#pedro pascal x reader smut
Text
yours truly and forever || j. miller
summary: you find ellie and joel in need of help, desperately. you take care of the two, when affection for joel creeps up on you and you can’t shake it. he can’t stay, but maybe, if you don’t think too hard about it, that won’t matter.
an extension from the end of episode six, “kin”.
warnings: female reader, kinda reference to the events of the game, so potential spoilers for the season i guess?, angst, smut, smut with feels, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink (?), half proofread, not as feral as what i usually write? kinda soft sex. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 5.6k (i think this is officially my longest fic???)
A/N: episode six destroyed me on a different level. didn’t stop my thirst tho. also, i am NOT a medical professional so the terminology and stuff is probably not correct. tried my best.
here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!
“I think we’re safe.” Joel’s weak body slumped off the horse, falling into the snow. “Joel, no, no, no! Shit,” Ellie cursed as she dismounted the horse and scrambled to him. She called his name to no avail, using his hands to cover the festering wound on his abdomen. “Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up,” she pleaded. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel! Please. Joel, please.”
She sat fisting his collar, pleading for him to open his eyes, when she heard the sound of hooves shuffling through the snow. She first thought Shimmer had run off. Whipping around, the horse was right where she left it. The panic that was already coursing through her became more potent. She reached for her gun, ducking in the snow next to Joel. She could almost taste her fear on her tongue as a figure on a black horse trotted over to Shimmer. Reaching out a hand to stroke Shimmer’s muzzle, the figure said, “Hey, girl. Where’d you come from?” It was a woman’s voice. Ellie clutched her gun, just the way Joel had taught her. The woman dismounted her horse, boots crunching in the snow as she walked around Shimmer. When her gaze trailed down to the young girl with a gun pointing at her, she brought her hands up slowly, non-threateningly.
“Stay back!” Ellie shouted. She couldn’t see much of the woman, a bandana covering her neck, reaching under her eyes. She had a hat on, one of the ones Maria had worn in Jackson. She was well bundled for the weather, Ellie noted. Must live around here.
“I’m not here to hurt you. Just saw a stray horse. Thought someone might need help, is all,” you said, hands still in the air. “And it looks like I was right.”
Ellie glanced towards Joel. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill us? Fucking eat us, or something?” She spat.
You laughed, “I’m not going to eat you. That’s what my cattle and crops are for.” You told her your name. “I’ve got a house just a few miles up. I was doing a perimeter check before I found you, actually. It’s secure. I can help your dad there.”
Ellie didn’t bother correcting you. Instead, she contemplated taking you up on your offer. Well, if she didn’t go with you, Joel was dead. If Joel died, she might as well be dead too. “Fine.”
“Will you lower your gun so I can help him?”
She put her gun down, watching as you calmly moved towards Joel, hiking him up over your shoulder and situating him on top of your horse. You sat behind him, his weight fully leaning against you, as Ellie mounted her horse. “This way,” you said, pressing your calf into your horse’s ribcage to get her to go. Ellie followed close behind as you led her to your home.
“Why’re you helping us?” Ellie asked when you were about halfway there.
You took a few seconds to answer. “There was a time when I needed someone to help me, but nobody would. This way, come on.”
You put the passcode into the keypad, opening the gate, gesturing for Ellie and Shimmer to go in first. You followed her, instructing her towards the large white house that sat in the middle of the property. When you got to the porch, you dismounted the horse and placed the man back over your shoulder, climbing up the steps. Ellie dismounted too, looking for some place to tie the lead.
“Don’t worry about that. Fence goes all around the place. Come help me open this door,” you said, occupied with trying not to let him fall from your shoulders. His frame was much bigger than yours, making it difficult to balance. Ellie twisted the nob and pushed the door open. You found your couch immediately, laying him down as gently as you could, shoving a pillow under his head. “Stay here with him. I’m gonna go grab my kit.”
She waited there with Joel until you returned, squeezing his hand, praying for him to wake up. Praying that they were safe here.
