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deadhumourist · 19 days

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Thank you lovely! Im so glad you find him appealing, I always felt that there was more to him than just the yeehonk cheesefest.

Thanks for reading and boosting xxx

Under Marula Trees - Chapter 5

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

A/N: After being away from Tumblr for some time, I humbly yeet this on there -the chapters have been sitting in my documents for months. Thank you to my amazing @just-here-for-the-moment for the feedback and encouragement <3

A special thank you to my lovely @sirowsky who this chapter is dedicated to, who helped me iron out some horse nuances. Julia, in this chapter, is inspired by her.

Explanation: Boma is an enclosure or fenced off area - the word is Swahili and used in different parts of Africa.

Warnings: This is a 18+ series only! Jack needs his own warning. Daydreams with unrealistic physics (you just gotta go with me here), mentions of alcohol, sexual activity. Curse words. Reader is a blank slate, POC-friendly.

Series Masterlist | Taglist sign-up

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Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, painting your face with bright streaks of light like some ethereal warrior in slumber.

As your slowly awoke, you didn’t feel as noble, finally stretching your limbs to rid them of the last vestiges of sleep lingering in your muscles. Your calves and thighs protested; they still needed some rest after bolting home in the night. At the time you barely felt the muscles in your legs strain because the beating one in your chest hurt so much.

For one blissful moment, the feather-softness of the duvet and the mild, warm weather was comforting. Once you were awake however, the previous night crystallised in your mind, bit by bit.

With a hoarse groan you buried your face in the pillow, wondering whether suffocating yourself now would mean you didn’t need to ever see the Statesman group again. You felt like you’d made a complete idiot of yourself in front of them. Tequila’s silly game, Ginger’s cheeky taunt forcing Jack into a corner. You had overplayed your hand and got caught holding nothing - a fool’s bluff and an embarrassment.

You had practically preened when he cupped your face, enjoying something that wasn’t yours to have. You needed to remember that. Don’t get close - stay in your lane until they leave, you chastised yourself. Whatever little piece of your heart they’d take with them you could deal with it then. For now, you had to keep it together and wear your client service veneer.

You rolled out of bed, stiffly making your way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. You thanked your lucky stars that you had a later start. The longer you were alone, the more you could recharge. Avoid facing your group; hopefully try to scrub the worst scuff marks of the memory from your mind. You grabbed your tablet and cup and flopped back into bed.

Pulling up the itinerary, you made quick work of going over the details of the next two days’ activities. Today was a horse-riding trail and picnic so you were going to be with them for most of the day. The only upside to this, you mused, was that you’d all be on horses and you could avoid Jack for the most part. Of course, you’d have to talk to him during the picnic, but no silver lining was perfect.

Placing the cup on your bedside table, you savoured the smell of the warm brew and relaxed back into the huge continental pillow that you’d scooped up off the floor. The pillowy embrace made your eyes slowly slip closed.

Unbidden, the image of Jack’s plush lips so close to yours flashed in the darkness behind your eyelids. The way his eyes widened as you fought out of his grip to put distance between you as quickly as possible.

You couldn’t understand where this ache was coming from. Jack was not the first man to reject you and wouldn’t be the last. But he was the most ridiculous one, you spitefully thought to yourself.

He might also be the most infuriating.

And the most beautiful, your stupid heart added.

Those brown eyes. The soft cupid’s bow, the crease in the full bottom lip. His profile. With your eyes closed you were pleasantly surprised at how many visual memories of him you had stored away.

You laid back and let your mind wander, the earlier vision of him in the pool flooding your mind with delicious visuals again. You imagined Jack lifting himself out of the pool in slow motion, rivulets of saltwater streaming down his broad shoulders and back, down to the tapered waist, hugged by tight black swimming trunks. Imaginary Jack positioned himself onto the lip of the pool, bringing his arms up to slick back the water from his dark hair. Even in your own imagination, you were rooted to the spot near the Statesman table, just taking him in.

Imaginary Jack regarded you for a moment, then beckoned you closer with a subtle move of his head, his eyes flicking to the space in front of him, then back to you.

In the usual absurdity of dreams, you started slowly undressing to join him. You shimmied your work jumpsuit over your hips and tugged your underwear down along with it. Looking back at Imaginary Jack, his eyes were fixed on you, not letting up for even a moment. When your hands unclasped your bra and your nipples pebbled in the fresh air, the smirk on his face said he liked what he saw very, very much. Like a goddess descending into a liquid underworld you slowly walked into the shallow end of the pool, the water rippling against your body, sending little shivers up your skin.

When it became too deep, you spread your arms in front of you and swam to right in front of Imaginary Jack, who was sitting at the other shallow end. Reaching him, you stood up, framed by his knees - he widened them for you, a wordless invitation to get close. You looked up at him expectantly, the bright sunlight coasting off the highest points of his handsome features.

He leaned forward and cupped your face with both hands. Your mind resurfaced those ghost sensations of his warm hands from the previous night. He claimed your mouth hungrily, not wasting time with chaste kisses when he wanted you like this. You revelled in this novel idea that Jack might want you, even if it was conjured up by your own imagination.

As he pulled you into him, you leaned over, your breasts flush with his stomach. Against your sternum you felt him harden even more as lips and tongue meted out a need for each other.

You broke the kiss, running your hands down to his waist and worked your fingers underneath the band of his trunks. Inching them down, Imaginary Jack lifted himself briefly to aid their journey down to his ankles.

You tossed the wet scrap of material out of the pool roguishly, a naughty little smile on your lips.

Imaginary Jack made Real You wet. A soft whimper escaped your lips as the image of Jack burnt bright in your mind’s eye - naked as the day he was born, perched on the edge of a gorgeous saltwater pool. His hard cock proudly jutted out in front of him, a sexy smirk played on his plush lips, because he knew what would happen next. Of course he did. Because he was a fucking figment of your imagination, you chastised yourself.

Your palm curled around his heft and you winked at him before your head dipped down.

“This is mine, cowboy.”

As your lips wrapped around the head, you could feel Imaginary Jack’s clever fingers slide over your breasts, cupping and moulding them as he got carried away with the sensation.

At the visceral imaginary vision of a naked Jack, you worked your sleep shorts down and hurriedly slid your fingers through your slick folds, feverishly working your sensitive bud as the fantasy played out behind your eyelids. You were enjoying this little break from reality; anything was possible.

Imaginary Jack growled at you, then reached over and pulled you out of the water roughly by your arms. He sat you on top of his thighs, folding your legs around him. Despite only being perched on Jack’s thighs, it felt like he surrounded you. You felt his large hand slide over your back and slide you closer to him and you leaned into the expanse of his chest like you belonged there.

He reached between the two of you, fingers running over your slit and feeling how ready you were for him, lifted you up easily, sinking you down again on his hard length. Taking him down to the root, it felt like he was splitting you open - a delicious stretch that made you moan out loud.

Jack captured your mouth, swallowing your moans while moving you up and down on his hard cock. Pulling away, you challenged him breathlessly. “Fuck me like you mean it, cowboy.”

Jack’s eyebrows lifted in the amused way you had seen so many times since his arrival, and slid his hands up to your shoulders, cupping them with the heel of his hand resting on your shoulder blades.

“Anythin’ you want, Sugar.”

He gripped your shoulders and pulled you down harshly, punching deep inside you. After a few hard thrusts like this, his hands slid down to your hips hungrily. He angled himself so that the coarse hair and heated skin at the base of him rubbed deliciously at your clit with each upstroke. The pressure and pace reached a fever pitch and you came hard around him. “Jack!” you wailed, scrabbling to hold on to him.

That broke the spell, and you opened your eyes again, chest heaving from exertion.

You hoped you would magically develop amnesia soon.

After breakfast you started making your way to the stables. This was one of the many perks of the job that you partook in as often as you could. The large building comfortably housed 12 horses, and was stylish in its bare-bones approach. Natural stones and concrete made up the outer barn, and framed a large entrance in a way that made the large thatch-roofed structure look welcoming.

This was the domain of Julia, a veritable horse-whisperer that could perform miracles with animals who were largely still a mystery to you. She had come down from the northern lands to live on the resort, like you, and spent her time training the horses, taking care of them and supervising guest rides. What Julia didn’t know about horses wasn’t worth knowing.

Sometimes the two of you just hung out - you were two of the few women around, the often harsh and demanding nature of the jobs out on the resort more to the taste of guys with an appetite for adventure and outdoors. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t have to stay on your toes physically, as Julia liked to remind you when you saw her heading off to the resort gym like clockwork. It always ended up in you blowing her a raspberry and her laughing as she walked off.

As you became closer, she had tried to introduce you to some horses. Julia talked at length about their personalities and how they liked to be handled. You were amazed at the level of detail in which she observed them and how she could weave it together to form such a character study. You had found them a little intimidating at first but her efforts were not wasted. You warmed to them and it shamed you to say you even had a few favourites now.

Ysa was an English Thoroughbred, the most docile creature in the stable. She would often nuzzle your hand when you fed her a snack and you couldn’t help running your hand over her soft muzzle and scritch her forehead. She was sweetness incarnate and you often whispered to her that she was your angel baby when Julia wasn’t nearby.

Hank, an American quarter horse, was naughty as they come. Prone to tricks, and running off in a random direction at the drop of a hat, he tended to work best with riders who knew their way around horses.

Then there was a horse that you had a soft spot for but never dared approach. Duchess was a loner and a difficult one at that. The proud Oldenburger strode through the yard like she owned it, her glossy chestnut coat shining in the mid-morning sun. She seemed to keep humans at arm’s length, even though she got along well with her stable mates. It took Julia weeks to earn enough of Duchess’ trust to let her close.

The woman in question was brushing Hank when you walked in a little early for your appointment with the group.

“Hey Jules, how are you and the ponies today?”

She blew a dark blonde lock of hair out of her face and turned to you with a sardonic smile, ready to chastise you for daring to call them ponies.

