#aka the thot fic

[almostempty]

Something in your mouth

(joel miller x f!reader)

The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel

WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date

Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine

Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth

major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect

thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo

it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 

*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 

*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 

okay, it's starting now:

You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 

When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…

Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 

Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 

Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 

You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 

No. No, no, no. 

You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 

The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 

A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 

Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 

“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 

“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 

“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 

“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 

You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 

You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 

You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 

“What did he say?” 

Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 

“Who?” 

Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 

You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  

Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 

“Oh, you meant Joel?” 

You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 

“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?

You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 

Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 

So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 

“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.

“What?” 

“You’ve got that look on your face.” 

You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 

You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 

“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 

You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 

“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 

Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 

“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 

“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 

“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 

“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 

“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”

“A date?” you echo. 

She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 

Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.

The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 

Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 

Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 

Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 

You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 

You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 

Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 

Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 

“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 

“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 

It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 

There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 

You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 

Except for, well, everything. 

You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 

When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 

Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 

Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 

You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 

Joel: More 

You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 

You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 

You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 

Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.

“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 

“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 

Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 

You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 

“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 

“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”

You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 

Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 

“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 

You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 

It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  

“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 

“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”

You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”

“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”

There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.

“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.

“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”

“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”

There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. 

Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 

“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 

“Yep.” 

You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.

……..

It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 

You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”

“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 

“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 

“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”

You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 

There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”

You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”

“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 

You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 

“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.

“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 

His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”

The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.

“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.

Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 

The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.

“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 

It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 

The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 

You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 

There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.

The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 

And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 

At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 

You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 

He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 

It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.

He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 

By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 

You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 

Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 

Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 

You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 

You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 

“Don’t.” 

She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 

You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 

You: You been thinking about me? 

His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 

Joel: Maybe 

Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 

Joel: Have you? 

He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 

You: A little  

You figure you���ll give him the same treatment. 

Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 

Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 

Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 

That has you shaking your head. 

You: Patience is a virtue 

He’s quick to respond again. 

Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 

That makes you genuinely laugh. 

You: Good 

……

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 

You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 

You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 

Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 

It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 

But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 

“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 

“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 

You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 

They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 

Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 

“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 

You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 

The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 

There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 

Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 

You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 

You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 

You're so much cooler

When you never pull it out

Cause you look so much cuter

With something in your mouth

It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 

“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 

…..

The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 

The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 

“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 

You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 

He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  

You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 

“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 

“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“They have food, too.” you counter. 

“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 

He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 

“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 

It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 

….

It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 

Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 

Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 

You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 

His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 

He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 

You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 

“Relax,” you purr. 

Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 

“Do you have cash?” you ask. 

“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 

You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 

“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 

You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.

“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 

You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”

“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 

The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 

I’m loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what’s up under there 

Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 

You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 

You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 

You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 

You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 

Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 

“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”

Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”

“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 

Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 

The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 

“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 

“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”

He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”

Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”

He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 

Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”

“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”

He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”

His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 

“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 

His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”

Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 

“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”

He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 

Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 

But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 

You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 

You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 

“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 

“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 

You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 

It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 

His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 

“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 

The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 

“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 

He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 

“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 

“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 

“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 

“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.

Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 

The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 

“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”

Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”

“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

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[beefrobeefcal]

Colosseum Capers feat. Din Djarin & Dieter Bravo

Summary: Din is a virgin and Dieter teaches him some things.

Pairing: Dieter x Din x f!reader | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 6,787

Content Warnings: couch sex, din is a virgin, dieter teaches din how to make thick in the warm, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in the v, cum touching, jerking off, bruised willy, busted wrist, gary has had it up to here, everyone is consenting gleefully, jerking off to a live show, cum play (ish), talk of cum, weed is smoked, mention of religious trauma, premature ejaculation YEEHAW!

Author's Notes: for my very own november prompt challenge THE GLANDOLORIAN of course being dropped right at the buzzer.

Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalnymph & @bitchesuntitled for their eyes, minds, thots and love - i would have let my utter defiance take over and not done this without your encouragement. Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You stood behind the ticket desk, supposed to be counting the float and getting ready for the evening’s show but instead you were bored out of your mind and sweating in your polyester toga. Once again, the owners decided to not fix the AC to cut costs, and the humidity plus the sweltering heat was giving you a horrible case of swamp ass and a foul mood.

Colosseum Capers (aka ‘Capers’) was a Medieval Times knock off, started in 1979 by two brothers who had a shitty idea fueled by a night out at a shitty bar. They had sold it to a corporate group in the late 80’s who had developed a mall on the plot next door and had changed hands many times over since. It was some real estate investment trust that was letting it run into the ground now. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and got you up close and personal with B and C list celebrities, and free concessions, keeping your monthly grocery bill lower than average. That, and if you batted your lashes at Gary, the manager, you could get your gas paid for every now and then. 

There were a lot of perks in this dump, but the one thing that made Capers almost not worth it was the star - Dieter Bravo. He was a washed up 1990’s soap actor who hadn’t actually done anything of note since he showed up to the Emmys drunk, high, or both in 2003, then allegedly passed out backstage and pissed his pants. You have to say allegedly because at the time, Dieter had enough money to have a team that gave enough of a shit to scrub the media, stopping the release of the details. But now? Now he was ‘Marcus Acacius, Gladiator of Rome’ five to seven nights a week in a shitty dinner show theatre two blocks from the Las Vegas strip. No one gave a shit about him except those who recognized him from his days on The Young & The Restless. 

You couldn’t stand him. Despite how far he had fallen, it still wasn’t enough to knock his ego down; he was arrogant and obnoxious, slept with the majority of the female staff - and a few of the male staff, too. He’d tried to bed you once, his gravelly, sleep deprived, booze fueled voice cawing at you to come to his dressing room one evening. You’d rolled your eyes in disgust, never once being fooled by him, declining him just as rudely as he had offered. In response, from then on in, Dieter pretended you either didn’t exist or antagonized you, giving you orders or interfering if someone was speaking to you to let them know you were a ‘celibate bitch’, landing you with the nickname ‘CeeBee’.

The only good thing about Dieter was the one thing his drunk, out-of-shape ass needed to play gladiator - Din. When Dieter couldn’t take to the stage, Din stepped in. He took no credit and played Dieter playing a Gladiator well enough for only die-hard Dieter fans to notice and those seemed to be dwindling in numbers season by season. 

If Din had asked you to his dressing room (if he had one), nothing could have stopped you from going to it. He was everything Dieter was not. He was quiet, polite, sweet, sober, and while he looked like a younger, less bloated version of Dieter, you found him far more handsome and attractive. The only problem was that Din was never anything but polite in the most standoffish way to you and anyone else who he interacted with - no joke pulled a smile on his face, you had never heard him laugh once, and he was insanely private. Beyond his name and his age - which you had to suss out from the badly stored employment records - you knew nothing about him. 

Din Djarin, 36 years old, male was what you knew to be a fact. Great body, patience of a saint, likes plain soda water, potentially hung, gorgeous brown eyes, soft-looking brown hair were based solely on your observational skills. Everything else about him was a mystery. 

“Ceebee!”

You groaned outwardly and rolled your eyes when you heard Gary’s voice. It was too hot and you felt too gross to want to deal with his bullshit. 

“I know you heard me ‘cause I heard that attitude!”

Sucking in a deep breath, you stood up from leaning on the counter and yelled back. “What, Gary?!”

“Bravo. Get him. Need to know if we gotta call Din for tonight.”

“No, Gary, you do it! It’s too hot for me to deal with his bullshi-”

“CeeBee, goddamnit! Now!”

You could hear the final threads of Gary’s triple bypass fraying in his voice. You knew he hated Dieter more than you did and if he had the power, Dieter would have been fired years ago and Din would be the gladiator full time. And you knew that if you were hot, the overweight, balding 67-year-old Gary was feeling it worse, and despite what an aggravating human he could be, he was also the closest thing to a friend you had in this city. Today was not the day to give him a hard time. 

Huffing, you stepped out from behind the ticket counter and stomped down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door, and pushed through. As soon as you opened the door, the acrid smell of weed from a bong hit you and you grimaced. You didn’t want to go any closer to his dressing room, so you called out, not attempting to hide your irritation.

“Bravo! Gary wants to know if you’re-”

“Ceebee! Baby! Come on in - don’t be shy!”, Dieter interrupted in a lazy, rough but loud voice.

“No. Gary wants to know if you’re g-”

“Fuck Gary and get in here. Not gonna pull anything!”, he barked, then sang out, “‘less you wan’ me to...”

You scowled as you heard the smug grin in his voice. Against your better judgement, you let out a harsh huff and stepped into his open doorway. There he was, the bastard, laid back on a couch not even fit for a second hand store, in his green robe and boxers. His face was pulled into a large, stupid smile and his eyes were red and heavy lidded. 

“Hey pretty lady…”

The way he looked at you and spoke made you want to shave your head with a cheese grater, but you’d promised Gary last week that you’d try and be more cordial with Dieter, so you slapped a tight smile on your face and crossed your arms. 

“Bravo. Ga-”

“CeeBee… honey, you look tense.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come on, baby, take a hoot. Chill out.”

“Gary wants to know if he’s gotta call Din in.”

The lazy smile on his face dropped slightly, and the small bit of his eyes you could see seemed to grow darker. Until that moment, the insecurity Dieter had over Din being better suited for this job had never occurred to you, but you could see it clear as day now.  “Fuckin’ Din…”, he growled as he stood up and moved towards you.

Trying to not let him see how intimidated you were as he stood far closer than you thought necessary as he glowered down at you, you held that tight smile and looked him up in the face.

“Tell Gary to call Din so he can watch me-”, he snarls lowly, poking his finger into your collarbone, “-an’ see how this show is ‘sposed to be done.”

After you’d relayed the message to Gary and watched his face go even redder, you went back to the ticket desk and tried to look busy. Gary was going to be in a mood tonight, having to pay both Dieter and Din to be there, and given how hot it was, he already knew that attendees would complain about the lack of AC so admission would be 50% instead of having to issue refunds. It was going to be a long, rough night. 

For the next hour, you handled the small crowd of attendees coming in, then hit a lull, allowing you a moment to pull out your phone and scroll through your socials mindlessly.

“Hey.”

Din’s voice cut through the ambient crowd chatter from the lobby and theatre and you clumsily tucked your phone in your bra and looked up, trying to give him as sweet and soft of a smile you could muster.

“Hey yourself.” You cringed internally at the saccharine, soft tone of your voice, but you couldn’t help but fall into this coquettish nightmare version of yourself when he was around. 

Din swallowed and nodded, eyes darting over you nervously. He cleared his throat and tapped the desk a few times and nodded again.

“Let Gary know I’m here, yeah?”, he murmured, taking one last look at you before heading down the ramp to Dieter’s dressing room.

You watched him walk away, his tight little ass hugged beautifully in his dark, faded jeans, and you let out a hopelessly desperate breath. Din, despite being an enigma to you, had you in a chokehold and he didn’t even know it.

That routine carried on for the next week: Gary would send you to Dieter to see if he needed to call Din; Dieter would make a vague pass at you and when rejected, he would tell you Din needed to come in; Gary would look like he was going to have an aneurysm; Din would come in and shyly say hello. 

Capers was closed on Sundays and this particular Saturday felt like it was dragging. Before Gary could call out and send you to Dieter’s room, you were already at his office door asking if he needed to know if Din was coming in. Opening the ‘Staff Only’ door and being hit in the sinuses with weed haze didn’t have the same impact as it had before and you didn’t bother announcing yourself before you walked into Dieter’s dressing room.

“Din?”, you asked flatly, giving him a bored look. 

He looked up at you, noting your lack of enthusiasm and his interest was piqued. “Awe, CeeBee. Take a seat and a hoot with me, sweetheart.”

If you had been blindfolded and didn’t already know he was sitting in front of you, you wouldn’t have known it was Dieter speaking; his tone was much softer and almost Din-like. For a moment, your guard was dangerously close to coming down and the way he looked at you through the blue haze from his bong was almost too enticing for you to ignore.

But then he coughed hard and let out a fart, making himself laugh. The illusion was broken and a scowl sat on your bored face. 

“Din?” you repeated in a far more firm tone. 

Dieter continued to giggle and cough, obviously ignoring your annoyance and once he was settled he nodded before taking another hit off the bong. He sat upright and blew the smoke into the air, coughing again.