When you returned, you were carrying a giant leather bag. She had expected a simple first aid kit. At her puzzled expression, you said, “Normally, I’m doing surgery on the horses or cows, not men.” She nodded in understanding.
As you set up with bedpans, scalpels, scissors, gauze, anything you might need, Ellie took a moment to look around. Hung on your walls were portraits of anything and everything. She’d always loved art, never having the time to really explore it herself. This place didn’t look like it was home to someone who was gonna slaughter them. “I’m Ellie,” she said, making you turn from your stool by the couch. “That’s Joel.”
You gave a reassuring smile. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Now, you pulled down the fabric from your mouth and threw your hat down on the floor, shucking your jacket off too, hoping it would make you less intimidating to the young girl. “Might wanna get comfortable. This’ll take awhile.
Ellie made herself a home on the loveseat adjacent to the couch Joel was on, taking her jacket off and laying it next to her backpack. “How did this even happen?” you asked as you sanitized your tools.
“He got stabbed,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He didn’t even notice at first. He…” she trailed off. You gave her a look of understanding.
You cleaned the area and got to work. You were happy that he was unconscious. All you had was horse tranquillizer, and you were almost positive that it would kill him. Joel twitched and squirmed a little, but you were calm as you worked.
Ellie’s eyelids were drooping and her head was falling when she heard you say, “All done,” as you wiped your bloody hands on a rag. She got up to get a look at Joel. His bloodied shirt and jacket were off, showing the wound on his abdomen, all stitched up. “See that area around the wound?” You said, fingers gently grazing over the skin. “It’s pink. Means there’s probably an infection. I’ll see what I have, but I don’t think I have enough antibiotics,” you said as you cleaned the blood from your tools. You saw a look of disappointment in her eyes.
“But,” you started, “there’s an old pharmacy a mile or two from here. I can go tomorrow. See what they have.” She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Come on, help me get him upstairs.”
The two of you took him to one of the guest bedrooms, laying him down on the bed. You slid his thick jacket back on, but left it unzipped so you could easily redress his wound. “I can show you to the other guest room. Mind, I don’t usually have visitors, so it’s-”
“No,” Ellie cut you off. She flushed. “Thanks, but I’m staying with him.” You nodded. She didn’t want him to wake up alone.
“Alright, then. There are blankets in the closet over there,” you pointed. “My room is across the hall, at the end. If he wakes up or something is wrong, come get me. I’m leaving for the pharmacy at dawn, so help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can shower if you want, too. If he wakes when I’m gone tomorrow, don’t leave. I’ll need to give him those antibiotics as soon as I get back.” She nodded. You began to walk out of the room, but she stopped you by calling your name. You turned.
“Earlier, you said that there was a time when you needed help, and nobody would give it to you…?”
You sighed. “A while back, about ten years ago, before I settled here, I was travelling with some people and my little brother. He ended up getting shot. His leg. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and…they just left us there. Left him there to die,” you swallowed, looking down at your feet. She looked at you, offering a sad smile. “Night, Ellie. Get some sleep.”
You returned around noon the next day with the antibiotics for Joel. Announcing yourself when you walked in, Ellie came stumbling down the stairs. You took in her wet hair and changed clothes. There was hope in her eyes, but also urgency. “He woke up! Just for a little while. He was pretty out of it, but he asked where we were,” she said.
“And what’d you tell him?” You said as you took your outerwear off and grabbed your bag with the antibiotics.
“I told him we were safe. He wasn’t awake long enough to give him the full story, but now he’s all sweaty, and mumbling and shit and-”
“Shit,” you cursed, rushing up the stairs past the girl.
“Wait, what is it?” she called after you.
“Sounds like he’s got a fever. Could have delirium, too,” you said as you entered the room Joel was in. He was clammy, sweating, chest heaving, body radiating an ungodly heat, mumbling incoherencies. You moved his jacket to the side. “Looks like the infection is spreading,” you mumbled. Grabbing the syringe and bottle from your bag, you filled the syringe, sticking it into the pink flesh of Joel’s stomach.