“Good, everyone seems to be in fine spirits. I see we have a group of three coming in today. Anything I should know?”

Julia always asked if you had interesting personalities in your group. She sometimes changed her horse selection based on who was coming in. Whether they were highly-strung people, very gregarious, used to horses or newbies, if she could find the ideal horse for them, it would make their riding experience so much better.

You sat down cross-legged on a large, square hay bale and toyed with the fragrant straw-like sticks poking out from underneath you. It was difficult to explain this group to her. Not because you haven’t had groups like this before, but this time it felt strangely exposing. Like you’d be revealing something of yourself if you told her what your impressions of them were. Julia was a perceptive woman, and you were sure your friend would figure it out anyway.

After chewing on the question for a while, you looked up at her.

“They all seem…fine? Ginger, I mean…Erin….seems quite timid. I don’t think she’s ridden before. Or, she doesn’t strike me as an experienced rider. Jake says he knows his way around horses.

You hesitated for a beat.

Jack is…well you’ll have to see it for yourself. He wears a Stetson and does the whole ‘cowboy’ thing.” Julia laughed at your exaggerated air quotes and you couldn’t help smiling at your own assessment.

You continued.

“He should come with a warning sign, to be honest. He might try to flirt with you. Or the horse. Both, possibly. Just….gird your loins, he’s a menace.”

As the last words left your mouth you heard a whistle as Tequila walked into the stables. He picked you up bodily and hugged you. His voice boomed through the wide open space.

“I’m so excited for this, I haven’t ridden in so long, I need that wind through my hair today.”

With his arms loosening, you rubbed your palms over your ribs, which you were sure were now bruised.

Peering up at his # 4 shaved hair, you wondered what breeze he imagined he’d be feeling that he wasn’t already experiencing just from walking around. These rides were normally a tame affair and Julia, although sweet, wasn’t to be messed with.

Ginger and Jack followed on his heels, the latter shooting you a blinding smile, like he’d been waiting for this moment all day. You nodded curtly, and tried to surreptitiously use Julia as a human shield to hide behind. Her eyes crinkled in mirth as she picked up on your plan, and she stuck her hand out to him to distract him. From behind Julia you were suddenly very interested in the reins on Bojack, fingering the leather between your thumb and forefinger as if to divine its quality and origin, like some craftsman.

Her even, calm voice broke through your faux concentration. “Hi, you must be Jack, nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ma’am.” he said genially, tipping his hat to her. You were fully expecting something lecherous to leave his lips and you couldn’t immediately figure out whether you were relieved that he’d spared you another blow or disappointed because you had gotten it wrong. Again.

She moved to greet the others, and you doubled your efforts to inspect the cheekpiece with intense concentration. After a few minutes you noticed Jack wasn’t beside you anymore. He had wandered off into the stable, while the others milled about were peppering Julia with questions about the trip and the horses.

Despite yourself, you walked to see where he had gotten off to. You finally found him in front of Duchess’ stall, his side to you, so that his profile was illuminated by the outside lighting. Quietly, you watched him, careful not to disturb or intrude.

He leaned over the stall door, one arm casually resting on it, while the other hand was lightly stroking the bridge of her nose, almost reverently. In the shuffling quiet of the barn, he murmured to her in hushed tones.

Whatever magic he was weaving seemed to be working because she lifted her muzzle and breathed in his face, letting out a deep hum.

Julia sidled up to him, worried that Duchess would lull him into a false sense of security and then make a fuss. She wasn’t normally this familiar with strangers.

“She’s quite ornery, I wouldn’t get too close.”

“What, this lil puddin’ pie over here? I’m sure she’s fine. Besides, I like my girls with a lil’ bit of fight in them.” He grinned, suddenly shifting his eyes to look at you from under the cowboy hat. You had no idea he even realised you were there and you quietly slinked away like the world’s most embarrassed slug. Fuck.

Julia helped everyone onto the horses, while you and Jack stood at the side watching. With a bit of a battle, Ginger finally sat astride Ysa, who looked bored, with Tequila on Hank. A great personality match, you thought.

As soon as Julia brought out Dusty, another English Thoroughbred, Jack walked over to her.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try my hand with that ol’ girl.” and he pointed to Duchess.

A pained expression stole over Julia’s face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She’s difficult to handle. She’s been very resistant to training, so I haven’t let anyone ride her but myself.”

“I know I might not look it but I’m an expert rider and trained horses in my younger days. I’ll be fine, I promise. If you need me to sign some waiver or somethin’, I’ll happily do it.”.

She paused for a few seconds and then relented. Duchess seemed comfortable around Jack, and she would be close by if Duchess decided to do anything funny.

Getting Jack and yourself settled was quick and easy, as you both knew the ins and outs of getting into the saddle. You thanked your lucky stars that Jack was wearing slightly less tight jeans today; you didn’t know if you’d survive seeing him getting on the horse in his usual getup.

The horses padded outside, the fresh breeze ruffling their manes and carrying the fragrant scent of the sunkissed savanna on the wind.

The group got going, the dull, rhythmic thud of hooves on the soil joining the locusts' high pitched buzzing, as the horses descended into a shallow valley. Julia was the first to break the silence.

“I’m impressed Jack, no one’s ridden Duchess like this before. She’s so relaxed. It’s not your first time on top of a horse, I can see that.” she said.

Jack chuckled.

“Also not my first time on top of a Duchess.”

Ginger broke out in a violent coughing fit and Tequila’s unadulterated guffaw boomed through the wide open space, echoing against the slopes a few times before dying down.

Julia tried to recover, admirably so, by steering the conversation into safer territory, asking various members of the group where they learnt to ride for the first time. After a while, she circled back to Jack.

“You mentioned you were a trainer in your younger days, tell me about that? I’m so keen to hear from another horse enthusiast.”

You were trying to listen while just looking ahead of you.

“Oh, it’s nothin’ really. I grew up on a ranch, so I’ve been fond of horses my whole life. My dad used to train and taught me the skill too. Takes a lot of patience, a lot of time, y’know?”

He looked over at Julia, who nodded her head knowingly. Jack continued, looking a little wistful.

“He was a wild one, but Mama made him settle down some.”

“Your dad or the horse?” you quipped.

A naughty smile wrapped around Jack’s gorgeous lips like smoke curling from a starting fire.

“Well now which one do you think, missy? Ain’t no woman can settle a horse like she can settle a man whose heart is ready to do so for her.” he said quietly.

There it was again, that feeling that your pulse was sitting right in your throat and constricting your breathing. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried to distract yourself. Imagining a strapping young 20-something Jack on a ranch somewhere wooing some cute girl was not something you should be thinking about.

After a long while, you reached an outpost. It was a thatch boma with a few rough-hewn picnic tables and some camp lights, meant as a destination for the horse riding excursions. To the right of the boma was a fire pit, where you had spent many evenings watching the sunset and enjoying a sundowner with some of your groups. Watching the burnt orange sun descend over the dark savanna just never got old.

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Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x f!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #pedro pascal character x you

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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Under Marula Trees - Chapter 5

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

A special thank you to my lovely @sirowsky who this chapter is dedicated to, who helped me iron out some horse nuances. Julia, in this chapter, is inspired by her.

Explanation: Boma is an enclosure or fenced off area - the word is Swahili and used in different parts of Africa.

Series Masterlist | Taglist sign-up

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Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, painting your face with bright streaks of light like some ethereal warrior in slumber.

For one blissful moment, the feather-softness of the duvet and the mild, warm weather was comforting. Once you were awake however, the previous night crystallised in your mind, bit by bit.

You couldn’t understand where this ache was coming from. Jack was not the first man to reject you and wouldn’t be the last. But he was the most ridiculous one, you spitefully thought to yourself.

He might also be the most infuriating.

And the most beautiful, your stupid heart added.

Those brown eyes. The soft cupid’s bow, the crease in the full bottom lip. His profile. With your eyes closed you were pleasantly surprised at how many visual memories of him you had stored away.

Imaginary Jack regarded you for a moment, then beckoned you closer with a subtle move of his head, his eyes flicking to the space in front of him, then back to you.

As he pulled you into him, you leaned over, your breasts flush with his stomach. Against your sternum you felt him harden even more as lips and tongue meted out a need for each other.

You tossed the wet scrap of material out of the pool roguishly, a naughty little smile on your lips.

Your palm curled around his heft and you winked at him before your head dipped down.

“This is mine, cowboy.”

As your lips wrapped around the head, you could feel Imaginary Jack’s clever fingers slide over your breasts, cupping and moulding them as he got carried away with the sensation.

Jack captured your mouth, swallowing your moans while moving you up and down on his hard cock. Pulling away, you challenged him breathlessly. “Fuck me like you mean it, cowboy.”

“Anythin’ you want, Sugar.”

That broke the spell, and you opened your eyes again, chest heaving from exertion.

You hoped you would magically develop amnesia soon.

The woman in question was brushing Hank when you walked in a little early for your appointment with the group.

“Hey Jules, how are you and the ponies today?”

She blew a dark blonde lock of hair out of her face and turned to you with a sardonic smile, ready to chastise you for daring to call them ponies.

“Good, everyone seems to be in fine spirits. I see we have a group of three coming in today. Anything I should know?”

After chewing on the question for a while, you looked up at her.

You hesitated for a beat.

You continued.

“He should come with a warning sign, to be honest. He might try to flirt with you. Or the horse. Both, possibly. Just….gird your loins, he’s a menace.”

As the last words left your mouth you heard a whistle as Tequila walked into the stables. He picked you up bodily and hugged you. His voice boomed through the wide open space.

“I’m so excited for this, I haven’t ridden in so long, I need that wind through my hair today.”

With his arms loosening, you rubbed your palms over your ribs, which you were sure were now bruised.

Her even, calm voice broke through your faux concentration. “Hi, you must be Jack, nice to meet you.”