“Yeah, baby… you know the drill. He needs to watch the master work.”

“And you really think that’s you? Seriously?”

It came out before you could stop yourself. God, you must be PMS’ing what with your inability to hold back your words or your facial expressions. 

Dieter stilled, eyeing you warily. You saw the shift. The annoying stoner had evaporated into the smoke in the room and what was now standing from the couch was a considerably angry looking Dieter.

 “What was that?” His voice was solid and low, almost coming out in a dangerous growl. 

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out as he took a few strides and stood above you, glaring down at you.

“I didn’t catch that, CeeBee. You wanna say that again?”

The low and burning timbre of his voice did something to you that you hated more than anything -  it turned you on. You could feel how wet you were getting as his intense puffs of breath from his nose hit you in the face. His brown eyes were dark and narrowed right onto yours and just by shifting his weight he was closer to you, backing you against the wall next to his door. His hand came up beside your head, planting his palm on the wall while the other gripped your chin ever so gently.

His head tilted slightly and his voice was softer, but still held the edge of his temper. “I put up with a lot from you, you know, CeeBee. Don’t think you appreciate what a fuckin’ gentleman I’ve been.”

Despite the position you were in, you couldn’t help but scoff. Dieter shook his head, his grip on your chin becoming a bit firmer.

“I mean it. I’ve been good. You think anyone would hear you scream from down here?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the threat and he smiled.

“There it is.”, he chuckled darkly. “Knew you were a smart girl.” 

He leaned forward, mouth far too close to yours and murmured, “Might not be as in shape as the Virgin Din, but I know how to take you down a few pegs, honey…”

God dammit. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working and the self loathing you had become well acquainted with in all your morning afters was getting itself ready for another bout. But then your mind stopped, going back to what he said about Din.

“Virgin?”

The smug smirk on Dieter’s face grew into a smile as he leaned back and he purred,  “Yeah, you think that nerd has ever put his dick in anything that wasn’t made of silicone?”

You could feel yourself getting hotter and wetter by the second. Why was Dieter talking about Din like that so hot? And why did his eyes boring into yours as he spoke make you feel like you were being put in your place? Sure, you’d maintained prolonged eye contact with Dieter in a standoff situation more than once. But this? This was different; he had the upper hand and knew it, and was now toying with you.

His hand on your chin moving down to your neck and barely putting any pressure, like he was testing the waters. His eyes followed suit. 

“I can see your pulse…”, he murmured, eyes lidded and fixed on the side of your neck. He brushed his thumb over your pulse point and his eyes snapped back up to yours. He inhaled and in his exhale, he breathed out, “You like this…”

He wet his lips and he had you wound so tightly around his fingers, you could have come from that act alone. Dieter was mesmerizing and his ability to seduce was something you never expected. 

“I caught you watching him, you know.” With that low growl of a declaration, you swear you saw a possessive flash in his eyes, and his grip on your throat tightened slightly. “He wouldn’t know what to do with you. But I do…”

“Bra-Bravo… ple-”

He cut you off with a grin. “You wanna break that vow of celibacy you been clingin’ to?”

You scoffed and bit back, “I have not been celibate!”

Dieter laughed lowly and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You just fuckin’ everyone but me, huh?” Then pressed another kiss to your cheek. “Whorin’ it up and not letting me have a bite?” He kissed the other cheek. “So mean, baby.”

He ghosted his mouth over yours, and he pulled back as you tried to catch his lips with your own. You let out a soft whimper and he returned a mock-pout to you in response. “Awe, CeeBee. Don’t tell me that all you needed was a firm hand and I coulda fucked you on this couch years ago…”

“Fuck you…” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’d love to, honey.” The juxtaposition between the softness of his eyes and voice, and the force of his hand pushing between your thighs made your head spin. His large hand cupped your whole crux and his middle finger pressed the cheap, thin polyester fabric of your toga against your thong-clad slit.

Dieter sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked almost pained and he groaned, “Fuck, you’re soaked…”

It was like he broke character at the hint of a sopping wet pussy and the real Dieter came back out for a split second. “I need her, CeeBee… bet she’s aching for me, too.”

His mouth met yours in a hungry, fevered, desperate kiss, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and against yours. You gripped onto anywhere you could - neck, shoulders, hair - and he grabbed your ass and hauled you up and over to the couch, letting you fall back onto it unceremoniously. Before you could react, he was down on his knees between your open legs, frantically tossing your toga skirt up, covering your head.

“Bravo! What the fu-ooooooh!” Your confusion turned to pleasure as his mouth kissed your heat through your thong with the same fervor he’d kissed your mouth.

He reached under you as he kept his mouth on you, pulling your thong down. He sat up and brought the small clump of damp fabric to his nose and inhaled. 

“I fuckin’ knew it…”, he groaned. “Holdin’ out this sweet of a pussy on me.”

He dove back in.

Unbeknownst to both you and Dieter, Gary got tired of waiting. He’d assumed that you and Dieter were having a blowout argument and that’s why you hadn’t returned yet and he called Din in. Whether Dieter was going on tonight or not, just in case he decided to throw a fit, Din needed to be here.

Twenty-five minutes later, Din walked in the front door and was surprised to see the ticket desk unmanned. He was disappointed; he liked seeing you and seeing that smile and hearing your voice. Even if outwardly he didn’t show it, he had nightly dreams about pulling you apart and making you whimper and whine under him. But he never took the chance; a girl like you probably already knew what a good fuck felt like and Din hadn’t made love to anyone ever. Never even gotten a blowjob, let alone a handjob. What 36 year-old was still a virgin? He knew what kind - him. The loser who grew up in a religious cult, the kid with the only outside influence being kung fu and swashbuckling movies watched in secret in his cousin’s basement. Those were the only taste of the outside world he had and as soon as he turned 18 and escaped, he found a mixed martial arts studio to train him then he found Caper… and then you. It would have all been perfect - if he knew what to do with his dick. 

He sighed and dropped his shoulders. Adjusting his backpack, he wandered down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door and pushed in.

The first thing that hit him was the smell of Dieter’s weed, and before he could feel nauseated at the smell again, he heard… Din furrowed his brows. He knew that sound, but only in his late night fantasies. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, covering his mouth.

It was you. 

Then he heard Dieter, grunting and groaning, and his heart sank. Just from those sounds alone, he knew Dieter had finally sunk his claws into you and he didn’t have a hope in hell in having you to himself. He swallowed back the dejected huff, about to turn away and leave. But he couldn’t; the chance to at least get to see you all laid out and in ecstasy was too great a temptation, even if he wasn’t the one to do it to you. 

Cautiously, he took a few steps to Dieter’s dressing room door. It was open halfway and he thought if he could just take a peek, just get a glimpse, he would be set for the next six months at least in his nightly self-loving session. 

He crept up to the door, peering around the frame, and almost choked. There you were, naked and on your hands and knees, crying out and gripping the sofa as Dieter had one foot planted on the floor and the other he kneeled on as he pounded into you, his hand digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth went dry and he could feel his jeans getting tighter in the crotchular region, mindlessly rubbing his bulge against the door frame in small motions. 

When Dieter reached one of his thick arms around your waist and brought your back up flush with his front and Din got his first look at your bare breasts, bouncing in time with Dieter’s thrusts, he let out an involuntary groan, inadvertently alerting you and Dieter to his presence.

Your eyes, hazy and heavy lidded, snapped to Din’s face watching through the doorway and Dieter chuckled into your ear before sucking your lobe into his mouth.  His eyes bore into Din’s and Din couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move, he was frozen in place.

Dieter smiled, his teeth holding on to your ear as he grunted and thrusted up into you.

“Din… her cunt’s perfect. Ripe and ready to snatch your v-card, buddy.”

You watched as Din’s hips involuntarily bucked against the door frame and Dieter felt you flutter and clench around him. 

“Mmmm… she wants you, too, my dude.”

You whined as Dieter let you go, shoving you face down on  the couch and pulling out. Din watched with eyes wide as Dieter walked tall and proud towards him, his cock bouncing up against his paunch of a belly. Din stumbled back, his back hitting the wall and Dieter stepped out into the hallway and crowded again Din, caging him between his arms and bringing his face right up to his.

“You wanna taste her?” Dieter rasped, his mouth close enough to Din’s that he could smell your tangy musk on his breath. 

Din’s mouth was agape and eyes wide as Dieter leaned in and kissed him. It was much softer than Din could have ever expected Dieter to be, but he gasped into Dieter’s grin when the older man’s hand palmed the front of Din’s jeans, feeling just how hard his dip into voyeurism had made him.

“Oh you’re ready, aren’t you, buddy…”, Dieter grunted, pulling back slightly to watch as Din’s eyes rolled back as he applied more pressure and Din bucked his hips against his hand. He smiled as he watched the younger man pant and huff and he kissed him again, this time more aggressively. Dieter then pulled Din away from the wall and dragged him into his dressing room, standing behind him while ensuring Din’s eyes were on you. Dieter wrapped his arms around his slight waist and started undoing his jeans as he kissed his neck.

“Now… Ceebee’s ready… got her all primed up for you.”, he purred, then nodded towards you. “Show him.”

You hesitated, unsure if this is not only what you really wanted but also for Din. But then Din bit his lip looking at you in a way that set your body on fire and Dieter gave you a firm glare, wordlessly taking control of the situation. You tentatively laid back and opened your legs, pussy puffy, pink and glistening. Din whimpered and Dieter smiled darkly at you.

“Good girl…” His tone was low and dark and he kissed Din’s neck again, sliding the zipper fly of his jeans down. “You want that? Wanna feel it wrap around your dick, there, bud?”

Din nodded eagerly, a pained, yearning look on his face as his eyes stayed glued to your exposed core. 

“Yeah?”, Dieter breathed out against Din’s neck, lifting his shirt to expose his toned midriff. “I know you’re packin’...”

Din huffed out a whine and closed his eyes, leaning back as Dieter’s hand pushed down his underwear enough that his cock slapped up against his stomach. The top was red and weeping, looking painfully hard. Dieter gently gripped it and you watched as Din’s knees nearly buckled as he let out a loud whine.

“Shhh… I know… new things… overwhelming… Doing so good for me, buddy.”, Dieter cooed softly, his thick arm holding Din up against him while the other gently began to stroke him. “Ceebee, honey… look at him. Fuckin’ hung…”

Your eyes hadn’t left Din’s cock. Even in Dieter’s large hand it looked big, and your cunt ached in need. You sucked in a breath through your nose and your lips parted as you exhaled shakily. 

“She likes you, Din… Look at her. All flushed and needy… look how wet she is…”

Din nodded and whimpered, biting his lip hard as Dieter spoke softly as he stroked him. His head lolled back onto Dieter’s shoulder and he panted out, “I… I wan’her… but I-I don’know wha-”

“Shhhh… Dieter Bravo has you covered, buddy. Bet you you’re gonna wanna marry her after this.”

He nipped his neck and released Din’s cock and put his hands on his hips. Din huffed out, a pained look on his face and Dieter nodded to you.

“Look at her, Din… You wanna feel how warm and wet she is?” Dieter’s voice was low and his eyes were menacingly dark. He nudged Din towards you, his shins and knees hitting the edge of the couch between your open legs.

You looked up at him, lips parted and brows furrowed; he looked perfect and so very overwhelmed. His hair was beginning to stick to his forehead and his small, husky whimpers were making it very hard to not just get him away from Dieter. 

“Din… if you don’t want thi-”

“N-no!”, he choked out, looking down at you. His pupils had taken over his whole eye and his features were pulled in a way that made him look almost demonic. “No… fuck, no I wan-want this- you. I want you.”

You nodded, your breath hitching at his apparent enthusiastic - and slightly unnerving - need. 

“Atta boy, Dinny…”, Dieter praised in a growl. “You wan’her snatch suckin’ you in?”

Din nodded, mouth hung open, panting as his eyes stared at your pussy. Dieter continued to chuckle, gripping Din’s hips as his cocked stayed hard and twitching against his flat stomach. 

“You ever touched the winking eye of god, buddy?” Dieter cooed. Din shook his head slightly, still dumbly staring down at you. Dieter nudged Din again, onto his knees between your legs. “Go on… don’t be shy…”

Din brought a shaky hand to your core, a whisper soft touch of his index finger moved slowly around your hole and then up against your clit, making you twitch and let out a gasping whine. 