“He’ll need another dose in a few hours. It probably won’t kick in until the second or third dose,” you said, wiping the sweat from his head and neck with a rag. You turned to Ellie, who’s eyes were fixed on Joel, yet distant. “Hey, did you eat yet?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, then,” you said as you led her to the kitchen.
Four days passed before Joel woke up. Four days spent mostly at his bedside, reading some book in between administering his doses. Making sure Ellie was fed. On the second day, Joel woke briefly again, panicking. However, Ellie was able to calm him down, reassuring him that they were safe. On the third day, you got through to Ellie a bit more.
“So, what brought you two this far out?” you asked innocently, closing your book and resting it on your lap. She seemed to freeze.
“We, uh…we were looking for Joel’s brother. We ended up near the university and got ambushed,” she said. She was lying. That was fine. You couldn’t really blame her. You hummed in response.
It was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again, “He’s not my dad, you know.”
You offered her a soft smile. “Okay.” You went back to reading your book.
On the fourth day, when Joel woke up, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes left from your lunch with Ellie. A few hours ago you had re-dressed his wound and given him another round of antibiotics. The angry pink of his skin was subsiding and he was no longer feverish, resting peacefully on the bed. You hummed to yourself as you scrubbed the plates in the soapy water.
Hearing two voices from upstairs, you dried your hands on a dish rag and made your way upstairs. The deep, gruff voice halted as your footsteps sounded out against the hallway floor.
“It’s safe, I promise. I trust her.” Ellie’s voice, pleading. A grunt.
You turned the corner with a polite smile, resting against the doorframe. You took the man in, greying hair dishevelled, sat up, staring daggers at you.
“Good to see you awake,” you said, telling him your name.
“How long was I out for?” he asked, his voice a gruff southern accent, but still laced with distrust. He was on edge.
“Five days.”
He looked at Ellie, who nodded. He groaned, eyes training back to you. “Where’s my stuff?”
“Ellie has it all in the other room. Your horse is in my stable.”
“Then we’ll be on our way,” he said, attempting to get himself up, a groan of pain ripping through his chest as you walked forward, pushing him back down by the chest.
“Hold on, cowboy. You were stabbed. You have an infection. You’re in no shape to go back out there. Besides, there’s a storm rolling in soon.” You reached to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of antibiotics and the syringe.
He looked at Ellie. “She’s telling the truth. She found us when you fell off the horse. She brought us back here. Stitched you up and shit. She even went out to get you those antibiotics. She’s the reason the both of us aren’t dead. She’s been feeding me and everything,” Ellie said, then quieter, “I trust her.”
Joel looked you up and down. You held up the syringe, asking silent permission to give him another dose. “Fine,” he grunted.
It took a few weeks for Joel’s infection to heal and for the winter blizzard to pass. After about a week of bedrest, as prescribed by you, Joel was walking around with Ellie, going to the dining room for meals rather than you bringing them to the bed, and even helping you with small tasks. The truth is, Joel felt indebted to you for saving his life. For taking care of Ellie. For going so far out of your way to bring them safety. After a while, he was able to trust you.
But there was more. As he helped you put away the dishes, your fingers would brush as he passed you a plate, the air between you two going still. You’d be silent for a few moments, continuing your task, before picking conversation back up as though nothing happened. You’d be out in the stable together, brushing the horses. One of them would whinny and you’d genty laugh. He found your laugh infectious, finding a smile spreading across his face and a chuckle falling from his lips. When you caught his eye, he’d flush, looking back at Shimmer. She’d nudge him with her muzzle, as if to prompt him to say something more to you. He never would. Or maybe it was the time you were eating dinner with him and Ellie, pouring yourself and Joel wine. You had reached over to give him his glass, knocking yours onto yourself in the process. You had cursed, lifting your shirt over your head, white undershirt untouched by the stain. You didn’t miss the way Joel looked away, warmth rising up his neck. Ellie didn’t miss it either, as she held in a laugh and nudged him suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. You didn’t say anything.