Whatever magic he was weaving seemed to be working because she lifted her muzzle and breathed in his face, letting out a deep hum.

Julia sidled up to him, worried that Duchess would lull him into a false sense of security and then make a fuss. She wasn’t normally this familiar with strangers.

“She’s quite ornery, I wouldn’t get too close.”

As soon as Julia brought out Dusty, another English Thoroughbred, Jack walked over to her.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try my hand with that ol’ girl.” and he pointed to Duchess.

“I know I might not look it but I’m an expert rider and trained horses in my younger days. I’ll be fine, I promise. If you need me to sign some waiver or somethin’, I’ll happily do it.”.

She paused for a few seconds and then relented. Duchess seemed comfortable around Jack, and she would be close by if Duchess decided to do anything funny.

The horses padded outside, the fresh breeze ruffling their manes and carrying the fragrant scent of the sunkissed savanna on the wind.

The group got going, the dull, rhythmic thud of hooves on the soil joining the locusts' high pitched buzzing, as the horses descended into a shallow valley. Julia was the first to break the silence.

“I’m impressed Jack, no one’s ridden Duchess like this before. She’s so relaxed. It’s not your first time on top of a horse, I can see that.” she said.

Jack chuckled.

“Also not my first time on top of a Duchess.”

Ginger broke out in a violent coughing fit and Tequila’s unadulterated guffaw boomed through the wide open space, echoing against the slopes a few times before dying down.

“You mentioned you were a trainer in your younger days, tell me about that? I’m so keen to hear from another horse enthusiast.”

You were trying to listen while just looking ahead of you.

He looked over at Julia, who nodded her head knowingly. Jack continued, looking a little wistful.

“He was a wild one, but Mama made him settle down some.”

“Your dad or the horse?” you quipped.

A naughty smile wrapped around Jack’s gorgeous lips like smoke curling from a starting fire.

“Well now which one do you think, missy? Ain’t no woman can settle a horse like she can settle a man whose heart is ready to do so for her.” he said quietly.

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Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#dumb self reblog #pedro pascal character fanfiction #under marula trees #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman golden circle fanfic

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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I see @katareyoudrilling and Frankie and I hit reblog. Loved this epilogue! 💝

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Porn star Female reader

Summary: You texted Frankie after your evening together, but what happened next?

Word count: 600k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: descriptions of sex acts

A/N: This follows the events of The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales so be sure to read that first! I did the most minimal of research for this, so please forgive any inaccuracies. I have been overwhelmed (in the best way) by the response to Sweepstakes Frankie. I hope what I’ve imagine here does him justice. Enjoy!

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!

“Frankie! Come see this!” you exclaim from the bedroom.

“What is it?” Frankie comes in, running a towel through his shower-damp hair, wearing just his worn blue jeans. You take in the view of his soft tummy and bare feet, momentarily distracted from the news you called him in to share.

You just had him in your bed less than an hour ago, but you’d gladly have him back again. You shake your head to clear the distracting thoughts.

“Right. I was just uploading today’s video when I saw that we hit 1,000 subscribers!”

“What? Really? That sounds like a lot.” He sits down next to you on the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip and bumping your knee against his side. His fresh, clean scent wafts over you and you have to resist the urge to snuggle into his warm skin.

“It is a lot,” you beam at him, and he returns your smile with a lopsided grin of his own. “We’ll be making real money soon.”

It had been after another fun and satisfying fuck with your favorite civilian that you had pitched Frankie the idea of starting an OnlyFans with you.

The way you saw it, there was an untapped market for soft, brown-eyed men, who gave amazing head. Your rapidly rising subscriber numbers are proving your hunch to be correct.

Frankie had thought it over, but he said it was ultimately a pretty easy decision. Why not try to earn a little extra money doing something he loved?

You called your channel “The Pussy Eating King”

Your signature videos were first person POVs of him eating you out. Sometimes he looked directly down the camera with those soulful eyes. Others, he closed them to get completely lost in the pleasure of your cunt. It was devastating… in the best way. And the viewership numbers agreed.

Second to those, were the videos you filmed from between Frankie’s legs, looking up at him while you stroked his gorgeous cock until he came. His disheveled curls and pink cheeks are the stuff dreams are made of.

Dirty dreams.

Dreams you wake up needy and desperate from.

It would be selfish to keep that view just for yourself.

“I think we should celebrate,” Frankie muses, pulling on his t-shirt and running his fingers through his messy curls. “Can I take you on a date?”

“A date?” Your pulse pounds in your ears. Sure, you have sex with Frankie on a regular basis. You have sex with a lot of people. Sure, you often wind up spending the day in bed with him just talking, but being with him in public? With clothes on?

Frankie senses your hesitation. “It doesn’t have to change anything. I just really like you and want to spend time with you.”

“I… ok,” you hear yourself answer.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 8.” Frankie kisses the top of your head and makes his way out of your apartment, picking up his hat as he goes. Before he closes the door, he turns and winks.

- - - - - - - - -

Later that night, Frankie takes your hand as you walk down the sidewalk. He twines his fingers with yours in a way that feels more intimate than anything you’ve done in the bedroom.

He said nothing would change, but things always change.

For the first time in a long time, you wonder if maybe that isn’t a bad thing.

- - - - - - - - - -

A/N: If these types of videos exist, please let me know…

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – in reblog

#the sweepstakes #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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Holy Helsinki boat rides that was scorching 🥵 I'm literally scared for the whole fic now.

Last Line Tag Game

I've been tagged! by @leslie-lyman once and @grogusmum twice.

You want some lines? I've written some lines.

He likes it that way…soft, slow. Likes to pull you in as close as he can, twist his forehead into your temple when he hits his peak, jaw clenched in agonized pleasure, kisses along your jawline when you find yours, his eyes half-lidded and watching you in a hazy awe. He’s quiet but thorough, completely present, sighs a hushed curse in your ear and calls you sweetheart in the same breath, and then sleeps like a baby the whole night through.

tagging @blueeyesatnight @something-tofightfor @insomniamamma @missredherring @littlemisspascal @ezrasbirdie

#wow #I missed Adiras writing

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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PEDRO PASCAL as JAVIER PEÑA Narcos (2015-2017) | insp

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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Well I'm hooked. I love the storytelling and the banter, and I'm dying to know why she is wearing all her clothes?

Also, absolutely exquisite line, giving me the worst writer envy - He moved out of the way but was so distracted he actually knocked his head on his own wood and had to pretend it didn't hurt.

Chef's kiss.

Cast Iron & Sunshine: Part 1: Think I'll Call You Sunshine

title: Cast Iron & Sunshine

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x reader/you/ "Sunshine"

Prospector/Western AU

Word Count: 1900

Rating: I like to say R for the series but there's not much in here yet.

A/N: I told myself I wouldn't dabble with Jack and now there's 2 Jack WIPs and well, here we are.

Author Masterlist -- Series Masterlist

Part 1: Think I’ll Call You Sunshine

He woke up with a headache and it took him about ten whole minutes to figure why the world was sideways.

"Shit." He whispered and slowly raised himself to a seated position. A bemused chuckle came from the corner.

"Hell, Imma owe Junior a drink, I said you wouldn't be up before noon and darn if it ain't 11:30." A man snapped shut a gold pocket watch with a bottle etched on the outside. It was an old and worn thing and it complicated matters.

Jack found he could only sit, not stand, as he was handcuffed and he looked at the irons on his wrists and then over at the Sheriff, "The hell…Champ, this some sorta joke?"

"You decked Dexter."

Jack scoffed, "You've decked Dexter."

"Through Arlene's front door." Champ continued.

"For which I am mighty remorseful and will fix."

"On the day the new doctor is set to arrive and board there." Champ finished with a sigh.

"Shit." Jack said again and rubbed at his eyes as best he could, "I don't suppose an I'm awful sorry will cut it this time?"

"Nope." Champ tossed Jack the keys to the cuffs, "But fixing her door will be a start. Then you gotta train up Young Buck –" Jack audibly groaned but Champ ignored him, "-- And take the newcomers out to the fresh prospecting spot. Then you gotta meet with Jem and we gotta get our trades all sorted. I'm not looking empty handed like last time because some damn fool couldn't count."

Jack unlocked his hands, "I didn't realize jars and pints and all that weren't the same, how's a soul to know? People ain't clear with their demands they may receive opaque responses is all I know."

"Dickie knew it was supposed to be twenty." Champ eyed Jack.

"And I pray for him daily, it's on my heart that that poor boy's gone missing." Jack smirked and stood to his full height, "So what did I hit Dex for?"

"Cheating at cards."

"Was he?"

"No but," Champ reached under the edge of Jack's jacket and tugged loose an ace, "I bet you had that money all tucked away before you swung."

"Hopefully," Jack shrugged and rubbed his mouth, "He hit me back? My mouth's hurting."

"Always told you you'd get socked in the mouth if you kept running it." Champ smirked, "But actually I think that the table or the window got you first."

Jack stretched his arms and tried to loosen his back and finally looked over at Champ, "Alright well … what's cooking?"

_____________🐎_______________

You were holding your bag and kept touching the string that held your hat to your head. Sweat was steadily dripping down the back of your neck. You hadn't had the luggage space to pack a lot of your clothes so you were wearing as many of them as you could. In this heat it wasn't very comfortable, but you didn't know what sort of trade would exist so far out West. Underneath three separate skirts were also a pair of pants. The newest pair of clothing that you had were the boots and you had paid handsomely for them, trading over jewelry and hair combs, but you knew that they would be worth their weight.

Under your bag with your hand always touching it was a shotgun and the people around you in the wagon would eyeball it occasionally. Most of them had guns also but yours was kept in a fairly active position. More than one person joked about you being worried about highway robbers. You just smiled and pretended that that was the reason. One man asked if you knew how to handle it.

You changed how you were seated so it was aimed at him, "Care to find out?"

