just like she ruined everything else, just like she ran your father off.

"I think we were looking for other people in each other," you tell him. "You were looking for my mom and I was looking for my dad."

"No, no, sweetheart, it ain't like that," Joel puts his hand on your shoulder, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes. Your heart beats madly seeing the pain and anguish there. "What I felt for your mother was nothin' compared to what I feel for you. Please, baby.. stay." He clutches your hands in his.

It was just a summer thing, you think to yourself as you drive down the street, following your mom, away from the home you've known for just a couple of months, before you force yourself to not think about anything else but the drive, the long stretch of Interstate 10 that takes you to Houston.

Sarah's there at the end of the block, stopped on her bike as she watches you leave. You realize you hadn't said bye to her, but when you catch her eye she doesn't smile back, averting her eyes. She gives a small wave, uncomfortable even with the friendly gesture, and your stomach is in knots as you realize it had to have been her..

The one who slammed the door on you and Joel at the party. The one who reached out to your mom, describing what she walked in on. Why else would she take your leaving so well?

You watch her start riding towards her house, wind blowing through her locks. You watch her through your rearview mirror until she's a speck on the horizon, and then completely out of sight.

(I'm sorry. I love y'all. I'm sorry.)

<- prev chapter

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dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 1 month ago

Text

Hold it.

Pairing: Joel Miller x AFAB!reader

Words count: 1384

Rating: +18, absolutely NSFW and please mind the tags

Warnings/tags: pi$$ kink, masturbation (f receiving), reader has breasts and vagina, no other description of her is given, bad at feelings Joel and kinda soft!dom if you squint, kissing, dirty talk, smut without plot, this is just something entirely written with my cunt so you’re warned lol, it came out totally unplanned, I’m ovulating and I’m feral🔥 and it’s October so I thought it was the right time of the year to experiment a little bit heheheh it’s not heavy but it’s something *cough* I could do it again if it works.

Please just skip it if this is not your kind of thing.

No beta reader, barely edited, English is not my first language so please, be patient with me. I hope it makes sense and that you’ll enjoy, my dirty little friends with similar kinks as mine 😏

Thank you very much to anyone who read this!

You and Joel are lying on the bed kissing. You don't know how much time has passed, it could be an hour or five minutes, when you're with him the clock doesn't exist and besides, you end up feeling like you can't get enough of him. You've been seeing each other casually for a while, no one brings up the question of "what are we" not even you, too scared of losing him.

You just take what he gives, eager and willing to have him rolling in your bed with you.

Tasting his mouth, intertwining your tongue with his, salivas mixing, teeth touching, lips biting and the best sex you've ever had, you don't care about anything else.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell him breathlessly. You start to get up, but he pulls you by the arm. “No, stay.”

“Mmm I have to go to the bathroom.”

“No, you don’t, come back here,” and he wraps his arms around you completely, bringing you back to his chest.

“Joel, I have to pee,” you whine.

“Hold it,” he tells you in a firm voice.

“I can’t! We've been kissing for hours, I need to do it and I’ll be there again in 30 seconds, let me go” you plead, looking at him with the best angelic look you can pull off.

“It could be fun…” he suggests and your jaw instantly drops “What? Wet myself?”

“Uhm…let’s take it one step at a time, miss”

You're surprised that he's engaged you in such an intimate conversation, he usually says a few words, grunts, kisses you like crazy, fucks you like an animal and is out the door before you can ask how his day was.

“Woah, so we’re starting sharing fantasies here?” you smirk “I like that”

He nods “why not” with a slight smile “let's spice it up a bit”

You bury your face in his chest, giggling, “Mmm ok, mister kinky, tell me what you have in mind.”

“Just hold it” he gently orders.

“I’ll try”

“Good girl. So now…are you wet?”

“Yes,” you coo, “Of course.”

You see a spark in his gaze, “Does your clit know how wet you are?”

You laugh, “I think so.”

“I don’t think she knows enough, let me feel her”

He lowers a hand to your panties and you’re grateful that you have nothing on but those and your bra, you couldn't move further to take off more clothes without feeling the urge to pee.