“See? She likes that…” Dieter’s eyes flick to you. “Don’t you, CeeBee?”

You nodded and moaned out an ‘uh-huh’. You let out a whimpering yelp as he pushed two fingers into you suddenly, and Dieter’s hand gripped his wrist.

“Ho, ho, ho, buddy! Easy… gotta be gentle with her…”, he tsk’d softly, his brows furrowed and he pulled Din’s hand back gently. 

“S-sorry… I-”

“S’okay, Din… it’s okay…”, you nodded looking up at him. It didn’t hurt, it just surprised you.

Dieter moved his hand up over Din’s and adjusted Din’s thumb over your clit, having him apply just the right amount of pressure in a circular motion. “That’s it… ringin’ the devil’s doorbell…”

Dieter released his hand and Din pushed two fingers back into you slowly, keeping the mobile pressure on your bundle of nerves. Despite the slight jerky motions and the bit of hangnail Din had on one of his fingers, for a first timer, it felt pretty good. Dieter patted Din’s hip and moved around to you, dipping his head down and kissing you. 

“You gonna give him a good time, CeeBee?” The softness in his eyes and the direct way he asked told you that he ironically and weirdly had a great deal of respect for the ritual you were about to take part in, the one involving Din losing his virginity. 

You nodded, huskily replying, “Yeah, Bravo-ooh fuck! Yes… r-right there!” then panting out moans.

Din’s long fingers had found the spot that had evaded so many men in your life. And he hit it over and over, and his thumb, the way his thumb kept the motion on it… 

Dieter got up quickly and moved behind Din, his hands on his shoulders, nodding. “Keep doing that… Yes, yeah, good boy. Yeah… when she makes that sound? You keep doing whatever it is you were doing when she made that sound.”

Din’s breath panted out between his teeth as he bit his lip in time with his fingers in and out of you. Dieter didn’t know where to look: you, knees bent and legs open, whining and arching your back or Din, sweating and hypnotized by your pussy sucking his fingers in. He swallowed hard and put his hands back on Din’s slim waist and almost hoarsely encouraged him as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Come on, buddy… you got her this close… come on… make her cry… keep - Christ on a cracker - keep going…”

Din’s breath hitched with each inhale and his cock was painfully hard, beading precum on his toned stomach, and you could feel your orgasm slipping with his loss of rhythm. You reached down and gently grabbed his wrist to stop him, looking at his face.

Din was on another level of existence. His eyes were glazed and his bottom lip was wet and reddened from his worrying it between his teeth and his cheeks, neck and the part of his chest you could see were flushed and damp. 

“Buddy…”, Dieter whispered as he pressed soft kisses on his neck. “She wants you, baby…”

Din nodded loosely, his brows furrowing, and the only sound that came from him was a low whine as Dieter’s hands pulled his jeans and underwear down further on his hips. You sat up and tugged his t-shirt up and off his body and there he was. 

“God, I remember when I looked this good…”, Dieter groaned, reaching around and smearing his hand through the precum on Din’s stomach. Din hissed and groaned as Dieter gripped his cock and rolled his foreskin up and over the tip with a gentle twist a few times, making the younger man shudder and whine and lean back against him. 

You watched this severely intimate moment between the two men and you could feel your arousal slick your hole even more than it was. “Din…”, you mewled.

Dieter’s gaze snapped to you and he grinned, his brow flicking. “Hear that, buddy? She’s askin’ for you. You and your big, fuckin’ hog. Wants you to rail her. You think you can?”

“Y-yesgodpleaseyes!”, DIn grunted out, desperation and agony bleeding his words together.

Dieter nodded, a silent, huffed chuckle rippled out of him and over Din’s skin, and you watched the goosebumps raise where it touched. He stopped his movement and held his cock, thumbing the slit gently.  “How you gonna take her, huh? You wanna fuck’er from behind, holdin’ on to her tits? She feels so good like th-”

“I… wanna see… her face.”, he stammered out slack jawed, keeping his dazed eyes on yours.

Wordlessly you took his hand and pulled him down to you, and he responded by kissing you. Given that it was only his second time locking lips with another person ever, you excused how wide he had his mouth and how forcefully his tongue jabbed your teeth. 

You reached between the two of you and wrapped your hand around Din’s aching member and he whined pitifully into your mouth, bucking his hips. Dieter put his hands on his waist and dug his fingers in as he hotly growled into Din’s ear, “So fuckin’ ready, Dinny-boy!”

You notched Din’s cock at your waiting entrance and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, with Dieter hushing him from behind. 

It was then that you heard him - Gary was yelling for you, Dieter or Din as he walked down the ramp towards the ‘Staff Only’ door. Dieter’s head whipped up and at his open dressing room door then back at you, eyes wide with a hesitant grin pulling at one side of his mouth. 

“You two… you keep going… I’ll - “, he stated softly, thumbs pointing at the door, and with that, he got up, threw on his robe. 

It was almost too late when Dieter bounded towards the door and he ended up slamming it behind him just as Gary walked into the hallway. 

“Bravo, I been callin’ for-” “We are meditating.”, Dieter replied, trying to keep his tone as ‘zen’ as possible as he put his palms together and bowed. “We are healing what is fractured.”

Gary stared at him for a beat before narrowing his eyes. “You’re what?” “Meditating. And you are bringing in some real bad energy, there, Gare-bear.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”, Gary barked back, confusion and nervousness right under the surface.

Dieter smiled, keeping his voice smooth and calm. “Your negative vibes are giving you what we call ‘energy constipation’... so come in, sit on the floor with us and hum your body’s vibration to give yourself a spiritual laxative.”

Gary must have thought that he died and this was his own personal hell. He stared at Dieter for a second too long, trying to find anything to say, but only managed a hoarsely gruff “No.” before he turned and left the hallway. 

Dieter watched him leave and when the ‘Staff only’ door closed, he breathed out a sigh of relief and returned to the room. 

Din had his eyes clenched shut, hissing curses under his breath as you hushed him. Dieter couldn’t ignore the want apparent in your voice. 

“He in yet?”, he asks softly, crawling in behind Din again. He noted you giving him a nodding shrug and he nodded back. “Buddy, come on…”

Dieter gripped Din’s hips and pushed them forward gently enough for his cock to wedge its way into you. You gasped and gripped Din’s shoulders.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod!”, Din whined out as his cock moved into you. He tilted his head back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Din was thick and you were torn between feeling honored that you were the first to feel his girth stretch your pussy and what a shame it was that he wasn’t getting his hog sucked or fucked regularily. As his coarse hairs at the base of his pressed up against your clit, your mind went blank. Sure, you’d had dicks of all sizes throughout your trysts and encounters, but Din was the biggest. Even Dieter, with his extensive experience, couldn’t compare to how big Din was and what it was doing for you… apparently, size did matter.

“Jesus fuckin - Din… honey… you’re huge…”

Dieter’s hands on his hips pulled Din back and then pushed him forward. “Keep this pace…”, he murmured, peering over Din’s shoulder. “Look… look down… Jesus, look…”

Din managed to bring his head down and it was almost too much, seeing your tits rise and fall with each breath while his cock went into you and came out, shining with your arousal. 

“There’s nothing better, Dinny-boy…”, Dieter cooed before kissing his neck. You watched between slitted eyelids as one of his hands came up to Din’s chest, gently tweaking one of his nipples. 

It happened in slow motion: Din’s body jerked and he let out an agonized groan, your eyes widened and you grabbed his arms, and Dieter’s smile dropped and he pulled Din’s hips back.

Din’s cock was already spewing white, pearly cum as it popped up and out of you. His come dribbled out of your pussy and off your mound, lips and the creases where your thighs met your crux, pooling under you. All three of you were breathing heavily, while Din’s brows furrowed above his clenched eyes and you and Dieter exchanged glances.

The quiet of all of your breathing was cut by Dieter scoffing, “Well that was fuckin’ rude.”

You stared at him, completely disgusted by his audacity and snapped, “Bravo, what the fuck??”

Din murmured “I’m sorry.” and you sympathetically rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay… we ca-we can try again?”, you offered softly.

Dieter scoffed again, sounded offended, but you weren’t sure at what. “No! I saw what you did there, Din, and that was NOT the way! You’re cleanin’ up his fuckin’ mess like a gentleman!”

“Dieter - Jesus Christ!”

He roughly grabbed Din around the waist and pulled him back with one arm and his other wrapped under his armpit in a Half Nelson, his hand gripping his hair. His grin was scarily intimidating. “Party’s not over. You’re gonna make her cum, fingers and mouth.”

Din nodded, clearly spooked but fully on board for whatever, and Dieter shoved his face into your pussy and held it there.

If Din was shaky on his first time putting his dick in a pussy, he was a natural born killer with his mouth. He took to it like a fish to water, intuitively going for your clit with tongue then his mouth. You let out a sigh and smiled, feeling like you had to fight your eyes from crossing. 

“Yeah…”, Dieter groaned, letting Din go and getting up. He pushed his weed rolling tray off the coffee table and shoved his pants to his ankles before sitting on the table and gripping his cock in his hands while he had a front row seat to Din eating you out. 

Din had watched enough porn and read enough about how eating pussy was like using your tongue to get the meat from between the bones on a chicken wing that he felt confident enough about it, and your sighs and soft breathy sounds encouraged him to keep going.

He adjusted his face lower, shoving his tongue into you and ground his nose against your bundle of nerves, sending a wave of pleasure over your body. The only thing that could dampen this was - 

“She taste good, buddy?”, Dieter grunted, tugging his cock. His face was red and sweaty and on every downstroke, his fist pushed into his belly.  

“Shut the fuck up, Bravo!”, you hissed, arching your back slightly and grabbed your tits,worrying your nipples between your fingers.

Dieter grinned, grunting, “Tell me to shut up again… I wanna cum on your tits while he tongue fucks you.”

You were about to retort, but Din moved his mouth back up to your clit, and shoved a few fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. You pinched your nipples hard and cried out, screeching his name and Din moaned and whined as your arousal squirted up his arm and on his lower face.

Dieter stood up and took a step towards you but tripped over his pants still around his ankles, falling face first on the floor.

Din sat up, his shoulders rising and falling with the biggest grin on his wet face. “You’re so pretty…”

You thought it was such an oddly innocent thing to say to you, given the things that just transpired, but you smiled at him. You both couldn’t hold back the giggles and Din caged you between his elbows as he leaned down and kissed you. 

As you made out on the couch, Dieter groaned face down on the floor. “I think I broke my dick.”

That night’s show went down as one of the best Din had ever given, while Dieter went to the hospital for a broken wrist and potentially bruised phallus. You were sure Gary knew exactly what had happened in the dressing room, but he said nothing beyond a quick nod and a maybe half smile. 

The doors opened and you looked at the rows of friends and family in rows on either side of the room, then your eyes locked with Din as he stood at the other end of the aisle, next to Dieter. His mouth twitched, showing the emotion he was trying to keep at bay, as you walked towards him. When you finally stood in front of him, he took your hand, and you both faced Dieter.

“Dearly beloved.”, Dieter started with a smile. “You are gathered here to watch me marry these two chucklefucks because I’m the one who brought them together.”

Gary huffed angrily from the front row. “Jesus Christ, Bravo.”

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

IS THERE A VERSION OF JOEL MILLER I WOULDN'T FUCK?

[a case study in how thirsty i am for this man.] [aka fic recommendations]

Unfortunately, in my extensive research on this topic, I have found some pretty damning evidence against my sanity.

dad's best friend!joel miller x fem!reader

Your Summer Dream [masterlist] by @swiftispunk It is a scientific fact that if you place Joel Miller on a beach he becomes 100x hotter. I don't make the rules, I just report them.

Creep it Real! by @swiftispunk I am a puddle. I melted and I'm a shallow pathetic puddle. Cowboy and Angel. I just hnnnnnggggg. I need him to ruin me pls dear god.