Between the lingering touches, the fleeting glances, and the burning moments, you knew that there was something unspoken that hung thick in the air between you and Joel.
After three months, Joel was fully healed. The storm lasted about a month, the last winds finally subsiding. Ellie had slept in. It was just you and Joel having coffee. You leaned against the counter. He sat at the table, facing you. You were making light and easy conversation, as it usually was between you two.
He cleared his throat and looked into the liquid in his mug. “We’ll be outta your hair in about a week, if that’s okay. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You began to protest, but he cut you off, “You’ve already done so much for us,” his voice was like honey, thick and smooth. There was some kind of resistance mixed in with it. “Don’t worry about us, darlin’.” The name rolled easily off his tongue. It was a recent development, always something endearing. You figured it was just his way of showing he trusted you.
You huffed. There was no arguing with him when his mind was set on something. “Alright, then. Take any supplies you need. We’ll load up your horse the night before you leave,” you said, pouring the rest of your coffee down the drain and leaving the kitchen. Joel caught the hint of…something, in your voice. Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? He recalled a conversation he heard you having with Ellie about two weeks back.
“Doesn’t it get lonely out here? All by yourself all the time?”
A brief silence. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
Joel thought he was doing what was best by ignoring the searing touches and stolen glances, ignoring the feelings in the pit of his stomach. He thought that growing attached to you would only hurt the both of you. He knew he was right, but he began to wonder if you might be worth the pain.
That night, after you had bid Joel goodnight and Ellie was already asleep, you sat on your bed, in your thoughts, when soft knocking came from your door. “Come in,” you called out. The door opened and you looked up to see Joel. There was something behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt?
He approached you slowly, “May I?” You nodded. He took a seat next to you at the edge of your bed.
How was he supposed to start?
“I, uh,” he sighed. “I’m not very good at this. And I know we aren’t leavin’ just yet. But I wanted to, uh, thank you. For helpin’ me. Us. We’d both be dead if it weren’t for you. And for your hospitality.” He looked at his hands resting on his lap. “You’re a real good person for that.”
You just shrugged and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Silence hung thick in the air between you two.
He cleared his throat, getting up from the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll get-”
“Why won’t you stay?” Your eyes met his, brows furrowed, something anxious brewing behind them.
“I’ve gotta get the girl to her people,” was the only thing he could offer. He felt at a loss. You just nodded, standing in front of him.
“Am I ever gonna see you again?” It was more of a plea than a question.
Joel swallowed. “I don’t know.”
Your gaze drifted down to the floor. “What happens if you get hurt again, and there’s nobody like me there to help you?”
In an unexpected move, both by you and him, he grabbed your face with his hands. “I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” Your hands slid atop his.
“You don’t know that.”
He began to lean in. “I don’t know,” he said, his breath warm across your lips. “All I know is that now I’ve got somethin’ to come back for, someone I-”
“Don’t tell me you want me,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell me you want me now, when you’re about to leave.” He closed his eyes. Your hands fell from his. You moved out of his hold. “I can’t do this.”
The loss of his hands on your skin felt sore, wrong, but you knew that if you let him touch you, he’d hook you in, and it would hurt all the more to say goodbye in one week’s time.
“Please,” you whispered, eyes closed, a single tear streaming down your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body leave, hear him close the door gently behind him.
You didn’t rest much that night.
Every day for a week, you rose early, making breakfast for Ellie and settling back in your room to sit with yourself. Peering out of the window every day, you couldn’t help but stare out at the snowy planes of Colorado, taking in the austere, frozen environment you’d settled in. The desolate feel of the earth around you only made you realize how lonely you had been before Joel and Ellie had showed up, longing for something, anything, but always left unfulfilled. In Ellie’s bright smile and Joel’s unspoken touches, you thought that you might’ve landed a few companions who could keep your soul warm in the winter. It felt like you had lost something when you realized that wasn’t the case.