You stay still in his arms as he maneuvers his way past the hem of your panties.

He looks at you ferally, while his fingers get wet “mmm baby, we can do better. Just hold it for me and let me work”

He lies down on the bed, bare chest, in his boxers, and pulls you on top of him “come here”

“Won't I weigh on you?” you ask confused as to what he wants to do.

You've lost both contact with his eyes and fingers and he's holding you on top of him by your hips as if you weigh nothing.

“Don’t be ridiculous” he chuckles “just trust me, I’m sure you’ll like it”

Your bladder is full, it’s starting to bother you, but you can’t say no to him.

However, the situation now intrigues you, you want to try whatever he has in mind.

So you stay there, like a puppet leaning against his body and wait, hungry for him.

He’s big enough to make you feel tiny and it’s such a turn on.

His fingers return inside your panties and you immediately moan at the contact.

They are thick, a little calloused, deliciously scratchy on your clit.

“Here we go, baby, you’re good?” he asks you while caressing you with circular movements and then gathering your cream up to your bundle of nerves.

“Yes” you moan.

He continues this until he feels your clit hardening, then he places two fingers in a V shape resting on your outer lips, just jerking off your clit like that.

“Fuck, it feels so good” you breathe

“Yeah, I know, you’re all nice and drippy now. You’re still holding your pee like a perfect girl for me right?”

You whine, you can’t do anything else.

His lips roam your neck, licking and kissing everything he can.

His other hand kneads your breast, taking a nipple between his fingers and gently tugging. This new stimulation is almost too much to bear.

He dips his fingers between your folds, on either side of your clit, and moves them up and down, wetting them completely with your juices.

He suddenly takes them away and you cry at the loss.

He brings them to your mouth and orders “taste yourself” and you obediently let his fingers enter your mouth up to the knuckles, licking them greedily. “You like it, huh? You taste good, baby, I know”

“Did you leave some for me?” he asks before putting them in his mouth and grunts “just enough” he hum “Now let’s get back to business, I’m not done yet with your pretty cunt”

He starts rubbing your clit in circles again, faster than before, almost frantically and you feel delirious at this point, you’re not sure how much longer you can take his teasing “Fuck- I can’t”

“Yes, you can, baby, keep holding it”

The hand that was on your breasts moves down to your belly, he press there and release “Do you feel it?” A tingling sensation radiates to your pussy, as he repeats again and again, presses and releases.

A gentle, steady strain on your bladder, as he continues to stimulate your clit.

“Answer me, hun, can you feel it?”

You whimper a chocked yes.

“Is it good?” he growls

“FUCK - yes. It’s so good - so good, Joel, please don’t stop”

He presses down a little more and releases, rubbing so hard on your bud you feel like you're losing your mind.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, just sink in it”

You’re overwhelmed, you hadn’t the slightest idea that it would be so good to let him masturbate you while you hold your pee.

You can't explain exactly in words but the feeling of your bladder full, on the verge of letting go as he touches you like that makes you feel like you've never taken full care of your clit before.

You close your eyes, letting yourself go with that feeling as he urges you with his hoarse voice “yes, my perfect little slut, take some more” and presses even harder and releases, now in small repeated jumps on the bottom of your belly.

It doesn't hurt, it's just too much.

You come, writhing above him, a devastating orgasm taking over every cell of your body.

“Let it go now” and you whine “no, I can’t!”

“Give me something baby, let me feel it. Pee”

“I can’t! I can’t pee on you!” your voice breaks through your peak.

And then he whispers “please”

He never begged for anything before.

He just takes, gropes, licks and bites whatever he wants and you’re fine with that.

But now it’s different. He whimpers another “please” and you just do what he asks.

You pee.

All over him.

The warm liquid slips out of you while he's still rubbing you, wetting your thighs, sliding down his legs, soaking the sheets.

He growls loudly in your ear, breathing heavy, his hard cock pressing into your ass through his boxers and your panties.

You feel empty, physically and mentally, only surrounded by an electrifying warmth.