*I'm realizing if i include all the DBF!JM i read this will get very long, very quickly, and i think i have revealed enough of myself on this blog to highlight my very obvious daddy issues

**speaking of daddy issues...

stepdad!joel miller x fem!reader

Don't Be Cute, Be Nasty by @cockslutpadalecki i'm pretty sure this was the first stepdad!joel miller anything i read and it awoke something in my soul. it's always fun to reach new levels of my daddy issues and BY GOD was this just 🫠

Bad Girl [part i of many] by @seventeenpins he walks in on her while she's watching stepdaddy porn and good lord it gets filthier and filthier in the best kind of way.

boyfriend's dad!joel miller x fem!reader

Lost in the Dark [masterlist] by @iamasaddie i expected to be a slut reading this but then it made me an emotional slut out of nowhere i am obsessed. there is nothing i love more than being drawn in by my thots only to be hit by an emotional bus out of nowhere.

Thigh's Out AU [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity not only is this a boyfriend's dad AU, but said boyfriend's dad is a hot and slutty. just like i like my dilfs.

father-in-law!joel miller x fem!reader

Pink [masterlist] by @netherfeildren holy fuck. that's all. just holy fuck. this altered my genetic makeup.

Help, I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter spoiler alert: he takes her wedding ring off before dicking her down and I-- 👀 send help.

***i didn't think i had a lot of significant other's father!joel miller in my repertoire, but i had to stop myself again from listing them all on this one otherwise we'd be here all day. shit, i'm learning things about myself 🤡

dark therapist!joel miller x fem!reader

Session 1 by @elvinaa i think this only highlights how badly i need an actual therapist (as does this entire list actually).

sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader

Meet Me in the Back (1) & The Night is Dark Enough ... (2) written by @atticrissfinch It does not bode well for me that this version of Joel Miller made me so fucking feral. In no way, shape, nor form should a sleazy gas station clerk make me feel this way AND YET HERE WE ARE.

tattoo artist!joel miller x fem!reader

Honeyed [masterlist] by @softlyspector This one absolutely hits too close to home for me, but that's probably why I'm so obsessed with it. My touch adverse yet touch starved ass ate this up and left no crumbs😌

chiro!joel miller x fem!reader

Say Yes to Heaven by @pascalisbaby i thought the medical side of my brain would cringe at the doctor/patient dynamic but as it turns out my depravity knows no bounds 🥵

frat dad!joel miller x fem!reader

The Old College Try by @proxima-writes i didn't even know this was something i needed in my life until it came into my life. blessings🙏🏼

ceo!joel miller x fem!reader

Sex on Fire [masterlist] by @macfrog i don't think i need to harp on what that sugar daddy vibes do to me🤤

mafia!joel miller x fem!reader

Divine Dynasty by @cavillscurls Remember when I said putting Joel by a body of water makes him 100x hotter? The same applies to a Mafia AU. I can't explain it. I have no sound reasoning to support my claim other than "he hot tho".

pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader

I Know it When I See it [masterlist] by @bageldaddy 🔥🔥🔥 that is all.

maintenance man!joel miller x fem!reader

Maintenance Man [masterlist] by @gracieispunk toolbelt. say less.

slasher!joel miller x fem!reader

Slasher [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity i thought for sure, FOR SURE, this would be blind, pure, detached smut that i could enjoy with no emotional ties whatsoever. and then all of a sudden i'm feeling things??? he just loves his mom so much😭 mama's boy wants to be happy. JAIL. real jail for murderer joel miller. horny jail for me. and audacity jail for toxic b/c how dare you make me feel things for a serial killer😩

as i said previously, the evidence speaks for itself. i have yet to find a version of joel miller i could not immediately fuck. i'm actually planning (i have a lot of plans and no time smh), to go through all these on my recommendation blog w/play by play commentary so everyone can know just how unhinged i am for this guy.

but now!! you guys have a syllabus for my insanity!!

now, excuse me while i go find a therapist (a real one, not a hot/dark joel miller version of one) (although beggars can't be choosers right?👀)

dividers by @saradika

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way Master List

Gif by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Raider!Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Spotify Playlist

Inspiration came from @toxicanonymity and her fantastic Raider!Joel.

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also refered to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

Unknown chapters at this point but heres a starter

Chapter 1: Joel takes you away from everything you know

Chapter 2: Joel takes what he wants, Tommy tries to make things easier

Bonus Chapter: Tommy takes Little One's virginity

Chapter 3: Joel softens up, and readers learns her roll in all this

Chapter 4: Little One is getting cocky, and finds herself in trouble, but Tommy and Joel are there for her

Chapter 5: Joel and Tommy don’t feel good

Suggested drabble: Period sex

Chapter 6: Things change with Tommy, and Joel shows a more vunerable side during a near disaster.

Chapter 7: Little One and Lorenzo spend some time together, and Lorenzo drops a bomb on Little One.

sick bonus chapter

Chapter 8: For 6 months of Little One's pregnancy her relationship with Joel and Lorenzo shifts and changes.

Suggested Drabble: Brotherhood

Chapter 9: The aftermath.

Suggested Drabble: “It Wasn’t Always Like This”

Chapter 10: The escape does not go as planned.

Alternate ending: a happier end

Canon Sequel Mini Series, Ghost of You

Follow Ellie's life sifting through to lies to discover the truth of her creation.

Dark Ending Timeline: Going Under

Going Under: Chapter 1:

Going Under: Chapter 2:

Going Under: Chapter 2.5:

Going Under: Chapter 3

Going Under: June and Tommy

Going Under: Chapter 4

Going Under: Finale

Suggested drabbles to see how the uncles are doing after the canon ending: Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy, and Better Than Revenge

If neither ending satisfied you or if there was something you wanted to see but didn’t, if you wanna write something in universe will be happy to link it to my masterlist!

Art by @melodymakesart

Drabbles, One Shots, Thots

Period Sex: Period sex with Joel makes Little One more confused than ever at what she is to Joel

Well, That’s Alright Because I Like The Way It Hurts: Joel is gone for longer than expected and you worry about him. When he comes back, you let him take his frustration out on your body

Brotherhood: Tommy and Joel reflect on their relationship as brothers.

“It Wasn’t Always Like This”: In Tommy’s arms, Little One thinks over her year with Joel

Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy: Lorenzo is slowly recovering, meets his niece for the first time

Better than Revenge: Lorenzo and Tommy can’t get revenge on Joel, but they can get revenge on the one who started it all

Zach and Lorenzo’s Wedding

Gateaway Car by Taylor Swift, thoughts by @fandxmslxt69

Art by @k-ra

Joel and Lorenzo by @fen-is-unwell

If this sort of thing doesn't interest you or triggers you, hide dub con and non con from your tags as I will be tagging any fics like that as such

Main Blog (filled with more normal fics lol): @romanarose

This is absolutely not anything anyone needs to do bc ur lovely comments are enough but if anyone makes a book board, art, a fic or anything based off this series, you absolutely can! I know some creators aren’t for it but I love when people do that, and I’ve written a few fics for a few series myself. If you are so inclined and are okay with it, I’ll attach them to this master list (that includes if you don’t like my endings you can make your own 😂)

But as always, nice comments mean the world. I know with this sort of content you may not want to Reblog it on your page, but if you leave a comment or send an anon, that means the world and keeps me writing!

[runawaydr3amerao3]

🎙️Idling In the Impala and 🌈 @supergaysupernatural

It's time for a new episode of the @idlingintheimpalapodcast with Kasey and Sandra! 🥳 This week they have an interview with the hilarious, lovely, talented AJ aka @supergaysupernatural aka Imagination_creation over on AO3.

AJ's writing (primarily Sam/Dean and John/Dean) isn't for the faint of heart (nor are some of the subjects covered in this episode! 🤭), but I thoroughly recommend checking it out—just heed those tags, people!

Along with her fic writing, the interview covers subjects like: how personal experience can soften your views of conflicting characters; getting caught writing gay incest porn in your highschool science class; and how seeing yourself reflected in a show like Supernatural can make feeling isolated a little less lonely.

But like all Idling episodes, there is so much ground to cover and never enough time! AJ is thoughtful, funny, and intriguing, and it was so nice hearing another Aussie accent on the podcast. I'm rapt we finally got to listen to S&K pick her brain. I always knew it would be an interesting landscape. 👏😁

Listen Now: 🔴 YouTube 🟢 Spotify

You can also check out the Tumblr post for episode timestamps if you want to tune in to something in particular:

Oh, and here's a puzzle for you. We couldn't quite decide on a word in the Idling In the Impala discord server, but what do you call someone who's not quite a John-sympathiser and not quite a John-apologist? I liked John-thot, personally. 😏 I mean, AJ will fight you for him regardless of her own feelings, but a label might still help. 🙃

Don't forget that likes, comments, and subscriptions on YouTube and Spotify are super helpful for the podcast in battling the algorithms. They also support Kasey @sam-is-my-safe-word and Sandra @talltalesandbedtimestories to continue bringing us this excellent content, and content creators keep the fandom turning, so let's show them all the love we can! 🫶🥰

[smittenbyvillains]

Hi!!! so I was wondering if I could request a Eobard x fem reader fic where the reader works at star labs (before the particle accelerator explosion) and is competing with Hartley for a promotion, so reader decides to seduce Eobard into giving it to her followed by some smut. if your not comfortable writing this that’s okay! it’s just boss!eowells is really plaguing my thots rn 😩😩😩

IM GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

Warnings: smutty, use of good girl, he's baby girl, use of sir possibly heheHEHE (sorry I'm so rusty)

Y/N really wanted the promotion and needed it. Your rent just really went up. It was the landlord just being a complete ass about it. Y/N was thinking of ways to do get the promotion that was right but none of it seemed to work because Hartley wanted the same promotion. Y/N groaned to themselves at her work desk. It was starting to get late, and you had been trying to get the most done. Then an idea came in mind. You noticed how your boss aka Harrison Wells would steal glances at you. A plan was coming through. Although you never thought you would have done that. You knew he always stayed late. You decided to go to his office. Of course, Hartley was there chatting with Harrison. You knocked on the office door. Questioning if this was the right idea. "Come in." Eobard said. He knew it was you. He dismissed Hartley telling him to get some rest. Hartley didn't want to but knew it was best not to fight the orders. He walked out after you came in and gave you a glare. You ignored it. Eobard smiled at you. He was glad he hired you.

You approached his desk and put a huge smile on. He looked at you knowing something was up but didn't comment. "I'm surprised you haven't gone home; you usually care about sleep." He chuckled.

"I haven't finished what I wanted to do for the day. I was hoping we could talk." You said trying to start up a conversation. You decided to go behind his desk and sit on his desk. He watched as you did that and held back the smirk. He saw how you skirt was riding up.

"Ah, I see, what do you want to talk about?" he asked as he sat in his chair and leaned back. He was now purposely looking at you.

"I wanted to admit something, I haven't been able to... it could risk my job." You said and bit your lip more out of nervousness. He nodded. "You can tell me anything." Eobard said. You took a deep breath.

"I like you; I like my boss." You spoke. "I can't get you out of my head." You spoke. It wasn't even a lie. He didn't seem surprised and leaned forward.

"I see, how come you didn't tell me before?" He asked. You blushed a bit.

"I can't lose my job... I've been trying to get the promotion.... cause I do need it." You said and moved closer. Eobard nodded and smiled.

"I can help you with both." He spoke. He leaned forward and slowly stood up. You looked up at him. You hardly said anything he was already saying this? He gently grasped your hips with one hand and lifted your chin with the other. His thumb rubbing your lip as he looked into your eyes. "You can say no anytime." He added and you nodded.

Eobard leaned in and kissed you slowly and you melted into the kiss and kissed him back. He pulled you closer to him getting desperate and more by the second. His hand on your hip moving up to your neck. He pulled away to look into your eyes. "You're so beautiful." He spoke in a tone saying he meant it. "I've been waiting for this."

Eobard was quick to kiss you again. He thought your dumbfounded reaction was adorable. Did you really not see? He smirked a bit and sat back and pulled you into his lap. You gasped. You started to grind against his one thigh. He watched as you did this. He pulled away from the kiss.

"Oh, what a needy girl, huh?" He said into your ear as he leaned in close to ear before kissing down your neck. His hands started to pull your blouse off. You whimpered. "Want more?" He teased. You nodded. "Words my sweet lady." He said. You pouted for a second.

"Please sir." You said not knowing what slipped. His eyes darkened more.

"Good girl, you keep calling me that and I am all yours." He spoke. He lifted you up enough to get your skirt and underwear off after getting your bra off. He admired your body as you sat there in his lap. "Now how about you help your boss?" He didn't really ask. You nodded quickly and got his pants off and his underwear. You went bright red. "You are sure my sweet lady." he asked again.