It was a dead bluff, but he didn't need to know that.

This was a long way to go but there wasn't much else around so if you went a made a big fuss there wouldn't be many places for you to go and hide it, best keep a firm deterrent on your lap and avoid using it if possible. After all, you might have been the only woman traveling alone in this entire contraption.

_____________🐎_______________

Blue River Canyon was the name of the larger settlement but it included all the far flung homesteads. The city proper was called Rock Heed and you felt it was a tad on the nose. The original settlers probably had a strange sense of humor being as there was a big ol' mountain, several smaller outcroppings, another mountain range in the distance, and a million boulders and such every which way.

They claimed there was gold but there didn't appear to be any wealth from the look of the towns. There was progress, which you knew wasn't cheap, but there wasn't an obvious sign of someone striking gold. Money came into the town, so did goods. Often in ways people didn’t fully figure but then again, what did it help anyone to think too hard? Things were working out. There wasn’t much trouble. It was worth being here compared to other places but this was also pretty remote. People carried their guns on their hips. People didn’t mess around after dark for fear of catching a bullet in a tragic case of mistaken identity.

The people were built of the same stuff as the mountains and they were sturdy looking with a tendency to crack in places. The advertisement for a doctor had stressed a strong stomach due to the naturally rough terrain being hell on folk.

Everyone in town had known a new person was coming and you were identified by smell a mile off, it seemed. As soon as the peddler gave you space in his buggy for the journey between the train and the town he had laughed, "Oh Arlene will be sore as hell you're a lady, the boys busted up her door last night and she's embarrassed it looks like a fighting pit."

He was, in fact, right, Arlene looked fit to be tied when she saw you and immediately said, “Damn it all to hell I will skin Jack alive for this.”

At the time you had no idea who Jack was but felt he really was in serious danger of getting himself into deep trouble with her. She was petting your arm, remarking on the nice fabric of your dress, and insisting that this was not how she would’ve preferred you come into her saloon.

"I am terrible sorry for the state of the place," the matron, Arlene, was genuinely embarrassed and also angry sounding, "a couple of local jackasses damaged my door and you'll note one is making amends with it. I do promise this isn't some sort of brawling establishment."

"Ma'am I do not for one moment believe you would allow those jackasses to do that, you must've been pretty peeved." Arlene smiled at your language and then laughed.

“They are jackasses but they got decent hearts.” This was actually how you had an important meeting. Arlene gently grabbed your elbow and pointed, "I do, again, apologize for the door, but your bags were taken up by Arnold. I agreed to help a friend now and I am afraid I can't take the next few minutes to help you to your room but you can't miss it. Second on the right."

It meant you had to walk through a door currently under construction by a man who you couldn't fully see yet.

Some might say that you were accustomed to finding trouble and you knew that this man was just that. He had a well-groomed mustache and a day's worth of stubble. He had a large pounded metal belt buckle that was meant for showing off the design. He had a gun on one hip and a whip on the other. Slung around his chest was a rope. And if you had to bet you'd say the man could lasso a cow from a long pace. He had on a large and well brimmed hat and thick gloves that knew work. More than that, the second he laid eyes on you, you saw that glint in his eye. This was a man that expected to hear yes. You'd put money on the fact that he wouldn't even ask too nicely for it. Not rude or pushy, but just the offer of a man who's never been turned down.

"Whew!" Jack yowled, "Girl, anyone ever mention to you that you are a whole pound of sunshine shoved into a can? I mean, damn what is a man supposed to do?"

Goddammit I should have had the money on it.

You cocked an eyebrow, "If you're insinuating one of the possibilities is opening me up you will find yourself immensely disappointed."

This was the moment that many men would get offended. But this one just smiled deeper and shook his head, "Well pardon, I didn't mean to imply such a thing."

He winked. I might have meant to imply such a thing.

He extended his hand, "Jack Daniels. Folks around here call me Whiskey."

You offered him a hand and started to shake it but he quickly turned it and kissed the back of your hand, you weren't about to swoon over it, just offered your name and took back your hand as soon as he loosened his grip.

"Fine name and all, but I think you'll always be Sunshine to me."

"Damned if I'll be calling you Whiskey, so I suppose it's an even trade."

He whistled, "You are a hoot. I do hope you aren't the doctor's wife because I have enough problems without falling in desperate love with a married woman."

You laughed, directly in his face, "Well that'd be hard as…I am the doctor."

Jack blinked his big brown eyes twice, "Pardon?"

"Yes. Well. Move please I would like to put the last of my things in my room."

He moved out of the way but was so distracted he actually knocked his head on his own wood and had to pretend it didn't hurt.

_____________🐎_______________

Things weren't always hard to find, but sometimes things were other than what they appeared. Champ's watch and Jack's big ol' belt buckle held symbols that didn't mean much to most folk, but they were a calling card to the right group.

There was a prospecting site that was small and barren but you wouldn't know it from looking at it as the boys kept at the same small spot endlessly. Might've had something to do with the outhouse that was built, strangely, right along a mountain. Through there wasn't an outhouse at all but a hidden door.

There was a woman with a doctor's bag wearing every piece of clothing she owned…except one. One she had left behind and didn't care about its loss.

There was a way of talking in town about news that hid how much some people knew.

There was a man in a suit with a gun. He was a Pinkerton.

Pinkertons never slept.

He was on a train that was going as West as the lines went, but he suspected after that there wouldn't be anything and he'd have to go further still.

Thing was, Pinkertons always got their man, and this particular subject had been one he had wanted for a while.

_____________________________________________________________

A/N: I'm not using tag lists because...well I wanted to publish it before I was late for pick up!

Not Beta Read!

#cast iron and sunshine #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #dangit Blue why you gotta make me excited before i have to go to sleep

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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Oooo @grogusmum this sounds so exciting!

@dawn-petrichor-world keep going, eventually the ideas are going to form a story 💝

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by the illustrious @katareyoudrilling thank you bb!

Finally, I have things to share!!!

Ezra winks and walks the back path to the kitchen porch. He takes off his hat before wrapping on the screen door. Cee waits, and a cat comes from the detaching garage and attaches itself to her legs, leaning and circling. She laughs at its creaky little meow. After a second, sharper, though nevertheless polite, knock - “Well, little bird, it seems the lady of the house is elsewhere,” he concludes. “We should not be caught loitering about. Let's see what this seaside hamlet has to offer a pair of adventurers, like us.”

@chaoticgeminate @oonajaeadira @writeforfandoms @insomniamamma @firstofficerwiggles @dawn-petrichor-world @ezrasbirdie @bunniesofsteel @burnwater13 @morallyinept @leslie-lyman @prolix-yuy

#last line tag game #cant wait to read

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deadhumourist · 1 month

Text

#exactly this

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deadhumourist · 1 month

Note

This was so lovely and dreamy, I could just stay in that bubble all day! And I love that you're doing microfics! 💝💝💝

Hello

Ezra being lazy?

Hope you're well! xx

Hi 💜

How are you? Well I hope! I’m ok, pretty tired. I didn’t sleep great the last few nights. I just made some hot coco w/rose and I’m gonna chill with an audio book, then hopefully get to bed early.

✨✨✨ Oh my space husband! Always happy to write him, I added an oc, enjoy! (Ps I went over 100 words 😬)✨✨✨

Repose (Ezra + lazy)

Basking in the moonlight, Aurora counted the stars and the seedlings of a poem strung together in her mind.

To her left, Ezra hummed contently with his eyes closed, laying on the grass perfectly still, arms and legs stretched out.

Every single muscle in his body humming with tranquility in the act of absolute rest - inactivity at its finest.

This is not a luxury he’s always had - no - the choice to do nothing at all wasn’t one of his options, life in the Fringe didn’t allow for such a comfort.

But that is his past now, many moons ago.

Tonight is like many of his nights; laid up like a giant cat - a homely feline without a care in the world. Kevva has blessed him with a life of tranquility and ease.

Who could have predicted on that fateful day, in need of work once more, he’d meet his love at the digital board he came to loathe- that board that offered jobs of all types and various levels of pay

There she was, rainbow hair and all, brown eyes scanning the listings when he approached and instantly everything vanished except her; his star, his rainbow, his other half.

“Ezra,” her voice met his ears sweetly, softly, a gentle whisper in the wind, “how about dinner?”

Ezra smiled and slowly opened his eyes. Yes, his stomach was indeed ready for food, but he just couldn’t find the strength to move yet.

“A lunar feast to end such a lovely day is music to my ears, though I find myself unable to move, “he looked to his left to meet her waiting gaze, “my love, I will join you soon enough. I’d like to lay here a moment longer, basking in my languorous pause.”

Aurora smiled and inched closer to him, stabilizing herself on her elbows, she dipped her head and kissed him, her kinky coils tickling his face.

“Take all the time you need. And once our bellies are full of sustenance, we shall read plays and poems by the fire.”

“And draw the evening to a close with more - “he brushed his lips against hers, “physical acts of pleasure.”

Ezra watched with warm eyes and a smile as Aurora went into the house. Letting out a deep breath, he glanced up at the rose colored moon once more, and then let his eyes close again.

📧 ask away

Character + an adjective

I love these, if anyone wants to send more, please do. I’ll get to them tomorrow and the day after. You can also expand this to other characters I write.

Ps: yes I totally made a visual for this, I picture her hair like the image but with more colors.

#ezra fan fic #ezra fanfiction #microfic challenge #thedreamiest

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deadhumourist · 1 month

Text

RBing this because I'm going to dip into it before bed and I just know it's gonna be goooooooood.

Hello @blueeyesatnight I have lots to catch up on! Xxx

Cast Iron & Sunshine: Masterlist

"Sunshine, I know just where you can kiss it and make it feel better."

Jack Daniels Masterlist

Author Masterlist

Part 1: Think I'll Call You Sunshine (link)

Part 2: Daisy

Part 3: A Real Doctor NEW

Basic stats:

Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman meets the Gold Rush with Pinkertons. And sleezy criminal enterprises.