He pulls you off of him and hugs you, both of you soaked from the waist down.

He kisses your forehead and then your lips “thanks, babe. Did you like it?”

“I- yes.” you pause for a moment, trying to process your thoughts “it was weird. Pleasantly weird though”

“We don't have to do it again if you don’t want to, though.” he murmurs moving his lips to your jaw leaving a trail of kisses there.

It's like a new complicity has been created between you, now that you share this dirty little secret.

The edges of his bad temper seem to have been smoothed out, his voice is kind, almost tender.

You look up, smile mischievously at him and say, “Who says I don’t want more?”

Part 2

#joel miller #the last of us #piss kink #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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almostempty · 2 months ago

Text

Heheheheh THANK YOU!! Have one Creed meme as a token of my appreciation:

Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that.

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy?

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic?

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 1.5 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift.

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him.

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that.

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories.

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach.

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there.

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked.

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right?

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible.

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway.

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course!

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life.

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench.

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is.

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep.

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right?

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything.

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench.

Still, no Joel, however.

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls.

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.

The next moment is a blur.

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone.

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow.

“What are you doing here?” he barks.

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run.

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist.

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you.

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face.

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch.

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon?

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead.

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal.

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic.

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?”

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door.

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it.

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop.

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face.

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk.

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans.

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues.

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately.

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock.

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts.

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now.

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core.

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock.

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess. You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one.

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin.

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor.

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you.

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back.

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer.

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin.

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours.

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief.

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought.

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point.

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?”

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare.

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.”

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked.

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.”

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle.

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat.

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him.

“You need more?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum.

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon.

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene.

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision.

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.”

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you.

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway.

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face.

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move.

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door.

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose.

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize.

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display.

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen:

Joel

Attachment 1 image

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

#divorced dilf rock joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #hotdilfsummerchallenge #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller au #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal character universe #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal fanfic

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sp00kymulderr · 5 months ago

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stretch

Dieter Bravo x gn!reader x yoga instructor!Joel Miller

Warnings/Tags: M for mentions of sex. AU in which Joel is very flexible. Dieter is a menace. Daydreaming about a threesome. Reader is able bodied/takes part in a yoga class. No use of pronouns for reader but they are called babe & baby.

Words: 890 words

Summary: Dieter introduces you to his yoga instructor.

A/N: for my love @ravensmadreads. idk where this came from. You mentioned something about trainer!joel and being told to bend over and my mind went to yoga so??? Consider this a little offshoot of gym crush Joel. An au of the au.

Dieter had been insistent on your coming to his yoga class today.

He was practically dragging you along through the luxury gym floor to the studio - an intimate set up with space for just the two of you and the instructor. Perks of being an actor, Dieter didn't have to work out with strangers.

He'd never been that into yoga before he'd gone off to film Cliff Beasts 6. But he'd come back particularly enthusiastic about it. Something about a mirror. Someone called Kate. You weren't sure you particularly needed to know the rest and frankly, the sex had been even better since he'd gotten more flexible and active so who were you to say anything.

He's happy, giving you an excited nudge as you both sit down on your fancy mats, sitting cross legged as you wait for the instructor to show up.

"You're gonna love this, babe" He mutters, giving you the kind of smile that is all mischief.

"Dee, I love your enthusiasm but I really don't think-"

You stop, words scrambling just like your brain cells as another man joins you two in the room. He pads quietly over to the mat in front of you both and greets the two of you. Where Dieter's energy is very 'bouncing off the walls', this man seems calm and gentle, in a way.

It doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous too. Beautiful brown eyes that seem to tell a thousand stories at once, greying brown hair, scruffy grey-speckled facial hair that accentuates his handsome features. He's…gorgeous isn't even really the right word. Breathtaking feels more like it.

Well, you understand why Dieter has been particularly keen about this class.

He introduces himself as Joel before sitting down on his mat facing the two of you and mirroring your crossed-leg stance.