"Yes sir, I'm sure." You answered. He pulled you close again and chuckled as his hand moved down your body and he felt how wet you are already for him.

"So wet already for your boss hm?" He teased you and you whimpered as he continued to rub your clit.

"Please sir~" You whined. He chuckled and prepared you for a few more minutes before sinking you down slowly. You gasped and moaned as he felt so good inside of you. He groaned at how well you fit him. You were made for him. He slowly moved your hips to get you used to it. After a minute you got the rhythm and started to ride him. The office was filled of moans and groans of pleasure. An occasional whimper of pleasure. You were getting close and closer to cumming so was Eobard. He could tell.

"Cum for me my good girl~" he said. He had started to thrust up. You moaned as you started to quiver as you came. "Oh~ Good girl." He said as he came with a moan. He had you lean against him as he rode out each of your highs. "You got the promotion but a different one love." He smirked. "You will be everywhere with me." He spoke. "And i mean everywhere." He said with a darker smirk. He wasn't letting go of you now. Not even when his plan gets in motion. And you will be coming with him.

[sellenite]

meant to work on fics yesterday, but instead I spent like 10 hours working on my new theme ... oopsies!! (also, pls tell me what you think of it if you want, MWAH <3)

and just a little note on some things I'm working on/ brewing up:

✮ fluffy virginity-loss story for Choso (aka last chapter for Cherry Blossoms series) ✮ dark-angst for Suguru !!!! (actually so excited for this one) ✮ have this silly little idea for Gojo involving IKEA (which I posted awhile back) that I want to finish ✮ and I want to write something for Toji ... send thots and ideas if you feel hehe

[jolalibrary]

WELCOME TO UNDERCOVER PANDA SLEEPOVER (aka me + @thetriumphantpanda are together)—and after a fun filled day of eating and shopping, we’re hanging and here.

things we welcome in either of our inboxes (on anon or off):

secrets 👀

confessions

headcanons

thoughts/thots 🔥

hot takes (about PPCU characters)

fic/art/gif recs (including self-promo!)

shoutouts

guilty pleasures

FMK and other ask games

anything else… (pls be kind)

you can send to either inbox, please use #UndercoverPanda so we know it’s for this 🤍 HAVE FUN!

tagging in case interested: @psychedelic-ink @rhoorl @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @lavendertales @thelightsandtheroses @joelsgreenflannel @swiftispunk @joelscruff @scenaaario @perotovar

[sofasoap]

Love at first sight - 4

Pairing: Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Unintentional exposures. leading to embarrassments. Part I, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 5 ,Part 6,Epilogue

Warning: Mature rating. Talk about adult-ish stuff. A/N: Thanks to @kaplerrr helping me with Spanish words :) and @jynxmirage,@random-thot-generator,@okayyadriana for Rudy Thot thoughts.

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse

It’s been seven months. Seven months. Since the Taskforce left Mexico. Since you turned him down and left him. 

Just as he was about to summon his courage up and confess to you (after a bit of nudge and push from his hermano ) you shot him down completely. The pain that you both felt that night. Heartbroken.

“It’s better we stay as friends.”

Does that mean you had feelings for him too? He kept asking himself after that night. The way you sank into his embrace as you cried, like it was the last thing you will ever feel in this world. 

He can still feel your warmth from that night. The shape of your curve, the calming scent of you. 

Night after night, the dreams he had, you running through the field, smiling at him, or welcoming him home after a long tiring day, with your children jumping up and down, demanding their papá’s attention. 

And not so innocent ones. Your angelic voice whimpers as he slowly thrusts into you, or sweet mouth of yours wrapping around his hardened length, eagerly to please him. 

Where he wakes up in the morning, alone in the bed, with a throbbing ache that cannot be soothed. Even standing under the icy cold showers for a long time. 

Now he stands in his room, after a long hard training session, checking messages and scrolling through the contact list, finding the phone number of his cousin his mother wanted to get in touch with. That’s when he spotted your name.

His finger hovers over it. Itching to press the message or call button, wanting to check up on you. See how you are doing. Hearing your voice. 

“But.. friends can still keep in touch right?”You didn’t decline his offer to stay in touch. But the look on your face says it all. You will prefer not to. Why prolong the pain of pinning for each other while we can just cut the connection out once for all, and move on?

Letting out a sigh, he threw his phone onto the bed. He should just go have a shower and calm his disarranged brain. 

He started stripping himself off his uniform, throwing it all into the laundry basket, ready for the wash later that night.

That’s when he heard a scream coming out from his phone.

Rubbing your eyes as you finish writing the last bit of your report. You were exhausted. Drained. Self inflicted really. Anything to get your mind off about Mexico. Or Rudy.

Burning yourself out isn’t the way to go. Your professional side tells you. How many times you have scolded the boys, especially Simon when he is still up at 2 in the morning, sitting in the common room, drinking tea and staring into the dark of the night. Until you push him back into his room, threaten to dob him in with Price. Or even worse, getting Soap to whip his ass. 

Gaz has been fussing about how the two of you haven’t had your regular catch up session anymore since you buried yourself into work. He had a fair idea of what was running through your mind, but knowing you, he knows it's better not to press for information. Him and Price drop in every now and then into the infirmary with your favourite coffee and biscuit, forcing you to take breaks. 

Soap gives you a look when your body stiffens at the announcement of a possible mission with the Los Vaqueros, meaning time to head back to Mexico again. Your mind already running and listing all the plausible excuses you can dish out for not joining the mission, but you know they will be immediately declined. Maybe you can just hide in the infirmary. Or maybe you can just go hide in the mountain, going through the trails that Alejandro used to run around as a kid.  Probably not a good idea.you will be charged as a deserter. Price will give you the whole “ I-am-disappointed-in-you.” Dad talk if you really go up to him and beg for it. And that is the last thing you want. To let your whole team down. Little shrilling tone interrupts you from your excuse making dreams.Blindly grabbing the phone sitting on the desk as you hearing it ringing, you press the receive button without looking at the caller first, That is when you see a very well toned butt and muscular thigh popped up on the screen. 

You let out a very undignified scream.  The unidentified caller quickly turned around and stared at their phone with horror in their face. 

RUDY????

He screamed because you were screaming

 "AH MIERDA, YO-.. Ay Dios Mío ayúdame, que vergüenza.."He let out a stream of curses and exclaims as he scrambled to pick the phone back up and tried to cover himself up with the blanket at the same time. Unfortunately that only made things worse. The phone proceeds to drop onto the ground, directly in between his feet, camera aiming right at his private part. 

“RODOLFO PARRA!!! PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!!!” You shrieked as you covered your face up, trying hard not to look at the phone screen. “I .. I am so sorry. Ahhh….” Grabbing what he can from the tall boy, he manages to pull out a t-shirt and pair of shorts. Quickly donning the clothes on,“Um, I , I am decent, you can open your eyes..”  he stammered.

He can see you slowly lowering your hands from your eyes, clearly embarrassed and mortified from what you have seen. Never in his life does he want to throw himself off a cliff so much. Or maybe heading straight into a gunfire into a group of cartel probably will be a better situation to be than this. 

You still stare at him with wide eyes, hand covering half of your face. Not saying a word. What are you thinking? It was a pure accident. He must have accidently pressed the call button when he threw the phones onto the bed. Talk about timing.

“So. Um, how are you?” He cringed. 

“Could be better.” you admitted. He wondered. Were you missing him as well? Or were you making references to the incident that just happened.

“I am sorry. It was an. Ah. accident. I promise.”  Rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting away, he couldn't apologise enough.

Shaking your head, you let out a little chuckle. “It’s ok. I believe you.” he can see you were ready to say something more when your attention turned to someone off screen.

“No.. No, I am fine. Um. yea I saw a bug. Shoo. Go.”  Rolling your eyes as you try to wave the person offscreen out of the room.

“Sorry. That was Johnny. He heard my scream.” You pull your legs up, curling into the chair, making yourself comfortable as you turn your attention back to him. “Has something happened? Why did you call? How is Ale and the rest of the team? Your family?” you shot out all the questions in one go, worrying something has gone wrong, reason for the call.

“ Oh, no. I, it was a mistake, I must have pressed the wrong button when I put my phone down. I was about to go shower. Everyone is fine, my Mamá and sisters always ask about you.” he can feel his face and tip of his ears starting to heat up again. You pulled an apologetic smile as he mentioned about the family  “I didn’t have time to thank them properly after that night… “ you trailed off, mind seems to wander. After a few seconds you caught yourself and shook your head, letting out a yawn. “I am sorry. I'm a bit tired. How rude of me.” 

He looked at the time and mentally calculates the differences. 

“ Isn’t it nearly midnight over there? I better let you go. Get some rest. Again I am sorry for the, um, unintended exposure.” Rudy apologises again. He hopes no one will ever find out about the awkward incident. 

You laughed a little as you pressed your palm to your face, thinking back to the embarrassing moment. “ Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” His eyes softened. He misses your laugh. He missed that smile. He misses you so much. 

He just can’t let you go. “Hey Mini.”

“Yes Rudy?” Just as you were about to hang up, he summoned up the courage. He is not going to shy away again. 

“I miss you.”

He can see your flash of sadness in your eyes. Looking down, biting your lip before you close your eyes and opening them up again with a glint of tears, you reach to touch his face on the screen. 

“I miss you too.”

Tag list: @jynxmirage @kaplerrr @captainpriceslover @homicidal-slvt @floral-force @deadbranch @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @okayyadriana @random-thot-generator @siilvan @nightingal3-tales @crazymela @preciouslittlecreature

[almostempty]

he knows (lucien x f!reader)

(lucien x f!reader) | wc: 3.2k | other fics | pic from here

UH HEY! I’m just gonna drop this here and scurry away to finish the other lucien one shot that i also started today, ….and then i’ll return to finishing divorced dad rock joel, and responding to all of the lovely people on here–but, like, i really just need this guy in the most emotionally unavailable and fuckable way, i hope one of y'all gets me

tags/warnings/thots: 18+/explicit, smut, toxic ex/fuckboy lucien, sex instead of communicating or processing emotions, angst but we fuckin’ and that’s the whole plot, we hit raw in my fics bc of my imaginary latex aversion or something, crying, biting, dom lucien vibes (? i never know when that’s the right tag), big dash of pls sexy man fuck the feelings away, tell me if there’s something i should add  

– no editing, no thinking, wrote this in a fever dream while staring at one of the new gifs all afternoon, idk his character! I haven’t watched anything! i just saw the chains and the face and let the horny devil in charge of my sole brain cell take the lead, aka he's my barbie, i was trying to challenge myself to just do something short like 1k- but, uhhhh it’s only 3! 

seeking feedback though (as always) so i can improve!! tell me all ur thots pls! 

“I know,” Lucien argues, “but I never meant to hurt you.” 

“I don’t care anymore.” You speak plainly. Small and quiet. Without conviction. Apathetic. Honest. 

“Anymore?” 

“Baby, please.” He looks at you with those stupid round eyes. He’s effortlessly put together like the wrinkles in his silk shirt were approved by a team of stylists to give him a hint of carelessness. Your incessant attraction to an emotionally unavailable man, it pulls you toward him like a bitter fate. Your therapist, Angie, says you need to learn how to find healthy attachment attractive, but if you shudder with disgust at the thought then what’s the point? 

“Just listen to me,” he continues, talking in circles. Apologizing without taking accountability. Explaining away everything. His behaviors, words, decisions. Apparently, he floats through life at the whim of others. Like one of those ugly deep sea creatures, he tempts you like a glowing lure in the dark. Your eyes glaze over, everything shifting out of focus as you dissociate in your living room. No matter how numb you are, he calls to you. 

You aren’t listening to the words. They don’t matter. It doesn’t matter if his tone is sincere or if it’s thick with flattery and empty promises. It’s more basic than that. Simple. The timbre of his voice. Unique to him. Imprinted in the chambers of your heart. A sharp ache spears through you, and something cracks. A fat, hot, tear escapes. With your shoulders drooping, staring at the ground, the tear falls, splashing on the floor. 

When you look up, meeting his eyes, it’s over. Lucien pulls you close, wrapping his heavy arms around your frame, bracing for the crescendo, keeping you steady. Tears stream endlessly, flooding down your cheeks, sticking to your face and his neck as you bury your face into his warm skin. He’s still trying to placate you, speaking nonsense, thinking he can comfort you. Thinking he knows why you’re upset. Thinking he understands you. 