(note: while the setting is historical I do believe I keep a racially open reader)

#jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fanfiction #jack whiskey daniels fanfiction

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deadhumourist · 1 month

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Tags @alexxavicry @amneris21 @fromthedeskoftheraven @iceclaw101 @katareyoudrilling @kissedbydragonfire @lorilane33 @shirks-all-responsibilities @sirowsky @timpletance @tintinn16 @trickstersp8 @fuckyeahdindjarin @baroness-golden

Under Marula Trees - Chapter 5

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

A special thank you to my lovely @sirowsky who this chapter is dedicated to, who helped me iron out some horse nuances. Julia, in this chapter, is inspired by her.

Explanation: Boma is an enclosure or fenced off area - the word is Swahili and used in different parts of Africa.

Series Masterlist | Taglist sign-up

-----------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, painting your face with bright streaks of light like some ethereal warrior in slumber.

For one blissful moment, the feather-softness of the duvet and the mild, warm weather was comforting. Once you were awake however, the previous night crystallised in your mind, bit by bit.

You couldn’t understand where this ache was coming from. Jack was not the first man to reject you and wouldn’t be the last. But he was the most ridiculous one, you spitefully thought to yourself.

He might also be the most infuriating.

And the most beautiful, your stupid heart added.

Those brown eyes. The soft cupid’s bow, the crease in the full bottom lip. His profile. With your eyes closed you were pleasantly surprised at how many visual memories of him you had stored away.

Imaginary Jack regarded you for a moment, then beckoned you closer with a subtle move of his head, his eyes flicking to the space in front of him, then back to you.

As he pulled you into him, you leaned over, your breasts flush with his stomach. Against your sternum you felt him harden even more as lips and tongue meted out a need for each other.

You tossed the wet scrap of material out of the pool roguishly, a naughty little smile on your lips.

Your palm curled around his heft and you winked at him before your head dipped down.

“This is mine, cowboy.”

As your lips wrapped around the head, you could feel Imaginary Jack’s clever fingers slide over your breasts, cupping and moulding them as he got carried away with the sensation.

Jack captured your mouth, swallowing your moans while moving you up and down on his hard cock. Pulling away, you challenged him breathlessly. “Fuck me like you mean it, cowboy.”

“Anythin’ you want, Sugar.”

That broke the spell, and you opened your eyes again, chest heaving from exertion.

You hoped you would magically develop amnesia soon.

The woman in question was brushing Hank when you walked in a little early for your appointment with the group.

“Hey Jules, how are you and the ponies today?”

She blew a dark blonde lock of hair out of her face and turned to you with a sardonic smile, ready to chastise you for daring to call them ponies.

“Good, everyone seems to be in fine spirits. I see we have a group of three coming in today. Anything I should know?”

After chewing on the question for a while, you looked up at her.

You hesitated for a beat.

You continued.

“He should come with a warning sign, to be honest. He might try to flirt with you. Or the horse. Both, possibly. Just….gird your loins, he’s a menace.”

As the last words left your mouth you heard a whistle as Tequila walked into the stables. He picked you up bodily and hugged you. His voice boomed through the wide open space.

“I’m so excited for this, I haven’t ridden in so long, I need that wind through my hair today.”

With his arms loosening, you rubbed your palms over your ribs, which you were sure were now bruised.

Her even, calm voice broke through your faux concentration. “Hi, you must be Jack, nice to meet you.”

Whatever magic he was weaving seemed to be working because she lifted her muzzle and breathed in his face, letting out a deep hum.

Julia sidled up to him, worried that Duchess would lull him into a false sense of security and then make a fuss. She wasn’t normally this familiar with strangers.

“She’s quite ornery, I wouldn’t get too close.”

As soon as Julia brought out Dusty, another English Thoroughbred, Jack walked over to her.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try my hand with that ol’ girl.” and he pointed to Duchess.

“I know I might not look it but I’m an expert rider and trained horses in my younger days. I’ll be fine, I promise. If you need me to sign some waiver or somethin’, I’ll happily do it.”.

She paused for a few seconds and then relented. Duchess seemed comfortable around Jack, and she would be close by if Duchess decided to do anything funny.

The horses padded outside, the fresh breeze ruffling their manes and carrying the fragrant scent of the sunkissed savanna on the wind.

The group got going, the dull, rhythmic thud of hooves on the soil joining the locusts' high pitched buzzing, as the horses descended into a shallow valley. Julia was the first to break the silence.

“I’m impressed Jack, no one’s ridden Duchess like this before. She’s so relaxed. It’s not your first time on top of a horse, I can see that.” she said.

Jack chuckled.

“Also not my first time on top of a Duchess.”

Ginger broke out in a violent coughing fit and Tequila’s unadulterated guffaw boomed through the wide open space, echoing against the slopes a few times before dying down.

“You mentioned you were a trainer in your younger days, tell me about that? I’m so keen to hear from another horse enthusiast.”

You were trying to listen while just looking ahead of you.

He looked over at Julia, who nodded her head knowingly. Jack continued, looking a little wistful.

“He was a wild one, but Mama made him settle down some.”

“Your dad or the horse?” you quipped.

A naughty smile wrapped around Jack’s gorgeous lips like smoke curling from a starting fire.

“Well now which one do you think, missy? Ain’t no woman can settle a horse like she can settle a man whose heart is ready to do so for her.” he said quietly.

----

Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey x f!reader #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x f!reader

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deadhumourist · 1 month

Text

Under Marula Trees - Chapter 5

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

A special thank you to my lovely @sirowsky who this chapter is dedicated to, who helped me iron out some horse nuances. Julia, in this chapter, is inspired by her.

Explanation: Boma is an enclosure or fenced off area - the word is Swahili and used in different parts of Africa.

Series Masterlist | Taglist sign-up

-----------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, painting your face with bright streaks of light like some ethereal warrior in slumber.

For one blissful moment, the feather-softness of the duvet and the mild, warm weather was comforting. Once you were awake however, the previous night crystallised in your mind, bit by bit.

You couldn’t understand where this ache was coming from. Jack was not the first man to reject you and wouldn’t be the last. But he was the most ridiculous one, you spitefully thought to yourself.

He might also be the most infuriating.

And the most beautiful, your stupid heart added.

Those brown eyes. The soft cupid’s bow, the crease in the full bottom lip. His profile. With your eyes closed you were pleasantly surprised at how many visual memories of him you had stored away.

Imaginary Jack regarded you for a moment, then beckoned you closer with a subtle move of his head, his eyes flicking to the space in front of him, then back to you.

As he pulled you into him, you leaned over, your breasts flush with his stomach. Against your sternum you felt him harden even more as lips and tongue meted out a need for each other.

You tossed the wet scrap of material out of the pool roguishly, a naughty little smile on your lips.

Your palm curled around his heft and you winked at him before your head dipped down.

“This is mine, cowboy.”

As your lips wrapped around the head, you could feel Imaginary Jack’s clever fingers slide over your breasts, cupping and moulding them as he got carried away with the sensation.

Jack captured your mouth, swallowing your moans while moving you up and down on his hard cock. Pulling away, you challenged him breathlessly. “Fuck me like you mean it, cowboy.”

“Anythin’ you want, Sugar.”

That broke the spell, and you opened your eyes again, chest heaving from exertion.

You hoped you would magically develop amnesia soon.

The woman in question was brushing Hank when you walked in a little early for your appointment with the group.

“Hey Jules, how are you and the ponies today?”

She blew a dark blonde lock of hair out of her face and turned to you with a sardonic smile, ready to chastise you for daring to call them ponies.

“Good, everyone seems to be in fine spirits. I see we have a group of three coming in today. Anything I should know?”

After chewing on the question for a while, you looked up at her.

You hesitated for a beat.

You continued.

“He should come with a warning sign, to be honest. He might try to flirt with you. Or the horse. Both, possibly. Just….gird your loins, he’s a menace.”

As the last words left your mouth you heard a whistle as Tequila walked into the stables. He picked you up bodily and hugged you. His voice boomed through the wide open space.

“I’m so excited for this, I haven’t ridden in so long, I need that wind through my hair today.”

With his arms loosening, you rubbed your palms over your ribs, which you were sure were now bruised.

Her even, calm voice broke through your faux concentration. “Hi, you must be Jack, nice to meet you.”

Whatever magic he was weaving seemed to be working because she lifted her muzzle and breathed in his face, letting out a deep hum.

Julia sidled up to him, worried that Duchess would lull him into a false sense of security and then make a fuss. She wasn’t normally this familiar with strangers.

“She’s quite ornery, I wouldn’t get too close.”

As soon as Julia brought out Dusty, another English Thoroughbred, Jack walked over to her.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try my hand with that ol’ girl.” and he pointed to Duchess.

“I know I might not look it but I’m an expert rider and trained horses in my younger days. I’ll be fine, I promise. If you need me to sign some waiver or somethin’, I’ll happily do it.”.

She paused for a few seconds and then relented. Duchess seemed comfortable around Jack, and she would be close by if Duchess decided to do anything funny.

The horses padded outside, the fresh breeze ruffling their manes and carrying the fragrant scent of the sunkissed savanna on the wind.

The group got going, the dull, rhythmic thud of hooves on the soil joining the locusts' high pitched buzzing, as the horses descended into a shallow valley. Julia was the first to break the silence.

“I’m impressed Jack, no one’s ridden Duchess like this before. She’s so relaxed. It’s not your first time on top of a horse, I can see that.” she said.

Jack chuckled.

“Also not my first time on top of a Duchess.”

Ginger broke out in a violent coughing fit and Tequila’s unadulterated guffaw boomed through the wide open space, echoing against the slopes a few times before dying down.

“You mentioned you were a trainer in your younger days, tell me about that? I’m so keen to hear from another horse enthusiast.”