Your mouth feels dry. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're affected by the man. He's started talking but you're zoned out, hopefully subtly scanning eyes over him; the way his t-shirt is just a little too tight around the biceps, the tiny sliver of skin when it rides up as he raises his arms.

Dieter, thoroughly amused, nudges you back to reality. For a moment you stare from him back to Joel and then, "Oh right" you awkwardly say, raising your arms up with a deep breath.

If you thought Dieter was flexible now, he was nothing compared to Joel. He made every flow look easy, and showed his strength with a quiet grace that you were finding very difficult to not continue to be struck dumb by. Your mind was definitely going to places it shouldn't…specifically to Joel in bed with you and Dieter…how that might go. Hearing him tell you to bend for a different reason might drive you completely overboard.

As the class continues you're wondering what positions he could put you in, lost in thought right as his hands gently meet your hips to help you into a pose you might not be struggling with if your mind wasn't in the gutter. The touch of his hand makes your breath hitch. And not subtly.

"You okay?" Joel asks, his voice low and quiet, fingers giving you a little reassuring tap on the hip. You nod back, waiting for the floor to open up and take you away. Dieter gives you a knowing look and you glare back at him, now fully aware why he'd so badly wanted you to join the class.

It's either a blessing or a curse that you have the same taste in men.

It's a relief when the class ends, when the 45 minutes are up and you can hopefully get out of the small studio and clear your head of dirty thoughts about a man just doing his job.

You look over to Joel as he's clearing away mats, give him a little smile and say your thanks and pray that you aren't somehow giving away the things you'd been thinking about him for the whole time. To your surprise he gives you a smile and a wink as you're on your way out.

"Give me a couple minutes, baby" Dieter says mysteriously. Maybe you should be worried about that particular glint in his eyes as he approaches Joel when you exit the studio.

You're checking your phone when Dieter comes back out, taking your hand and walking with you back to the car.

"So?" He asks, looking at your like an expectant puppy.

"Hm?"

"You liked it? What'd you think of Joel?" He says, his tone telling you he's much more interested in knowing your thoughts on the other man.

"He's very…" You start, not sure quite how to describe the things you felt about him in that short amount of time "bendy?"

"Yeah he is" Dieter sighs happily, pulling you towards him out by the car and turning you around to face him. His arms nake round your middle, holding you close. "You liked him, right?"

You sigh, returning his embrace. He always looked for a reason to be as close to you as possible. You would never complain about that.

"Yeah, I like him"

His smile lights up the entire parking lot. You knew he was up to something.

"Good" He kisses the tip of your nose before pulling back.

"Cause he's coming over tonight to give us a special session"

#Dieter Bravo x reader x Joel Miller #Dieter Bravo x reader #Joel Miller x reader #joel miller x dieter bravo #pedro pascal character fiction

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ghostofaboy · 5 months ago

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I Can Bring You In Hot

Summary: Maxwell is Din's latest bounty but in an attempt to ensure his freedom he's willing to offer the Mandalorian anything.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Maxwell Lord Rating: Explicit | Word count: 2616

Warnings: Oral sex, face fucking, facial, Dom/sub elements, Din's helmet stays on, light bondage

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This was a request from @boliv-jenta as part of my 200 Follower Celebration. Divider by @saradika-graphics

"Please wait! I'll do anything you want, just let me go."

Din frowned under his helmet at the cowering man before him and sighed. Jobs had been slim on the ground for a while, and this one was barely going to cover the cost of his fuel. Usually he preferred to stick to the Outer Rim, but some rash young group of bounty hunters had snatched up all the local jobs by the time he'd gotten back to Nevarro last week. So it had been this, or a trip to Balmorra and Din really didn't want to be that close to the Core.

So here he was on Ord Mantell in the Mid Rim chasing some 'businessman' who ran out of his investors. Maxwell Lord had apparently been the toast of Coruscant just after the Empire fell, but three years on it didn't look like things were working out for him.

"Please." Maxwell repeated. "I just need another week or so, and I'll be able to pay them. Then the bounty will be called off. Please. I'll do whatever you want."