When your therapist asked you to define love you had described it as being understood. Being seen. Being known. Being considered and prioritized. 

Lucien thinks he knows you. Thinks he understands you. Does he think he loves you? 

Following this line of thought hurts. Splitting you open, a raw beating heart, glistening, thumping, full of life, or a meal fresh and hot for a carnivore to tear into with its sharp fangs. Plump muscle, rich and dark, bleeding out, helpless. Snapping back into reality you shake, a violent sob racking your diaphragm as the pads of his fingers massage the back of your neck. Soothing. Coaxing. 

You want it sharper. Rough. Violent. Distracting. Painful. Anything. With wet lashes, swollen eyes, and ragged breath you become fixated. Licking the salty tears from the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, you can feel his muscles and tendons beneath the flesh. So human and alive. He strokes his hand down your spine, attempting to pacify you, but it sparks something lurid and ravenous, instead. 

You graze your teeth along his neck. “What are you doing?” he mutters the question over the top of your head. Maybe he does know you. “What do you need?” He growls, lowly, the hand he traces your spine with trails lower this time. He’s gluttonous and torrid. A hair-trigger to shift from his concern for your pain and the hole in your heart to a sordid desire to mollify you with his fingers and his cock. 

Maybe it’s a perversion, the tangled experience of despair and desire, the duet of anger and arousal, the sick escape using sex to skip over the emotional suffering. But it’s exactly what you want. It’s the root of the fucked up toxicity. Of everything wrong between you. He does know. He does understand. The same heat that flickers in your core sparks in his. 

Voracious and brash. You bite down, sinking your teeth into his neck, igniting a wildfire. An untamable beast. Again and again and again. Biting, sucking, kissing. His skin tender and raw, your lips wet and swollen. You run a hand along the back of his neck, tugging into his hair, anchoring your grip, and pulling a husky groan from his throat. 

“What do you need?” Lucien repeats, this time with a sharper edge. He detaches you from the safety of the crook of his neck. His two hands. Unnecessarily large, warm, and steady brace either side of your jaw, his fingers wrapping behind your neck. He holds you in front of his face. Vulnerable. Messy. Heat radiates from your cheeks. You release a shaky breath. 

“Don’t make me say it.” It’s a whisper. Pleading and demanding at the same time. 

The cocky smirk that spreads on his face is sickening. It makes you want to slap him, to hear the crack of your palm against his cheek. It makes you want to surrender. Soft and pliable, ready to please and earn praise. It makes you want to scream. To bite him so hard you draw blood. To fuck him until he can’t talk. 

You tell him all of it. Exactly what you need, what you want, what you refuse to say. You tell him all through your kiss. The hunger in your lips as you press them to his, the violence on your tongue, the desperate and vulnerable need to be cared for in the soft moans that rise from your chest, from your heart, from the blood in your veins. He chases all of it. The punishment and pleasure. 

He backs you into the kitchen, caging you against the counter like a scene from a movie. Impervious to whatever protest you make as he clears space, blindly sweeping his arm over the counter before lifting you onto it. The edge of the counter digs into your soft thighs, but it doesn’t matter. You’re ready to drown in the vanilla musk and bourbon-spiced scent of him. The bass in his voice that makes your eyes fall shut and your head tip back against the cupboard behind you. The bruising pressure of his grip that he knows you crave. 

“Baby,” he croons. His words are soft and gentle. As if he propped you on the counter to tend to your wounds. But his hands show no mercy. Roughly ridding you of your clothes. Dropping them into a pile on the floor. He’s ruthless with you. In ways you can’t be with yourself. In ways other lovers could never master. Harsh without being cruel. Deliberate without a plan. 

He lets you tug his shirt over his head. Skin to skin the intensity is primal. “Fuck,” is all you can manage to say. The heat is overwhelming, prickling your nerves and sharpening every sensation. Lucien toys with you like it’s his favorite game. Alternating. 

First, palming reverently at the flesh, sweeping his tongue over your hard nipples, and teasing the wet skin with his hot breath. 

You let him make the decisions. Take the lead. You’re done arguing, done thinking, done with the guilt of letting him in the door, done with acting like you’re any better than him. You brace yourself, one palm flat on the counter, the other resting on his shoulder. Taking whatever he gives. 

He switches up. Everything becomes pointed and precise. He sucks marks into your skin on the underside of your breasts. He pinches and flicks the pert bud of your straining nipples. The contact of his fingers, tongue, and teeth sends white-hot jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. He bites down hard enough to make you choke on a moan. Your whine fills the room, twisted with pain and pleasure. 

“You poor thing,” he purrs. Your face is still wet from your tears. But now they’re tears of frustration. “Just a mess.” You reach for his belt, impatient, but he stops you. He’s not done looking. He lifts one of your legs, propping your foot onto the counter and posing you obscenely in front of him. His gaze makes your pussy throb.

He’s torn. 

Studying your face. Everything unsaid in your eyes. The anguish and rage. The acerbic disdain. The nearly imperceptible longing. 

Admiring your sex, spread open for him. Shining with your arousal. Swollen, slick lips so sensitive for him. Your core, fluttering with anticipation, achingly empty without him. 

He holds your chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. His eyes swirl with lust and something you can’t quite place. “You have no idea,” he rasps. “No idea how much it fucking kills me to see you like this. And knowing I’m the reason why.” 

You don’t know if he means it breaks his heart to see the way you suffer or if he means the sight of you dripping on the counter has him so hard it hurts. You don’t know which you’d believe anyway. He’s not hard up to find someone else to torment or to fuck. That thought makes your throat dry. 

“I can’t stay away from you,” he traces his fingers down your soft inner thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. “How could I?” You tip your head to the side, your limbs and head feel heavy, drunk on a cocktail of everything you love and hate about him all at once. 

“Then don’t.” 

Your reply makes him smile again. He’s so handsome when he smiles it’s infuriating. “You could scream at me, kick me out, hate me–but you still let me touch you, you need me to touch you. Why do I love that so much?” 

“You like feeling important.” You let your snarky comment out without thinking. His question was definitely rhetorical. A few emotions flicker across his face before, a dark little smirk curls the corner of his mouth. 

He feeds off of your challenge. “There she is.” 

“I never left,” you snap, frustration spilling over. He laughs, loose and easy. 

“Listen to me,” Lucien says, low and velvety. Subduing you with the tension and proximity. “I know. You want me to use you. Like you’re my toy. Until you can’t keep those beautiful eyes open.”

“Yes.” 

“I know.” He echoes. Then he closes the gap, kissing you with affection. Holding himself back, but you aren’t reserved. You’re greedy; you want it harder. He just said he’d ruin you, why is he being so gentle? He pulls back with something sincere in his eyes. A whimper falls from your lips, pouty and baffled. 

“Gonna fuck you like I’m trying to ruin you, baby.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Sometime soon, hopefully? You don’t snap again, answering with another yes. 

He leans in, breath fanning hot over your ear. “But, we both know that tonight you’re the one using me. Ruining me. I’m your toy.” 

Your breath hitches at that. You mouth I know in response, not even able to whisper it. He doesn’t need to hear you say it. He nips your ear lobe and you loose a surprised cry before gasping out his name. 

He’s swift now. Purposeful. Undoing his belt, shoving his pants down and revealing his cock. Reflexively your hips tense and shift. Just looking makes you salivate. He runs his thumb over the bead of precome, drawing it along his length. 

He knows how you want it. His fingers can coax you to an orgasm in no time, but you don’t want that. You want the resistance, the stretch, the dull ache, and intensity as your muscles work to let him in deeper. Nobody makes you feel the way he does. Full. Complete. Mindless. 

It could be pornographic, vulgar, raunchy. The way he pushes your inner thigh further open with one hand while he uses the other to languidly stroke himself. The way he grips himself so tightly like he’s punishing himself. The way his jaw hangs slack and he mutters under his breath about how badly you need him. 

To you, however, it’s a profound admission. A candid confession. The more he goads you the more it solidifies that he’s the one that needs you. That it flows so easily from him because he’s really talking about himself. 

“You say you don’t care anymore, but look at you now, baby.” He shifts closer, at counter height you’re aligned perfectly. He glides the head of his cock up and down the folds of your soaked cunt. You shudder and moan, mesmerized by the sight. 

“It’s almost sad how much you need me, like you can’t breathe without this,” he keeps talking. 

He demands that you watch, as if there was a chance you could stop, as he lines up and sinks into you. You groan in unison. You’re so tight, he draws back out. Repeating the same motion, feeding his cock into you deeper and deeper each time. Your hot, plush walls pulse around him, adjusting. When he finally meets the end of you, he hums, pleased. “You feel that?” 

You bob your head, nodding, agreeing. “Yes.” Your voice is breathy. “Perfect.” You grind against him as if you could take him any deeper, begging him to move with your needy display. It’s wholly overwhelming as is, every nerve within you alight as his cock kicks within you, tensing with the same craving to move. 

He takes your hand in his, nestling your fingers around him. Somehow he feels even larger than he looks, like he shouldn’t be able to fit inside of you, but here you are feeling it and seeing it for yourself. Slowly, Lucien tilts his hips, almost pulling out of you completely before plunging in with force. He keeps up the tantalizing pace, guiding you to touch yourself. He watches your fingers with rapt attention, bracing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he drives into you with another snap of his hips that edges you closer. 

He gradually speeds up, a master at tempering his desire. Your hip flexor aches as you hold yourself in place but it doesn’t matter. You find your rhythm as he holds steady at a pace that has him landing brutal thrusts that force the words out of your lungs. Soft oh’s and fuck’s pour out of you, under your breath, adding fuel to the fire blazing between you. 

Lucien savors your chanting and the image of you fixed in place, taking him eagerly. Your fingers move with urgency, chasing the release that looms closer and closer. Your mind is blissfully blank, reduced to something animalistic, removed from the burden of your history. “Don’t stop,” you plead, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop. He fucks you at the same pace, all the way through it. As you contract around him, when everything pulls taut and snaps within you, crying out his name, when it’s too sensitive and you whip your hand away, and as you shudder and breathe deeper and deeper. As the ache in your legs from being spread wide open returns and your ass feels numb where the edge of the counter digs into your flesh. Another tear spills from the corner of your eye, but you can’t say what it’s from anymore. 

When you fidget, he stops moving, letting you readjust. A sheen of sweat glistens all over your chest and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how loud the slick noises between you are. How easy it is to get lost in Lucien's hot and heavy magnetism. You know you were falling apart before he propped you up on the counter, but you’re sure you’re a complete wreck now. 

Lucien pulls out but then leans against you, pinning the length of his cock between you, hot, slick, and messy against your sweat-damp skin. He floods your senses, all you can see, hear, and smell. Caging you in his hand find a possessive hold on you, one wrapped around the back of your neck, one wrapped tight around your thigh as you hitch it around his hip. 

“You feel good?” he asks. You hum in agreement. You do feel good. You know he’s not done yet, and smile wide, still hungry for more. “How good?” he asks and you know there’s something coming next. 

“So good.” You trail a hand between you, drawing a line down his chest and back up to cradle his cheek in your palm. Something about the prickle of his facial hair along your palm feels so natural, domestic, and sweet. You’re tempted to kiss his cheek, nuzzle against his ear, and ask him to take you to bed. But you can’t. You’ll never have that. Instead, you bait him. “I think you’re holding back though, I know you can fuck me harder than that.” 

He scoffs, unamused, blowing a hot puff of air between you. His fingers dig deeper into your thigh, applying the kind of pressure that stirs arousal low in your belly. 

The dark glint in his eye gives you butterflies. “I will, Baby,” his rumbling voice is innately sensual, but the condescension in his tone makes you tingly. You’re so close to him that you can feel his heart beating in his chest, you can feel the same pulse thrumming in his cock, still flush against you as he slants his lower half along yours. He’s all things heavy and firm, strong and sculpted, yet fitting so naturally against you. You need more, wriggling and squirming against him, you can’t contain the restlessness. 

“You know,” he says slowly, drawing your eyes back to his. “You can keep trying to move on, but no one else will ever know you like this. No one else will ever ruin you the way I do. You can tell me you don’t care anymore, but you’ll never let anyone else in the way you let me. They won’t touch that part of you, the one that’s mine—because it’ll always be mine.” 