You were trying to listen while just looking ahead of you.

He looked over at Julia, who nodded her head knowingly. Jack continued, looking a little wistful.

“He was a wild one, but Mama made him settle down some.”

“Your dad or the horse?” you quipped.

A naughty smile wrapped around Jack’s gorgeous lips like smoke curling from a starting fire.

“Well now which one do you think, missy? Ain’t no woman can settle a horse like she can settle a man whose heart is ready to do so for her.” he said quietly.

----

Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #under marula trees #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman golden circle fanfic

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deadhumourist · 3 months

Text

This was just the loveliest - sweet, warm, HOT and Frankie would be just the guy to completely turn the tables on expectations!

This line was the most devastating I'd read in a while: "Broad, warm, soft at the edges, but hard where it matters."

DAMN, GIRL 😳

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales (Porn Star AU)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Porn Star Female Reader

Summary: A popular porn site runs a sweepstakes to win a night with your favorite porn star. One of the winners is a man and he has chosen you. Will it be a night of mediocre sex or will Frankie surprise you?

Word count: ~3.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Unprotected PIV (paperwork is involved), oral (m and f receiving), a hint of tummy worship, reader’s clothing is described briefly but no physical description

A/N: I got in the weeds a bit thinking how something like this could be made safe for everyone involved and decided we all just need to suspend our disbelief. I left some in for the sake of “the plot” but let’s trust that everyone has good intentions. The company mentioned is heavily inspired by Bellesa. This was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy a reverse sweepstakes!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist - link in bio or let me know!

“Thanks for coming in.” Erin shuts the door behind you as you take a seat across from her desk.

“Of course.” You have a scene to film after this meeting. It was no problem to come in a little early.

“So, as you know, we are running this sweepstakes for our subscribers to win a night with their favorite performer. You agreed to be one of the female options and even though the vast majority of our subscribers are women, one of our winners is a man and he chose you.”

“Oh wow.” You can’t help but be a little flattered. Everyone likes to be chosen.

“Yeah, so I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re ok to continue. I have his picture and basic info here.” She slides some paperwork across the desk, and you pick it up.

Looking back at you are the kindest brown eyes you think you’ve ever seen. He is wearing a baseball cap – hair curling around his ears – a scruffy beard, and a lopsided smile. His name is Francisco Morales.

“We’ve done a background check and everything like we talked about, and he looks good from our end. You still have the right to refuse, though,” Erin continues as you read over Francisco’s information.

“He’s cute. I’m not concerned. I can handle a night of mediocre sex with a civilian and make this guy’s dream come true.” It feels a little conceited to say it, but as an adult entertainer, you know you’re the subject of a lot of male fantasies. You also know that you are very good at what you do.

Erin laughs. “That’s very generous of you. Hopefully it won’t be too bad, but best to set expectations low.” She takes the papers back from you. “I know you have a scene to film upstairs. I’ll let you know when we get this scheduled.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Erin!” You push back from the desk and leave the office with a wave.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When the day arrives, you prepare like you would for any scene. You’re not more nervous than any other day when you’d be having sex with a new scene partner. You dress in your signature outfit of a crop-top and cut-off jean shorts, showing off your legs is never a bad idea.

When you arrive at the studio, you check in with Erin to go over Francisco’s final paperwork and reaffirm that all the company’s requirements around consent and safety have been met.

When everything is settled, you go to meet him in the filming room.

You open the door to a man pacing back and forth, worrying a baseball cap in his hands. Erin had warned you that he seemed nervous and not to expect him to be sitting eagerly on the bed waiting for you like your usual partners.

He looks up at you when he hears the door, panic written all over his features.

“Hi, Francisco, it’s nice to meet you.” You approach him cautiously, opening your arms for a hug.

He accepts the hug and you’re pleasantly surprised at the warm comfort of his broad shoulders and t-shirt-clad chest before pulling away.

“Call me Frankie,” he replies, running his fingers through his wavy hair.

“Frankie it is. How are you?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I just… I feel like such a creep.” He hangs his head and twists the hat in his hands. “The cameras…” he gestures to the tripods set up in the corners of the room. “They said they are partly to keep you safe… I… I shouldn’t be here.”

He was right about the cameras. Sweepstakes winners had the option of recording their encounter for private use, but in your case, the feed would also be monitored for your safety.

“I heard you chose to go for the recording option. I’m glad you did. I would have tried to change your mind before we started otherwise.” He glances up at you, surprised. “I like performing for cameras.” You shrug and one corner of his mouth twitches. You take it as a good sign.

“Look Frankie, I’m not going to make you stay, but I’d really like if we could talk for a minute.”

You sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you. Frankie relents and sits next to you, keeping a safe distance between your bodies. It’s endearing really, and warmth stirs in your chest.

“We’re both adults here, Frankie. I signed up for this too, you know. No one is forcing me to be here.”

Frankie lets out a long exhale and finally meets your gaze. “Thank you for saying that. It’s just a really strange situation and I got in my head about it.”

“Perfectly understandable. Why don’t you tell me why you entered the sweepstakes?”

He runs his hand through his hair again, it must be a nervous habit of his. It’s delightfully disheveled and you notice shades of caramel and gray woven through the dark brown waves. You allow your gaze to roam over his features. Aquiline nose. Pouty lips. He is a very handsome man. His picture didn’t do him justice.

“I’m not sure what I was thinking at the time, to be honest with you. I’m just a big fan.” He offers you that lopsided smile you first saw in his photo.

“You know, most of our subscribers are women, it’s kind of our thing. What lead you to us? And as a subscriber as well?”

“Good question,” he exhales again. “I really like the idea of supporting an ethical production company where I can know everyone involved is consenting. I don’t want to ever think someone has been coerced or treated badly while I’m… you know.” His ears turn pink, and it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.

“That’s important to me too,” you nod and scoot a little bit closer to him on the bed.

“I also like that the orgasms are real. I’m not interested in anyone... faking.” If his ears weren’t red before, they certainly are now. Along with his nose and cheeks.

It occurs to you that one of the other female performer options practically comes if you look at her. If Frankie had just wanted an ego boost tonight, he could have easily chosen her. It’s not that it’s difficult for you, but it is going to take some effort. It stirs your interest that he might be up to the challenge.

“Do you like making women come, Frankie?”

He nods and smiles a little, still looking down at the hat in his hands.

“Do you think you can make me come tonight?” You look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I’d certainly like to fucking try,” he looks directly into your eyes and the deep rumble of his voice turns the affectionate warmth in your chest into a building fire in your core. You move even closer so that your leg is touching his.

Frankie stares at the bare skin of your knee where it brushes against his jeans.

“Can I touch you, Frankie?”

He looks up at you and nods. So much want burning in his kind eyes.

You run your fingers through the hair at his temple and scratch your nails through his scruff. He leans into your hand and moans.

Oh fuck.

The sound shoots straight to your pussy.

“Can I touch you?” Frankie rasps.

“Yes, you can. But you need to lose the hat.”

He chuckles, dropping the misshapen hat on the floor before tentatively lifting his hand to place it on your leg. His hands are large, warm, and calloused. Sparks fly over your skin as he strokes your softness. You lean in slowly and press your lips to his cheek, then his mouth.

His plush lips part with a sigh. You turn his face towards you as you gently explore.

It’s been a while since you’ve just made out with someone. He seems to need you to go slowly and you certainly don’t want to spook him now that he is more relaxed. In your brief conversation you’ve become very curious about this man.

Frankie tentatively glides his hand over your clothed hip, barely letting his fingers caress the skin above the waistband of your shorts.

You guide him gently up onto the bed and stretch out along his long frame. He’s so warm and soft, you just want to snuggle into his chest.

It’s luxurious and unhurried and oh so hot.

You let out a contented sigh as you slide your hand under his shirt and up his back. His grip tightens on your hip, so you roll your hips towards him in response – encouraging him to touch you.

He receives the message, shifting his hand to palm your ass. You moan into his mouth and are rewarded with a strangled groan as his grip tightens. His rough fingertips skim the sensitive skin of your upper thigh sending shivers up your spine.

“You feel so good, Frankie,” you break away from his mouth as he trails kisses down your neck. “I want to feel more of you.”

You tug at his shirt and he reluctantly stops kissing you to pull it over his head. You are rewarded with a vision of golden skin over strong muscles. He’s slightly soft around the middle and it makes you want to see your teeth marks on his skin.

You sit up and quickly pull your crop top over your head and are reaching for the clasp of your bra, when he sits up and stills your hands.

“Let me, baby.”

“Whatever you want, Frankie.”

You place your hands on his chest as he traces his fingers over the cups and straps of your bra, watching goosebumps rise over your skin. It’s so sensuous and deliberate, you’re struggling not to whimper and you don’t even have your clothes off yet. When he reaches around to undo the clasp, you crowd into his chest and begin to lick and suck at his neck.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as you taste his skin. Delicious. You allow your bra to slide down your arms and off then reach for the button of his jeans. “Take these off.”

“In a minute,” Frankie replies and you scoff. This isn’t the nervous man you first met. You smile to yourself. He must be getting comfortable.

Turns out he needs a minute because he wants to explore your tits. He brushes his fingertips over your nipples, watching them tighten in response. He gathers you onto his lap, better to pull each bud into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around you, one breast at a time, palming the other with his large hands. It’s exquisitely, maddeningly slow. Your pussy aches as you try to find some friction through your shorts, but he’s holding you away from himself.

Frankie smiles around your tit as you whine and try to grind into him.

“You like this, huh?” you complain, clutching at his broad shoulders.

“Do I like making you sound like that? Yes, I do.” His voice rumbles pleasantly against your chest.

He finally relents, working his way up your neck and back to your mouth. You take control of the kiss, plunging your tongue into his mouth and nipping at his bottom lip. He lays back for you on the bed, settling with his head up against the headboard. You take the opportunity to undo the fly of his jeans.