Din snorted. They all said that. This man probably could never imagine how many times Din had heard that over his career as a bounty hunter.

"I can bring you in warm, or I can-"

"Please!" Maxwell cut him off, getting shakily to his feet from the spot he'd dropped to his knees to the moment Din appeared in his office. "I can't pay, I need the money to settle this debt, but there are other things I could do."

"Such as?"

"I can compensate you for your trip here." Maxwell gestured over to his terminal. "Refuel your ship, for example. I know the bounty on me isn't that high. To be honest, that's why I was so surprised someone took it. My investors, well, I think they put it out to scare me into getting their money."

Every instinct was telling Din to just grab this guy and take his payment. He would get his credits, be able to refuel... and then what? Damn it! Maxwell was right. The bounty was half what he'd usually consider taking. Most of his pay would go on fuel, with barely anything left over for food or to hand to the Covert.

"I'm listening." The words were out of his mouth before the rest of Din's brain could engage.

"Good!" Maxwell smiled brightly at him. "Well, yes, I can refuel your ship and... and... if you let me go..." Maxwell trailed off, diverting his eyes from Din as he thought.

"You're going to have to do better than just fuel." Din shook his head. "Something much better."

Maxwell swallowed hard, nodding as his eyes rested on Din. For a few moments, he just stared, and the Mandalorian could feel the other man analyzing him. Those dark chocolate eyes were filled with worry, but there was an intelligence behind them that Din rarely got to see with his usual quarry. Finally, Maxwell straightened himself, brushing a few errant hairs from his forehead before looking Din directly in the visor.

"If you let me go, I promise to not only refuel your ship, but I will make any dream you have come true."

"Make my dr-" Din shook his head, almost laughing. "What?"

"You must have wishes, dreams, desires." Maxwell gestured to Din. "I've heard Mandalorian's have high libidos. Surely you have needs that require fulfilling."

This was a new one. Usually when trying to get away from him his bounties would offer Din credits but this definitely new.

"And what if my dreams are not to your taste?" Din cocked his head. He was intrigued now. If Maxwell was truly offering sex in return for freedom, Din wanted to see just how far the other man was willing to take it.

But to his surprise Maxwell laughed, not a dismissive one aimed at Din, but a soft surprised chuckle.

"I assure you my tastes are quite broad, Mandalorian. If you promise to let me go tomorrow morning, you can do whatever you want to me tonight."

He should have said no and placed the businessman in carbonite. He should have done his job, gotten his measly credits and taken the reputation merits with the Guild. But instead, Din let out a long sigh.

"Deal."

The room Maxwell led him into was much more modestly decorated than Din would have expected. When studying him to learn where he might be, Maxwell had given Din the impression of a brash extrovert. The other man wore well tailored suits with bejeweled cuff links and large gold rings that screamed for attention.

His ads on the holonet were all smooth talking pitches aimed at making the viewer feel as though he were talking directly to them, all the while appealing to as broad an audience as possible. Some called him a con-man, but Din was sure Maxwell would have preferred holo-personality. The type of person who thrives in that environment of influencing others. But this room had Din second guessing his assessment.

While it was a large suite, with huge bed and plush furniture, it was by no means extravagant. Din had seen how some bounties spent their credits and the type of gilded facade that passed for wealth. This was understated, classy even.

"Welcome." Maxwell spread his arms after throwing his suit jacket over the back of a chair. "I'd say relax and make yourself at home, although I doubt you'll be taking any of your armor off."

"No." Din turned back to face Maxwell, who simply nodded with apparent understanding.

"In that case," he swallowed hard, "what would you like me to do?"

In the short walk here from the office, Din had found Maxwell in his mind had been running through every fantasy he'd ever had. Some were immediately off the table. Either involving Din removing more clothes than he was comfortable with or requiring a level of intimacy that was part and parcel of the dream.

Finally, he'd settled on something he'd always wanted to try but had never had the guts to ask for. With partners he knew Din wasn't sure how to bring up the subject, and when paying for sex he preferred to keep things simple. But with Maxwell, well, Din had the opportunity to really push things both for himself and the charismatic businessman.