It trickles through you slowly until your blood feels like it’s boiling. They’re tears of anger now. It’s like a sick double entendre. 

“I know,” your words are steeped in every emotion cascading through you. 

You don’t know if it’s worse that he’s right. That there’s a Lucien-shaped mark imprinted on your heart that will never fade. Or if it’s worse that he doesn’t even know it applies to him just the same. That he always comes back because he’s trying to fill the same void. 

Maybe he does know. Maybe he does know and this is all he can do to make it up to you. 

Maybe that’s why he leads you to your bedroom and lives up to his word. 

Why he fucks you so hard you see stars. Why he doesn’t stop even after he comes deep inside of you with a possessive always gonna be mine. Why he litters your skin with more false promises and confessions. Why he gives you so many orgasms you lose track. 

Maybe that’s why he’s still there when the sun starts to peek through your window. Why he fucks you slowly when you’re too tender and exhausted to take him any harder until you’re floating in limbo between a dream and reality. Why he stays there, just cradling your back into his chest and listening to the rhythm of your breath. 

Maybe he does know. 

PLEASE COME YELL WITH ME ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL GUY BC I NEED HIM IN A SUPER NORMAL WAY or tell me if my writing was incoherent or if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

tags for the babes that let me annoy them with my thots <3

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin

[the--journeys]

Talk Shop Tuesday: as someone relatively “new” to the fandom, tell us more of what you thought you’d find vs. what you did (aka more thots on the tags of the woobified peter post)

hooooooo boyyyyyy.

Peter Parker has always been my Boy. As someone who read the comics first, to find out that most comics purists hated MCU spidey was so surprising to me, because while there are Many problems with the MCU adaptation of Spider-Man (many of them revolving around Tony Stark, yes) I still think that MCU Peter has the Essence?

MCU Peter dies and walks it off. Gets a building dropped on him and walks it off. Almost gets shot point-blank and walks it off??? To log into tumblr.com for the first time in many, many years and see MCU spidey largely regarded as some uwu, noob of a character was cognitive dissonance.

Until. I read a few fics! And suddenly it all made sense.

I still don't trust comics fans who hate MCU Peter for uwu reasons simply because that isn't Him, and that can be true while also being annoyed at the way fannish works have bred this misconception of who MCU Peter is.

Writing MCU Peter into a world where he calls Tony Stark "dad" or calls the other Avengers to come save him at the drop of a hat is not illegal. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and interpretations of media, but I PERSONALLY believe it's a disservice to Peter Parker's character to file down his nails and teeth because doing so erases not only his competence and tenacity but also! His flaws!

Most (I'm sure there are exceptions but I'm yet to see them) of these worlds created to showcase MCU Peter Parker as a soft li'l bean do not allow Peter to keep his ego, selfishness, or even his optimism? He is a "perfect" little child, a kid with a boatload of trauma but whose coping mechanisms have been changed from kicking the shit out of criminals to??? cuddling?? on the couch??

It does not make sense. To me. In MY mind palace. Peter Parker is a fascinating character (and has been since his conception decades ago) in large part BECAUSE of his flaws. To take them away leaves a character who is boring, flat, and also... Not Peter Parker lmao.

And on TOP of this, to have hate directed at MCU Peter not because of how he's actually portrayed but because of how fandom has massacred him and to see how that hate gets translated into cries that the MCU has "ruined spider-man," or is "the worst spider-man adaptation" when it's the only Spider-Man adaptation to feature POC in really any sense, and especially as Peter's friends/love interests/supporting characters? side EYE.

I love me some media critique! I am a believer that Disney made so many Wrong choices with the MCU, with Spider-Man in particular. But so much MCU Spider-Man critique is actually fandom critique without being labeled as such, and it has an effect on attitudes regarding characters who are portrayed by POC. MCU Spider-Man doesn't do right by its POC lmao, but fandom's psdeudo-straw man hatred of MCU Spidey Isn't Helping.

All this to say, I avoid teen!Peter now in fics now unless I recognize/trust the author, and MCU critique is only as good as the author's understanding of the actual MCU versus fandom's portrayal of it.

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 02/11/2024

Nerdie! It's the middle of the month, how are you?

Good. Nothing to complain about. Mainly relaxed and then worked Thursday and Friday. My orientee made me laugh.

Oh? How so?

She said that now that she's had some different preceptors she enjoys my balances of being a bit hands off since I know she's experienced, but still checking in during the shift to see how things are going. (Puffs out chest and also wonders if that's a good or bad thing.)

I mean, if she said it's fine, it should be fine right? Now did you do anything writing this week?

I did a bit. Not as much as I normally do. I'm gearing up for projects I have either agreed to or planned for myself.

My two fics are quite different. One was silly and sweet and the other was filth. Nerdie in a nutshell really:

Is it for the wallet of the shoebox? (Tim Rockford x plus size female reader) Tim being silly in a bookstore leads to a serious conversation and a partial photoshoot at home. Comedy and domestic fluff with slight spice.

One Pass for the both of Us (Lucian Flores x female reader x Benny Miller) You and your boyfriend Lucian have the same hall pass. All smut with sweatpants and gold chains.

Working on two things I promised people. One requested fluff and the other action and smut.

I decided to start a new series (because clearly I don't have enough - Dieter, Frankie and Tim give Nerdie a death glare) 👀 because this Pedro character was in my WIPs way before the three of you! Might even help me brainstorm…

Two Hearts by the Ocean will feature Javier Gutierrez x Abigail (plus size OFC). The vibe is sweet summer romance. Mainly fluff every Wednesday, not sure how many parts, at least five. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for it. I have a few people in mind but if you'd like to be added, let me know. 😆

Roc & Doc and Weddings 101 with Dieter are still ongoing, no worries. Tim and Dieter have calmed. Frankie is a bit pissed still but you have the longest masterlist Fish! You don’t care…well. Okay. 🫡

I might be trying to figure out how to write Ezra. I love reading fics with the man, but his speech patterns have so many nuances to it. I've been studying @morallyinept aka Jett's Pedro Pascal Character Database that she's been compiling and her entry on Ezra from Prospect has been invaluable. It's an excellent reference for Pedro character fic writers or if you just wanna know more. She also has one specifically on Ezra’s speech patterns that I swear I’ve read at least four times.

It's me, I'm the problem. 😭 I’m either overthinking or not focusing on the right parts. Ugh…

Fics I read this week: ( I took time off work and had plenty of time to read - still didn't get to everything. 🥸)

Movie Night by @munsonownsmyass (Zach Ellison x reader)

No game at all (but I can do this) by @for-a-longlongtime (Marcus Pike x Tim Rockford - Frankie Morales floating in thots)

Wouldn't It Be Nice - Chapter one by @lady-pug (Agent Whiskey x female reader)

02 x birds - Frankie Morales x reader by @trulybetty

Mon Amour by @saturn-rings-writes (Jake Lockley x black female reader)

The Stars by @youvebeenlivingfictional (Poe Dameron x reader)

Mutual by @morallyinept (Ezra x female reader)

Dinner Party by @lavendertales (Steven Grant x fem reader)

The Mercenary and the Whore by @absurdthirst and @storiesofthefandomlovers

Comedy of Errors (MK Spring Bingo #3) by @soft-girl-musings (Steven Grant x GN reader)

03 x snowfall - Marcus Pike x reader by @trulybetty

Ambrosial by @spacecowboyhotch (Din Djarin x fem. black reader)

Half of you - part 1 and part 2 by @foxilayde (Santiago Garcia x female reader)

God Speed by @magpiepills (Tim Rockford x female reader)

Not for nothing @magpiepills (Ezra x female reader)

Perfect Fit by @lowlights (Frankie Morales x plus size reader)

To the Flame - chapter 5 by @pedroshotwifey (Dark Javier Peña x female reader)

Come back to me by @reallyrallyauthor (Poe Dameron x female reader)

If you’re not looking at @immarocketman ‘s art, then I feel sad for you. It’s beautiful 🤗 They put out a sketch of Din/Cobb this week that’s apparently going to have a fanfic written about it by @theywhowriteandknowthings

There was also an excellent head cannon about Sarah’s younger years by @clickergossip that resonated with me on Black girlhood. ☺️

That's about it until next week! 🥰

Stay hydrated and safe!

Love Nerdie 💜

[littlemissmanga]

LittleMissManga Fic Masterlist

My entire blog is 18+ so minors begone! The asterisk (*) denotes explicit 18+ material. Please read responsibly. If it isn't for you, I got plenty of SFW content.

So far, I've only written for Star Wars, the clones in particular, including Rex and various 501st members, The Bad Batch members, Hound, Wolffe, Cody and Boba Fett.

Requests are closed!

I'm taking a small step back so I can recharge. I'll still be lurking and hopefully working a bit on WIPs, just without the self-imposed pressure to get them done quickly. If you've sent anything in, know that I am working on it! This includes all the First Kiss Prompts.

NSFW requests are OK and welcome, but please no gore, major character death, romantic/mature relationships between padawans and adults, or clonecest.

If you'd like to be tagged in future fics, you can join my taglist :)

Random Clone Shenanigans

Clone of the Month Calendar

Tooka Interviews

Dad jokes/puns

Threesome Choice* (Rex, Jesse, Wrecker, Crosshair)

TBB Meets Sailor Moon Crack

How the 501st & BB Boys Handle a Reader with Chronic Pain

Hound

Hound Thots (SFW above, NSFW under the cut)

Broadside

Maybe Among the Stars

Rex

One Last Order Part 1, Part 2* (only part 2 is spicy).

Did He Hurt You?

Date Night Pt 1

A Little Something Sweet for Breakfast

Jesse

Kiss Prompt

"Just Lay Back and Let Me Take Care of You"*

Why Is There Rope Next to the Bed?*

Hardcase

"I'm Trying to Be Sexy and You're Laughing!" (SFW but alludes to intimacy)

Fives

"Seems Like Someone Likes Being Praised"*

Dogma

Date Night Pt 3

Date Night Pt 4

Echo

The Promise In Your Eyes

Why Echo is the best smelling clone trooper (HC)

"Seems Like Someone Likes Being Praised"*

A Teasing Echo*

Bittersweet (HC)

Spicy Echo Thot*

Wedding Speech

Tell Me*

Crosshair

Don't Forget That, Okay?

"He Was Staring At Your Ass ... And That Ass Is Mine." (SFW, but implied impact play).

Song of the Caged Bird (1/3)

Song of the Caged Bird (2/3) TK

Song of the Caged Bird (3/3) TK

What Are You Wearing?

Tech

Spicy Tech Thot - Cerebral Stimulation*

Why Now? - TK

A Mechanic in the Sun

Tech & Non-Verbal Reader

"That's the Most Attractive Thing I've Seen in My Life"*

"Looks Like Someone Likes Being Praised"*

A Little Awkward Never Killed Nobody

Home for the Holidays With You

Wrecker

A Man What Takes His Time*

"Are You Wearing My Shirt?"*

Wrecker Headcanon Asks* (SFW above the cut, NSFW under)

Wrecker Spa Day HCs

Spicy Games Thots*

Rainy Day Comforts

When Wrecker Gets Comfortable Thot (Not spicy, but there's definitely heat)

The Slow Stretch*

Hunter

"That Is the Most Attractive Thing I've Seen in My Life"

Cody

Date Night Pt 2*

Boil

The Once and Future Brother

Wolffe

Wolffe Thots* (SFW above the read more, NSFW under the read more)

"Just Lay Back and Let Me Take Care of You"*

Boba Fett

The Daimyo's Princess

My OCs (Star Wars)

Yen Ori'ken (You can read more about her in Date Night)

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Yen x Wolffe/Yen x Kix hcs

Yen x Cody hcs

Yen x Echo hcs

Yen x Wrecker hcs

CT-2460, Clone Pilot Corkscrew, AKA Cor

Intro & SFW Alphabet

(I don't know why this last link isn't working so I'm putting it here, too)

[duplicitywrites]

Thank you so much for replying to my other ask! I completely understand not wanting to revisit a fic you had wrote when you weren't doing the best, and I hope you're feeling better now! 🩷 I adore 'evermore' so much even though it's quite depressing aha 🥲 The way you wrote Harry's mental health and escapism was so good and Id love to hear some spoilers if you were up to it 😅

One thing I love about fanfic is the freedom of it all, and like you said "What is fanfic if not an ode to writing that felt unfinished?". Your interpretation of Harry as an abused child at his core in works like "damaged" always get to me. It always felt weird in the HP book series that Harry had such an awful childhood and was as well adjusted and happy in the future.