When you ventured throughout the house to shower, cook, or do household work, you found yourself tiptoeing, almost like you didn’t want to get caught. You savoured your conversations with Ellie, but you kept your words to Joel down to necessity. Short responses to his questions, shorter replies to yours. Never touching, in fear that the friction, like electricity, would spark something that neither of you could stop. Holding your breath when he was close to you. Avoiding eye contact. Never giving more than you had to. You both thought it would be easier to part this way, the fire growing in your insides unsatiated.
The night before he was set to leave, you found Joel in the kitchen, rough fingers silently brushing over a map laid out on the table.
He jumped at the sound of your voice, “I’m gonna go get your horse set with the things you’ll need.” He turned to you.
“I’ll come give you a hand,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and grabbing his coat.
The walk to the stable was thick with tension, the dense silence lingering between the two of you. The sun was out, casting the image of your shadows on the crunchy snow. When you reached the large door, you slid it open, letting him go first. You still couldn’t look at him.
You trailed behind him as he moved towards Shimmer, grabbing her saddle and slinging it over her back, fastening it. You knew Joel carried all of his guns on his person, so you began filling the saddlebags with medical supplies, ammo, water, cord, tape, anything you had stockpiled that might help him and Ellie get to where they needed to.
“All set,” you said, fingers running over Shimmer’s mane.
“Thank you,” Joel breathed. He was looking at you, searching for your eyes. You could feel it.
You nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” A few moments of rigid silence. “Leaving at dawn?” The question fell past your lips before you could think about it.
You saw him nod out of your peripherals. “Yeah.”
You give a nod, lips pursed. Still looking at Shimmer. Still avoiding his gaze.
“Will you look at me?” He said suddenly, voice demanding, but ultimately soft.
You didn’t obey, looking at your feet instead. “Why?”
“It’s been a week. I know you’re givin’ me the cold shoulder, but at least look at me. Don’t act like you hate me. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”
You blew out a puff of warm air. “If I look at you…” you started, nearly losing your gall. “If I look at you, I’ll forget that I’m trying to let you go.”
The words were thick, heavy. They hung between you two as if they were forbidden.
“Then don’t let me go,” he said, taking a step towards you.
You said his name in a warning, taking a few steps towards the door.
“You don’t have to let me go. I know I’m never gonna stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, honey. And I can’t promise that you’ll see me again, but I’m damn well goin’ to try to make it back to you.”
You sniffled, “You don’t mean that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“I do. I mean it with all of myself,” he said, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me show you.”
Once again, you could feel his breath on your lips. His were just inches from yours, almost touching, but never quite close enough. You finally looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.
“I can’t give you much, but let me give you what I can,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead into yours harder, more desperately.
At that, you broke. “Okay,” you breathed.
He took that as permission to lean himself into you, the skin of his lips grazing yours, breath mixing with his. When he finally connected his lips to yours, it was like he breathed a warmth into your body, lighting every nerve. Your hands tangled in his hair, his cupping your face. The kiss started chaste, but became breathy and passionate. It ended with your lips red and swollen, both of you needy and desperate for something more. Always more.
The rush through the snow, through the front door and up the stairs to your bedroom was needy, your hand in his, dragging you behind him, nearly sprinting with anticipation.
As Joel was locking your bedroom door behind him, you were fisting the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Your mouth opened wider for his tongue to explore, whines muffled by his mouth. The kiss was all the things you couldn’t say, I want you, I love you, stay.
He walked you backwards into your bed, falling on top of you when your legs hit the edge. Your hands found solace in his hair, tugging just right, making him groan into your mouth. He parted from you to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. Now, your fingertips explored the expanse of his chest and soft stomach, soft pads tracing the scar that brought you to him. Kissing into your mouth, across your neck, sucking at your pulse point, his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt.