“Can I have these now?” you tease.

“Only if I can have yours.” His gorgeous mouth pulls up into his signature lopsided grin.

“Deal.” You shimmy out of your shorts and underwear as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and tosses them on the floor.

You sit back on your heels and take in the gloriously naked man in front of you. His long legs stretch out on either side of your hips.

He’s not the polished, waxed, perfectly honed specimen of a man you often work with. You find that it’s perfectly ok with you, might even be preferable. He’s so real, splayed out and unselfconscious.

Broad, warm, soft at the edges, but hard where it matters.

And the way he’s looking at you… It gives you shivers. There’s a deep hunger in those brown eyes, but also patience and a surprising amount of control. You had expected this to be a pretty quick encounter, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. You squirm, noticing the wetness building in your center.

He watches you with hooded eyes as you slide your hands up his muscular thighs. His cock bobs eagerly against his stomach. He has a very nice cock. Possibly the best you’ve seen on a civilian, being a porn star does spoil you a bit in that regard.

His is nice and thick and plenty big enough to know he will feel really good.

You take him in your hand and stroke him up and down, licking your lips.

“You don’t ha…” he interrupts and you silence him with a look.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do, Frankie. Trust me.”

He nods and exhales, relaxing again against the headboard. His chest is delightfully flushed as he takes stuttering breaths with each stroke of your hand.

“You’re so pretty,” you praise him and watch as the flush creeps up his neck and blooms across his cheeks.

So fucking pretty.

Then you take him in your mouth.

His hips buck underneath you and he curses as he tries to still himself.

You pull out all the stops, giving him the slipperiest, deepest blow job you can.

You enjoy watching men come apart for you. It’s a shame so many of your scene partners are so used to it now, they don’t react the way Frankie does.

He fists his hands in the sheets. His mouth drops open. His chest rises and falls with ragged pants. The tendons in his neck strain as he tries to keep himself under control.

His cock is thick and heavy on your tongue. Just how you like it.

You take your time taking him apart.

He’s just so pretty.

At the first sign that his control is slipping, you slow down. Easing yourself off him and surveying the wrecked man in front of you with satisfaction.

You kiss your way up his tummy, nipping his soft flesh as you go. Your teeth marks look just as good as you hoped – little pink crescents on his golden skin. You continue up his chest and recapture his mouth for a hungry kiss.

You straddle his hips and line yourself up to sink down, when he grabs you and flips you over.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He pants into your mouth before kissing down your body, stroking your skin with his calloused fingers. He continues working his way down to your pussy making his intent clear. What a pleasant surprise.

You love oral sex and even sub-par oral, is still oral, right? You prop yourself up on your elbows and open your knees wide so you can watch as Frankie takes a long lick from your entrance to your clit.

You sigh in contentment. His mouth is warm, wet, and firm. So what if you don’t come, it still feels good.

You relax and let your head drop back as Frankie explores. He circles… sucks… nudges.

Ohhhh

Tightness coils in your belly and you look down at him with a gasp.

He’s good at this.

He’s looking up at you. Brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Then he winks.

He knows he’s good at this.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat, but are quickly pulled back under by the pleasure emanating from between your legs.

“Yes, Frankie. That feels so good,” you moan succumbing to the building pressure. You clench around nothing and are rewarded with a thick finger in your cunt.

“Fuuuuck,” you whine as he strokes in time with his tongue.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. You gonna come for me?” he rasps between licks. His scruff tickling your sensitive skin.

Who is this pussy-eating king who is better than some of the professionals you’ve worked with?

It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the coil winding tighter in your belly. The fluttering of your pussy. The stars sparking at the edge of your vision.

And suddenly you’re coming. Pulsing against his tongue as he works you through it. Groaning his own pleasure into your center.

As the waves subside, Frankie reclaims your mouth, dragging his cock through your slick folds, blocking out your vision with his broad shoulders. You pull him down to you, running your fingers through his hair and down along his muscular back.

“How do you want me, baby?” you ask him between nips at his bottom lip. You tilt your hips up to him and savor the rough grind of his cock between your legs.

“I want you every way, sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck and your heart does a little pitter patter. Just post-orgasm glow, you tell yourself.

“I want this to be a night to remember for you, Frankie. How about the porn star special?”

He pulls back from nuzzling your neck, amusement lifting one side of his face into that charming grin. “What’s the porn star special?”

You give him a mischievous grin, “Just follow my lead.”

Over the course of the evening, you lead Frankie through your repertoire. The kinds of hyper flexible positions he’ll only ever see in porn. You giggle your way through some of the more ridiculous ones when Frankie furrows his brow and questions what exactly anyone is supposed to be getting out of this.

You slow down when Frankie grabs your hips and hisses that he’s too close. You kiss across his chest and shoulders and from his neck to his soft tummy as he regains his composure. You take breaks for water and lube, teasing and laughing while you catch your breath.

You come more than once along the way. Frankie finds your clit and gives you the extra friction you need to tip over the edge. He stays with you, locked eyes and panted breath, through each one. You don’t think too hard about why each time you come, it’s while staring into those soulful eyes.

In the end, you find yourself on his lap, grinding your hips into him as he sits with his back against the headboard and his face between your tits. He feels so good in your pussy, filling you up just right.

It’s syrupy and slow, both of you worn out and rocking into each other. Frankie’s panted moans hot against your chest.

“Can I finish in you?” he pleads, sweaty curls plastered across his forehead.

“You don’t want to see your cum all over me?”

“No, no, I need to feel you around me when I come, sweetheart, please,” he begs. “I need your perfect pussy.” As if you would deny him that.

You brush his hair away from his face and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Of course, Frankie. Fill me up.”

Frankie practically growls as he tips you backwards on to the bed. He positions himself above you, grasping your leg as he drives into you in long, firm strokes.

He pours every last ounce of his energy into you, finally allowing himself to chase the climax you’ve been edging him towards all evening. He presses his forehead to yours while he slams into you at a relentless pace. So close. So deep. Your climax hovers on the horizon once again.

“Come with me Frankie,” you whimper. He groans and stutters in response. You watch his face contort into pure bliss and it tips you over the edge with him.

Such a beautiful sight.

Maybe you need a copy of this video too.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frankie waits on the sidewalk for his Uber, resting his back against the non-descript building and letting the memories of the evening replay in his mind.

After the scene, you had both cleaned up. The bed was a mess, but you had assured him that it was ok, it came with the business.

You were more wonderful than he ever could have imagined. So beautiful, sexy, and fun. You had been so kind and complimentary after. He didn’t know how to end the evening… to say goodbye. He stammered his thanks when you gave him a hug and a final kiss as you showed him where he could take a shower before he left for the night.

When he’d come out, you were already gone.

Just a memory now.

One he would revisit often.

Thank fuck he agreed to the video.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. The Uber is probably close by. He pulls it out absently, brain still hazy and sex-addled.

There’s a message from an unknown number:

I hope you don’t mind, I convinced Erin to give me your number. I had a great time tonight. Call me sometime ;-)

A slow smile spreads over his face. Maybe not just a memory after all.

- - - - - - - - -

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal

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deadhumourist · 4 months

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Hi! Would you consider writing more Oberyn x reader? Love the rescue mini fic you did and would love to see more!!!!

Hi there! Of course I would, and I'm so happy you enjoyed Rescue 😌. If there's anything specific you'd like to see, slide into my inbox, otherwise I'll think of something 🤔

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #oberyn martel x reader

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deadhumourist · 6 months

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So move me baby. Shake like the bough of a willow tree, you do it naturally, move me baby…💜

-Movement, Hozier

You wanted it, here you are you lovely wackos. Isn’t it amazing how wholesome he can look no matter fucking what? That’s true baby girl power right there and I don’t understand it but GODDAM do I love it.

He’s a very pretty boy and it’s honestly stupid how many hours I put into this thing, so if you like what you see PRETTY PLEASE reblog, follow, etc., there’s plenty more things to come!

Truly can’t overstate how much every single person who reblogged/commented on my last post deserves this and more. You all made my day so fucking much and I wanna give you all a loving boop on the nose✨ have a brilliant day everyone I love ya

This is the way.

#bloody wowzer this is amazing #I need this in several dimensions and also as home art because reasons #din djarin #the mandalorian

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deadhumourist · 8 months

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Pedro Boys & Sex Sounds

Clearly, I have thought about this waaaay too much. Thoughts. Thots? Head canons… I dunno what this is. Lack of an actual life? 🤔 Quite possibly.

But I hope you get a giggle out of it nonetheless. 🖤

☝🏻I'll mention that this is probably NSFW... it's kinda tame-ish, but just incase.

Joel Miller - Grunter.

Joel is a rabid grunter. Oh yeah. Grunts, snarls, snorts, you name it. But he's not infected. You're safe. Just sounds likes he is when they roll and rumble out of him. Right in your ear so he makes sure you can hear what you do to him, darlin'. Joel's also a bit of a goer. He can last pretty good. But due to his advancing years, he can soften quickly, but he stays harder for longer if you're on top grinding onto your big guy. Then he gets to look up at you and those grunts, man. They just snuffle endlessly out of his nose and into your face as you lean forward to kiss him. Overuses the word 'fuck' when he comes. Fuck yeah... Fuck baby... Fuck. Fuck... So fuckin' good... Fuck, you're killin' me, darlin'... Fuck! Fuck darlin'... FUCK! And so on. Absolutely no clicking involved. Unless it's from turning the vibrator on.

Frankie Morales - Stammerer.