Another one of your works I was really interested in is 'perfect boys with their perfect lives', the Harry/Cedric aka a certain dark lord one. It really had me thinking about what could have happened in the graveyard if Harry hadn't escaped 🫣

i am, thanks! it was around covid, which was an awful time for everyone i'm sure, with weird life stuff piled on top of it.

i was going to answer all of the ones you mentioned, but evermore is actually one of few stories i have planned out in detail. this is why it has a planned chapter count (though that hasn't stopped me from going overboard before lol).

i guess i'll just give you the whole thing in case i never finish it kljsdgkljdgs it's pretty long, so under a cut it goes! but first some context for everyone else:

🍃 Evermore

Tags: Alternate Universe, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulative Relationship, Infidelity, Past Child Abuse, Dream Sequences, Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Plot Twists, Happy Ending, Surprise Ending, Healing

Summary:

Harry is a married man who is living a charmed life. He has no need for the fantasy potions gifted to him by the Weasley twins—or so he thinks. After falling asleep on the train ride home, Harry dreams of the perfect man, a man named Tom Riddle. As Harry explores his dream life with Tom, he realizes that his actual life is not as charmed as it seems. The pristine image of his faultless marriage shatters, revealing a darker reality, and Tom Riddle becomes an oasis, a sanctuary for Harry to escape to. However, no sanctuary is eternal and no oasis is truly perfect. Harry must eventually confront his demons, inner and outer, before he can find real happiness for himself.

Notes:

these notes are arranged in order from where the most recently posted chapter left off.

there are probably some divergent points that occurred during the actual writing process, but this plan below (i'll admit i'm not quite brave enough to reread it all) is what the general storyline will be.

-

reality four - right where you left me

maybe harry's been harbouring fears of his potions being found? :thots: or his husband's made note of his changes in behaviour, accuses him of not spending time/being devoted

they get into an argument where harry gets a looooot of shit for stuff he doesn't deserve to get shit for, stuff that's not even true

harry yells back but gets hit, idk if by magic or not :thots: and he backs down, distraught. then once he's alone, he goes straight for the dream world

dream four - no body no crime

it'll be a much shorter version obviously, and the character roster won't be the same

i hadn't nailed down the specifics of the background and so i'm not sure how it'll look, exactly

harry is NOT married in this dream, he knows dream-husband but they are only friends

dream-husband is ginny's role in this particular iteration

but the climax of this scene is where harry is snooping around in the house, where he happens upon the dream-husband's diary

he's been looking for evidence to prove the murder

harry reads through the diary

and in the diary are tragic entries describing depressive thoughts, details of emotional (maybe even physical) abuse, etc.

this is a pivotal moment for harry, who up until this moment has been in denial about the failings of his real life marriage

reading this in the framing of it happening to someone else is enough for him to realize that it's wrong

what happens to him is not okay

but of course it's not that easy to just, shrug off years of marriage all at once; harry once again exits the dream, thus ending that particular dream universe

he's partly in denial but it's not as bad as before

he's been using the dreams as a coping mechanism up until this point

i've made it sound kind of frustrating but the dream worlds that harry goes to are meant to be very lush, romanticized

while we realize that harry's dream worlds are not ideal, he doesn't realize it right away

he thinks he's still doing something wrong

reality five - coney island

uh so next is probably another real life scene which shows tension between harry and his husband, only harry is no longer acting the way he did before aka accepting things without question

after the dream, harry starts to... notice things. he picks up on the slights, on the manipulative behaviours. he doesn't argue back for most of it, because he's still figuring it out and he's in shock, but he does start acting differently, which is noted by his husband

it escalates things further, a landslide of 'harry is no longer listening to me, is no longer under my control' type of deal where it results in more attempts to manipulate, which harry now sees is bad

voldemort grew addicted to power, made deals with politicians, gained a following

he looks back on past events and picks out the red flags, realizes that his marriage is not a marriage of equals. but just because harry knows these things, doesn't mean he knows what to do. he goes back to the dream world for comfort/answers

dream five - cowboy like me

this one is 'cowboy like me'

harry is there with his husband staying at a hotel, they happen across dream-husband, who is a con artist attempting to swindle an older woman

either harry is also a con artist in a similar vein, or he is mistaken for one - i'll probably decide once it's written out and i get a sense of the vibe

but he and dream-husband have some interesting conversations, flirting, etc

the theme of this dream i think will be further strengthening the similarities between harry and the dream-husband he's made up in his head

this dream ends with a bittersweet farewell

something along the lines of, despite their attraction for each other, they must part ways? :thots: or some other thing

but there will be a bit of a cheeky 'see you soon'

aka referencing the fact that it's a dream/dream world, that the dream-husband is a recurring character in harry's mental space

reality six - happiness

harry's down to two vials now, the bittersweet farewell of dream five has him realizing that time is running out in the metaphorical sense; we understand that soon he will need to make a choice

i might loop back to infidelity at this point, maybe in an attempt to bring harry to heel, his husband starts flaunting an affair? :thots: cause in the past, flirting with other people probably worked to make harry upset and easily manipulated

but y'know now harry is armed with his brand new knowledge of Marriage Should Not Be Like This and also he's got some shiny self-worth stored up, courtesy of dream-husband

dream six - ivy

in this dream world, harry is married to his current husband, but he is having an affair with the dream-husband; not in the sexual sense, but in the emotional sense. drawing on the dream five, harry is seeking comfort and solace from his bad marriage

this dream is meant to remove more of harry's doubts and encourage him to see that his current situation is bad

and i imagine we start to break through the fourth wall; dream-husband speaks directly to harry, referencing real life events that have occurred

he encourages harry to leave

harry is doubtful, obviously. this is all he's known and he's been gaslighted, manipulated, mistreated

he's terrified he will be found out and punished for it

but the dream-husband reassures him, promises him that things will be okay, etc.

he makes harry promise to take care of himself

and i'm thinking in true romantic sense, maybe they spend the night together? :thots:

reality seven - closure

we solidify that harry deserves better, that what has happened is not his fault, etc all the important, healthy things

we have harry reaching out to the people that have been slowly pushed out of his life (mostly by his husband). he’s reconnecting with them, being healthier, i think this section would end with harry going to ron and hermione and telling them the truth, telling them everything

harry is down to his last vial, so he's been saving it

like, he could obviously go and get more, they would give it to him for free, even, but you know it's kind of like

he shouldn't have to rely on that as a coping mechanism any more

dream seven - evermore

i'm thinking harry goes for one last dream, they sit together outside(?) or somewhere else that has significance for harry

they hold hands, harry talks about how much the support has meant to him, what he's learned about himself, what these dreams have taught him

sometimes things don't work out

he knows he needs to walk out and move on

i'll probably cry writing all this so you know it'll be good

the end - it’s time to go

then like i mentioned before, there will be a scene of harry signing divorce papers. his friends are with him, telling them they support him, and he feels... relief. he feels hope.

the story ends with harry attending a party, this time by his own decision. he's here to genuinely mingle with people, with his friends, and have a good time

and then he sees someone

much like the previous dream, it's someone who he once knew

they talk, they catch up, but this time it doesn't feel odd or uncomfortable

harry feels secure with himself, and we end on the hopeful note that this could go somewhere good

[ghoulphile]

I want to start off by saying that your fics aren’t just the best Cooper fics I’ve read but some of the best writing I have ever read! 🩷 perioddddd. Secondly, if you’re still taking requests, could I send one in? If so: how do you think our ghoul would handle having a breeding kink? Do you think he’d get devious with it? Threatening to pump the reader full, or is it more romanticised? If that’s even possible with him…. 😳

thank you so much for reading - and for your support ❤️!! i'm so happy you enjoy my writing. as for requests... they are open 😉

imo while nothing could replace janey, he's been searching for ages and it gets lonely in the wasteland, doesn't it? he's still quasi-human, and needs to indulge in physical comforts every once in a while.

and maybe - juuuuust maybe - he can fill that void, soothe the ache even if it's only a little bit. besides, janey always wanted a sibling.

(aka i full on think he'd threaten to pump the reader full and i have many thots now tyyy 😈)

[mothergold]

happy new years friends and followers! i remember doing one of these when i first joined fanfic tumblr and i’m feeling nostalgic so i thought i’d make one since it’s been awhile and i have some (positive) things to say!!

okay here goes!! putting everything under a readmore to not clog the dash <3

@tighnarly — hi baby. my princess, cupcake, gum drop, bunny baby <3 i’m so happy and grateful to have you as my future wife and i can’t wait for the day we get married. i know i mostly post about my fictional fav (albedo :p) but you’re truly all i want and need 🫶🏻 everytime i write a fanfic i’m thinking of you and me. every word i write is a love letter to you from me. i know i’m not the best with words but i hope one day you’ll be able to see you the way i see you. trust me when i say you are the most beautiful and kind human i have ever met in my life, and i’m gonna personally fight everyone and anyone who hurts you 😗 anywaysss hehe i love you sunshine 💖🫶🏻

@neuvillettes — bestieeeeeee my bestie from the westie 🫶🏻 i’m so glad we met and connected online bc now we legit our roommates and it’s so fun 😭🤚🏻 like i legit dont know how to tell you how much our friendship means to me. ur fr that one person that just GETS me. you’re so kind and funny and fun to be around, but i also love that ur not afraid to be honest with me, especially when i need that tough love approach. i love you oh so much bestie 💖 oh and thank you for the art tablet i literally am still screaming over it hehe.

@suyacho — my beloved bestie 🫶🏻 there is no one i love rambling about my selfship thots about more than you. i love how i can talk to you about anything and everything 🥹🫶🏻 i especially love how patient and supportive you’ve been of me this year, because it meant the entire world to me. i’m so glad we’re besties and i can’t wait for the day i meet you irl 🫶🏻💖mwah ily bestie hehe me, kaeya, and albedo are smoochin u rn 💖 (platonic)

@auphelia — mootie sweet sweet mootie. it always makes me happy seeing you on the dash, and i especially smile whenever i see u in my tags whether it’s a fic or just a regular old post. i get so giddy whenever i talk to u bc u are fr one cool pal!! i’m so glad we’re mooties! and i have to say i can’t wait to see what more you write because you are very talented 💖

@fleur-de-leap — leap!! i know i am very sporadic with my messages but i legit get so happy to interact with you and even more so when i see/read ur art/writing! you’re so fucking talented in so many ways and every day it truly impresses me! when we made the server together that day it made me SO happy and i get so happy seeing i get messages from you 💖 thank you for being my friend through all these years, truly it’s been a blessing.

@shig-a-shig-ah — bestie!!!!! my BESTIEEEE 🥹🫶🏻 i hope u know u mean the entire world to me. i can’t believe we’ve been friends since the beginning of my writing journey, it’s wild! istg ONE DAY BESTIE, ONE DAY we will meet and it will be the best day ever 🥹🫶🏻 ily bestie mwah

@blkladyelle — elle!! my beloved!! it’s so nice whenever i see you on the dash, and i’m always especially happy whenever i get a dm from you! i hope you feel loved and happy this upcoming year and that it holds so much positivity for you. because fuck i need you to have a good year!!! i love you sm and wanted to let you know my dm’s are always open for you 🫶🏻💖

@nc-vb — mootie aka my fellow albedo lover i get so happy whenever i see u interact with me, and i want you to know i’m always rooting for you! you’re writing is so good and honestly you’ve been such a joy to talk to in dm’s, and you’re so easy to talk to. i hope this year good things happen to you, because you truly deserve the world bub 🫶🏻

@4izawas — bestie cas!! i know we just became mutuals but u are legit one of the coolest people on this app! ur writing is fucking god tier and you are legit one of the funniest fuckers i know 😭💖 can’t count the amount of times u’ve made me giggle from something u said 🤭 i’m manifesting that aizawa confesses his love to u this year!!! 💖

if you’re not listed here it’s purely either because i forgot or we didn’t talk too much this year. so, please don’t take it personally if i didn’t include you!! i love all me mooties 🫶🏻💖