“Can I?” He asked between kisses to your collarbone. You nodded, lifting so he could pull it off.
“Take it off,” you said, left just in your bra. His fingers reached behind you to unclasp it, pulling it off and revealing your tits. He barely hesitated, taking one in his warm mouth and palming the other. Your hands fixed back in his hair, moaning. “Joel. Fuck, I need you. Please,” you whimpered. After weeks of building up the tension, of his fingers tracing your skin just for them to stop, staring at his lips and yearning, you needed him. More than anything.
Joel groaned. “Beggin’ so pretty already for me, honey,” he said as he moved down your body, undoing your belt, sliding it off with your pants and chucking them to the ground. His fingers smoothed over your panties, noticing the wet spot growing in the centre. He grinned, “Let’s see how wet you are, hmm?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he could almost moan at the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through your slick folds, brushing your clit gently, sending a shiver shooting through your spine. “This wet already? All for me?”
When you didn’t answer, he pinched the inside of your thigh gently, “Answer, honey.”
“All for you. Only for you, Joel.” You were breathless, nearly delirious. You’d give anything for him to touch you, to put you out of your misery.
Joel eased one finger inside of you, then two, and began pumping them in and out of your slick folds. You moaned wantonly, all shame abandoned. “That’s it, pretty girl. Takin’ my fingers so well. Squeezin’ them so good. Can just imagine how you’re gonna feel wrapped ‘round my cock.”
You could feel the knot in your core get tighter and tighter every time his fingers hit that spot inside you, obscene noises coming from your cunt. He could feel you sucking his fingers in, growing tighter around him. He eased a third finger in and used his other hand, previously squeezing into your thigh, to rub circles on your clit. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you sputtered, getting closer and closer.
“That’s it, honey. Cum on my fingers. There it is,” he said as you clenched around his digits, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He rubbed the flesh of your thighs as you came down, kissing the supple flesh of your thighs. When you caught your breath, you pulled him back up into you.
You began to notice the firm tent pressing against you. Surely, he was begging for release, too. Who were you to deprive him of that?
“Your turn,” you said.
Flipping him over, you began to undo his belt and slide his pants off, laying your head on his thigh, when he stopped you, resting a hand on your jaw.
“Honey, if you put me in your mouth, ‘m not gonna last,” he says, slightly flushed, chest heaving just as bad as yours. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked similarly to how he did when he was feverish. Delirious. “Just wanna be inside you. That okay?”
“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, crawling back onto him. This time, he flipped you over, caging you between his arms. He shuffled his boxers off, his hard length springing out and hitting his lower stomach, tip weeping precum. You couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck, you’re big.” He chuckled, flushing a little. “How’re you gonna fit inside me?”
“Relax, honey. I worked you open. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” he assured you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Ready?”
“Yes,” you breathed. “Need to feel you. For so long.”
He lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, letting it out in a moan as he sunk into your waiting cunt. He groaned when he was fully sheathed inside you, the sound coming deep from his chest.
He kissed you as you took him in, your body accommodating his length. “Move. Please,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled out, sliding back in with the help from your slick. He set a slow but hard pace, clutching your body to his as he speared in and out of you. His lips barely left yours, sucking in each other’s moans and converting them to breath.
“So tight, fuck,” he moaned. “Already clenching around me. Feels so good around me, pretty thing.”
You moaned his name, a needy, desperate call for him to go faster. He picked up his pace, breath becoming erratic, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin.
“Not gonna last long, honey,” he groaned.
“Neither am I. Cum inside of me, please. I want all of you,” you begged, too out of it to think of the consequences. He let out an obscene moan at the request.
“Want me to fill you up, yeah?” He said as he roughly fucked into you. “Fill you up so good that it’ll still be leakin’ outta ya tomorrow?” He was delirious, almost pussy drunk. You were both chasing your release, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there wasn’t. Not for the two of you.
“Joel, I’m…oh, fuck!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you, knocking you into hysteria.