Frankie moans a lot. Makes all manner of ungodly noises when he sucks his fingers clean, licks his lips, nips on your neck… Hums in abject satisfaction at a job so well done. Grizzly, hungry moans roll up from the back of his throat. Frankie likes to be close up in your face watching as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you. Frankie's a hella attentive lover (hail the pussy eating king 👑) that he wants to know what feels good for you. Wants to learn your body controls and dials, and all those things that make you propel for him as he makes you fly. That feel good, hermosa? You like that? Yeah, look at you taking my cock like that… Fuck, I can't get enough of this pussy. Frankie can be a bit of a talker during sex, but is nowhere near as annoying as Ezra. When Frankie comes, he stammers in both clumsy English and Spanish inflections as he forgets what dimension he's in for a second or two. May need to be flown out. Standby, pilot.

Ezra - Rambler.

Ezra won't shut the fuck up. Even when doing the nasty. We all know that Ezra likes to talk and he'd be as equally vocal in the sack. He wants to tell you what he's going to do to you in sordid detail. Then will tell what he's doing to you, as he's uh, doing it to you in sordid detail. You get a full blow by blow - if you'll forgive the pun - of your fuck session. With subtitles. He can be soft too, this man is multi-faceted like Aurelac gems. When he's gentle, he's like descriptive poetry; sweet and candescent and all about your pleasure. He's a connoisseur for filthy, dirty talk. Ezra says all the right, rancid, disgustingly perverted things in your ear between gritted teeth. He's also a growler. He'll grunt too. Lots of swears will flow out of him really fast like garbled gibberish as he comes. Fuckfuckfuckshit!OhKevvashitahfuckohshitohshotohshit! Almost like he can't believe it's happening, bless him. I mean, it's been a while, stranded on The Green...

Marcus Pike - Huffer.

Marcus fogs your eyes up with those breathy huffs like the Little Engine That Could. Marcus is a leg twitcher. A leg tenser. Either way, when he comes his leg tightens or stiffens. Or breaks. Easy there, bud. Marcus tenses right up and does a little shudder. If he's jerking off solo, then that leg rises up a little and bends at the knee. If it's a hard orgasm then his knee might even click with the strain. Those little breathy moans chug and puff from his nose regardless. And you can bet he'll get a cramp in his leg too if he's going at it for a while. Has to switch positions regularly because of it. Not caused by an injury; the guy just gets too fucking excited that parts of his body just lock up. This guy is the maestro of making love. He'll prefer to spend hours fawning over you rather than quick fuck sessions. Because he's so husband like that.

Oberyn Martell - Hummer.

Exhibitionist Oberyn wants everyone to know that he's taking you to pleasure town. Groans. Whines. Grunts. Even hisses like a viper. Can be a little nasally as he breathes, and when he comes he almost gasps. Eyes roll into the back of his head with the pleasure of it all. Neck cords strain and he may even pull out a croon-like laugh of satisfaction as he watches you come undone as he spills that sumptuous, bastard seed inside you. Screw the Iron Throne, the only throne you need is this man's face. He'll give you that smarmy eyebrow arch as you come down because you both know he just utterly fucked your shit up. And so does everyone else in the brothel. Que the applause.

Javier Peña - Hisser.

We all know what Javier Peña looks like when he fucks (thank you very much Narcos 🥲). Javier bears his teeth when he fucks hard. Growls and grunts. Pants and moans. Small, pitched whines will flow out between his teeth and curled lips as he comes. He's a jolter too. Hips will jolt and twitch into you as he empties. Thighs will jerk. When he's making love and not fucking, and there is a difference, cariño, Javier's breaths are more laboured, controlled. More nasally sounding and deep. You'll hear them in your ear as he kisses and licks around them. He'll utter Spanish obscenities delicately to you in that soft, gravelly tone that haunts your blood. He could be telling you how to parallel park for all you care. Either way, it sounds utterly delicious. Oof.

Marcus Moreno - Panter.

Marcus is in pretty good shape from fucking up supervillains on the daily, so when he gets his sexy on, he hardly breaks a sweat. 💪🏻But he does pant. Gentle, raspy pants that flutter into your mouth as you swallow them down like powerups. He'll moan around your lips because you feel so good squeezing him like that; he'll barely last much longer as he tightens on your hips to control your pace. The embarrassment of losing a life if he comes too soon isn't worth it. This gentle daddy knows how to rock your world and take you to new heights.

Dave York - Grunter.

Dave can be a talker when he's in the mood to play dirty and has the time. More often than not though it's a quickie in the shower before the girls are up, or late at night when he comes home after moonlighting as a murder daddy under your nose. He'll climb into bed next to you and he can't sleep. So he'll slip inside you and wake you up as he's grunting softly inside your ear and growling gently as you turn to kiss him whilst he plunders deeper. He presses his mouth hard against yours to quell your moans and whines so the girls don't wake up. When he comes, his jaw locks, he grinds on his teeth and growls out between them. His eyes close and he won't open them until he's fully empty. He often falls asleep almost immediately afterwards as he's satiated - and fucking exhausted from living a double life.

Dieter Bravo - Wheezer.

Dieter likes to know it feels good for you, and also likes to tell you how good you feel around his cock. Most of the time he's high, so sex is a whole ethereal experience. Sometimes he's even present for it. Lots of oh wows and fuck yeahs mutter out of him. He's quite chill, his hips do most of the work but he can tire easily so likes you to take the reins and ride. Partying hard is catching up with Mr Bravo. But he lives for sex of the kinky variety. It's weird and he likes it. But when he comes, his back tenses and he fists the sheets or whatever he can squeeze at the time. Dieter wheezes like he's out of breath, particularly after a hard session. It's all the shit that he smokes on the regular. He'll also hack up a bit afterwards, coughing into the pillow as he tries to catch his breath. Be trained in CPR and adrenaline injections, just in case.

Agent Whiskey - Crooner.

Another talker. That feel good, darlin'? Let me see you. Eyes on me, sweet thing. Christ, look at you. So fucking gorgeous, darlin'. That's it now, work it. Like that. Aw hell yeah, like that. Ride it, baby! Who can resist that smooth cowboy, huh? Whiskey will always be smirking around those wet, moustached lips as he watches you fall apart and coaxes you through it. He moans softly with lots of yeahs thrown into the mix. He's a true Southern gent; likes to make you feel good. Likes to know he's making you nut. He'll make mince meat outta your insides. Then when he comes, he likes to tell you, naturally. Oh, you got me shakin', baby. I'mma need to calm down for a sec. Fuckin' Christ.

Din Djarin - Panter.

When Din has his helmet on, you hear his breath whooshing fiercely against the inside of it. The modulator will only increase the gravelness of his breathing and make it louder. Like holding a shell to your ear and you can hear the ocean? Yeah. He crashes over you like thunderous waves. On the rare occasion that Din removes his helmet, he bears his teeth, bites down on his lip (and yours too as he lets it go with a squelchy pop) as he comes hard and whines out in a squally, panting moan that fills the Razor Crest. Luckily, Luke is babysitting The Kid. Sex with Din is like surround sound. You hear every delicious noise he makes. This is the way, mesh'la.

Pero Tovar - Grunter.

Pero fucks likes he eats - like he never will again. Fast, clumsy and handsy. A little bit of the animalistic about him. He needs the release, but needs you to release first. His partner always comes first, despite his less-than-gentlemanly ways at times. Grunty, deep breaths bounce up from out of his ribs, almost like he's wheezing. When he comes he growls and mutters incoherently. Words literally fail him as his jaw goes slack and his body flops over onto yours as he pants into your face, and it takes him a moment to remember where he is and that his supper is still waiting for him. Pero is a man that always goes back for seconds.

Maxwell Lord - Screamer.

Max takes the only position for the guy who is most likely to holler and actually scream louder than you do when he comes. Makes loud, high pitched cries and pants that sound faster and more garbled the closer he gets towards blowing his load. The excitement in him just comes out, he can't help it. He'll pant and clutch at his invisible pearls as though he can't believe the audacity of you riding hard on him. Mouth open, starry eyes and wails rising in tempo. This would-be supervillain has been well and truly subdued. He loves every second of it though. Especially when you lasso him up with rope.

Comandante Veracruz - Murmurer.

Controlled breaths. Slick smirks. Deep pants. Veracruz is a man in charge that knows what the fuck he is doing to you as he drives deep and ploughs you into the sweaty mattress in his jungle hideout. Favourite position is probably the mating press or from behind. The man likes it deeeeP. He's a smarmy bastard even when he's fucking. Taunting. You want this cock, baby? You want more, hmm? When Veracruz comes he shudders; the veins in his arms and wrists tense. You bet those cords in his neck pop too, pow, pow! Growls, bears his teeth and presses his clammy forehead into yours as he empties. Then softly murmurs into your face that you're his and only his, menancingly. But you love it. It's called Stockholm Syndrome, sweetheart.

Silva - Silent.

Silva doesn't need to make any noise at all. All that escapes is a small, ragged breath that catches in the back of his throat, that you barely hear, ebb out of him. Doesn't mean he's not enjoying it by not being vocal - this wild gun is absolutely loving it - but more so that he's completely lost in the awe of how good you're making him feel right in that moment. Stunned and drowning in euphoria. Lips part with a silent groan, just the barest husk escapes him as he edges closer to the drop. Then a small grunt as though he's clearing his dry throat, and a soft nasal whoosh is heard when he finally lets go and finds his way back to you.

Javi G - Giggler.

Javi G giggles when he comes. Don't try to tell me he doesn't. Sometimes he can't stop and you end up tittering with him. I mean, sex is supposed to be a little funny, right? Even when he jerks off alone, a little giggle slips from his lips; it just feels too fucking good not to smile and chuckle like he's five years old and just discovered his junk for the first time all over again. During the act, sweet Javi G is all up in your grill wanting to know how good it feels, hermosa. Searching into your eyes as he moves and shifts to get deeper inside you. Adjusts how he touches you. Watching for your reactions and giving you more of the things that make you appear like a cross-eyed mutt he wants to pet. Javi G is a feeder - he wants to feed you the utmost pleasure. And then giggle incessently like a little girl when he finishes inside you.

🖤

#scary accurate #not me saying YES everytime I move to a new chatacter

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