"Take your clothes off." Din's command was brief and to the point as he set his rifle down on a table close to the door. Never taking his eyes off Maxwell, Din's cock twitched to life as the other man didn't hesitate and began efficiently removing his clothing.

With each layer more sun-kissed skin was revealed and Din started to marvel at the differences between them. By necessity Din tried to keep himself in good shape, not bulging with muscles like some of his brothers back at the Covert but toned at least, but Maxwell was beautifully soft.

Thick, full thighs, a small round belly and a pair of tantalizingly grabbable tits were all bared for Din. Finally, as Maxwell pulled down his underwear, Din’s eyes locked onto the other man’s erection jutting out from under the slight swell of his stomach. He was much smaller than Din, but thick, with a heavy set of balls that swung as he kicked his underwear away to the side.

Din’s legs moved of their own accord and he began circling Maxwell, who to his credit stood proudly nude and erect for Din to appraise. As he reached Maxwell’s back, Din reached out and firmly pushed the other man’s shoulder down. Maxwell understood immediately and bend forward, planting his feet further apart to steady himself as he gave Din a better view of his ass.

Gently pulling Maxwell’s cheeks apart, Din could see a flushed pink ring of muscle and as ran a finger to teased at the flesh, Din smiled as Maxwell’s hole briefly gaped. He could hear a short intake of breath as Maxwell showed off for him, and Din instinctually knew the Maxwell must have a dildo he used on a regular basis. Slapping Maxwell’s ass, Din glanced back towards the bed. Perhaps he’d make Maxwell ride it for Din later, make the businessman put on a show for him with his favorite toy.

“Hands behind your back.” Din unclipped his cuffs from his belt and waited for Maxwell to obey.

After a slight hesitation, Maxwell shifted, positioning his hands behind his back, letting out a quiet whine as Din secured them with the cuffs. Then, with another firm hand on his shoulder Din helped lower Maxwell onto his knees.

Walking back over to the table where he’d left his rifle, Din quickly and efficiently removed his bandolier, explosive charges and any weapons he had on him. The last thing he needed during this was an accident and he was confident Maxwell wasn’t going to try anything stupid. After removing his vambraces and gloves Din returned to Maxwell, who had remained on his knees, his short, fat cock dripping onto the tiles between his knees.

Striding over, Din planted himself in front of the submissive Maxwell watching as the other man raised his head to look up at him. It was time. Now or never for Din to play out this fantasy or call it off and carry Maxwell back to the Crest as he was. Last chance to turn back.

Tugging open the fly of his jumpsuit, Din took in a slow steady breath as he pulled out his achingly hard cock. From his seat on the floor, Maxwell beamed up him, licking his lips as he waited for his instructions.

“You bite, you die.” Din growled, grabbing a fist full of Maxwell’s hair.

“I would never.” Maxwell sounded genuinely offended before leaning forward to gently suckle on the fat tip of Din’s cock.

He’d always wanted to try this and as Din watched Maxwell expertly work his length into his mouth he had to admit it felt better than he’d ever imagined. There was a certain amount of trust needed for oral sex and it pained Din that he’d never been in the position before to either give or receive. But here he was watching his bounty swirl his tongue around the head of his dick, each lap and flick of the other man’s tongue sending spikes of desire through him.

Din let out a long moan as Maxwell began tracing the vein along the underside of his shaft before returning to the head, teasing at his slit for entrance. Looking up at Din through long dark eyelashes, Maxwell parted his lips and began to work Din’s full length into his mouth, saliva running out of the corners as he opened wide enough for Din’s girth. As each inch disappeared into Maxwell’s hot wet mouth, Din’s skin prickled with arousal as he fought the urge to close his eyes. As much as he wanted to give into the bliss, he wanted to watch, to see Maxwell’s beautifully flushed face take his cock, to savor this moment.

Without the use of his hands, Din could tell Maxwell was struggling slightly. Obvious used to using mouth and hands in tandem, Din had stopped him from employing his usual techniques, but he was slowly adapting. After working along the shaft a few times, Din could feel as Maxwell flattened his tongue and finally took Din to the back of his mouth. As Maxwell’s nose nestled in Din’s unruly bush, the Mandalorian marvelled as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Maxwell’s throat.

The burning wetness closing around him, enveloping his cock was almost overwhelming and Din’s head swam with heavy fog. Holding himself there for a few seconds, Maxwell spluttered slightly and withdrew, leaving Din slick with drool as he returned to gently suck and teasing on the fat cockhead.

“Can you take more?” Din growled, tightening his grip on Maxwell’s hair and watching as the other man’s eyes flickered up to him.

“You want to fuck my face?”

“Yes.”

“I can take it.”

That was all Din needed as he pushed his length back into Maxwell’s throat, firmly and steadily, until the other man’s lips were stretched taut around the base. Slowly at first, Din began to move his hips, testing Maxwell’s limits as he used the other man’s mouth. Looking up at him, Maxwell was adjusting his breathing, sending puffs of hot air against Din’s exposed skin as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

“You’ve done this before.” Din teased, bringing his other hand up to grip Maxwell’s head fully. Maxwell responded with a wink and hummed around Din’s cock, making Din curse and buck his hips.

Shifting his feet further apart to steady himself, Din took a deep breath as he began to quicken his pace. The fire inside him was a roaring inferno now, and Din was not accustomed to ignoring it. Usually quickly seeing to himself in his bunk, Din was used to rapid bursts of pleasure, sprints not marathons, and this entire encounter with Maxwell was quickly undoing him.

Each thrust into Maxwell’s waiting throat sent powerful thrums of pleasure coursing through him. Each time he hit the back of Maxwell’s throat, Din blinked away the dizzying urge to cum. His cock throbbed inside Maxwell, who gazed up at Din with lust blown eyes, urging him on, begging for more.

Din’s balls swung against Maxwell’s chin as the pace increased. Frantic, save for the briefest of pauses to allow the businessman to catch his breath, before pondering his mouth once more. Maxwell’s eyes watered, yet still he stared up at Din’s visor, as each blink sent tears cascading down his cheeks.

The sound of the outside world melted away. There was nothing else now except the wet gagging sounds of Maxwell choking on Din’s cock as the Mandalorian hungrily fucked his face. Then with a vibrating whine, Din watch Maxwell pinch his eyes shut and felt the other man shudder. Peering down past his own length, Din could see Maxwell’s own untouched cock twitch as it shot bursts of cum onto the floor.

Din felt the tension inside him snap. Pulling roughly out of Maxwell’s mouth, leaving a long trail of connecting saliva, Din was just in time to stop himself from cumming down Maxwell’s throat. Instead, Din grunted and moaned as he began to paint the other man’s face with his seed. Rope after rope covered Maxwell’s beautifully disheveled features as Din spilled himself in hot spurts that landed and ran together.

Stepped back on trembling legs, Din panted as he took in the scene before him, the heady rush of his climax ebbing away and allowing him to fully appreciate his actions. A small puddle of cum sat between Maxwell’s legs, as his small dick soften and retreated, while Maxwell himself sat back to rest on his kneels panting heavily. His face was covered in cum and drool, dripping from onto his chest as the businessman gasped for air. Slowly, Maxwell reopened his eyes, searching the space in front of him until he found Din’s visor.

“Face fucking and a facial.” Maxwell’s chest heaved as he blinked at Din. “Hard, fast and filthy. Was it everything you wanted?”

“I’m not through with you yet.” Din ran a finger through the sticky release covering Maxwell’s face before offering it to him to suck. As Maxwell suckled on the digit, swaying slightly with a playful smile on his face. “You look so perfect on your knees, ready for me to use.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Maxwell grinned. “What’s next?”

#Din Djarin #Maxwell Lord #Max Lord #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fiction #ghost of a boy requests #requested fic #Din Djarin x Maxwell Lord #Maxwell Lord x Din Djarin

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