“Right behind you, pretty girl,” he said, grunting. “You’re squeezin’ me so good,” he moaned, finally spilling into your cunt. He pulled you back into him as you both finished, moans muffled by each other’s tongues, sucking, biting, licking, kissing.
When the ecstasy ended and he could feel you squirming underneath him, he pulled out gently, taking care not to brush your clit too roughly. He watched as his cum leaked from your puffy hole, taking two fingers and shoving it back in. You whimpered a little at the contact. “I know, honey. Just makin’ sure I’m gonna stay inside of you.”
He finally laid down next to you, bringing you into his chest. You shoved your head in the crook of his neck, taking all of him in.
You didn’t have to talk about tomorrow, or think about it. You just needed to be here, in this moment with him, face nuzzled into his neck, his seed still leaking out of you.
Tomorrow could wait.
You woke like you normally do, to the rays of splendid sunlight shining in through your thin curtains. Stretching, you remembered last night. Your hand reached for the spot you left him in, finding the bed cold. The cold of the sheet travelled through your fingertips, up your arm, through your shoulder, into your chest, and hit your heart. You scrambled out of bed, throwing on whatever you could find, and scrambled downstairs.
There was no evidence that he had ever been there, except for the two pieces of paper that sat on the kitchen table.
Your breath hitched as you picked the first one up, tears threatening to spill. It was a drawing done in simple graphite. A drawing of you sitting next to Joel, who was laying in bed. She had done it when he was still feverish. In the bottom right corner, she signed:
“Thank you for everything. I know it will work out. -Ellie”
You clutched it to your heart as you picked up the second one. A letter. It read:
My girl,
I hope you can forgive me for leaving you no room for a goodbye. Part of me thought it would be easier this way, not having to think about what you were going to say, or what you should have said. The other part of me wanted to stay in that bed with you, cozied up in your arms, until the two of us were too old to get up. I want you forever.
But I made Ellie a promise a long time ago. She’s got nobody left. She’s just a girl, and I can’t leave her on her own. The guilt would eat me alive a lot quicker than any infection could. I have to get her to her people. When I’m done, I promise you that I’ll come back. I’ve marked your little farm on my map, there’s no chance of me missing it. Before you, I would’ve laughed at the idea of forever. Forever seemed like too long living in this world. Now, all I want is forever if I can spend it with you in my arms.
Thank you. For more than you know. I’ll see you soon.
Until we meet again.
Yours truly and forever,
Joel Miller
part 2
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader fluff#joel miller angst#joel miller x reader angst#hbo's the last of us#tlou#the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x reader smut#pedro pascal x reader angst#pedro pascal x reader fluff
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Too Sweet to be Mine
Pedro Pascal x reader
summary: Pedro doesn’t know why you love sweet things so much, but he definitely knows why he loves you
warnings: age gap? not explicit though
a/n: feel free to change the drink order i just put something basic
“This tastes like you licked an espresso puck for fun,” You tell Pedro, clearly disappointed.
“Whatever, I happen to like the bitterness. I don’t know how you drink that, it’s so sweet. It practically gives me a headache,” he tells you.
“Yeah, okay grandpa,” you roll your eyes at his response.
You and your boyfriend have always been complete opposites. Despite sharing some common interests, you often get into debates between whose preference is the best. You like to think you win each disagreement, Pedro likes to think he lets you win.
An Ice quad espresso, venti, extra ice, and 6 shots. That is Pedro’s Starbucks order. You have no idea why he needs that much caffeine for how he manages to consume it all without going into cardiac arrest.
Your order on the other hand is much much different. A grande black tea lemonade with 5 pumps of sugar. Specifically 5 since the regular 4 isn’t sweet enough for you.
One dispute the two of you get into is often about your taste in drinks and food. You’ve always opted for the sweeter version while Pedro prefers savory.
For dessert you get a cake or ice cream while Pedro gets a coffee, black of course.
“Does your stomach not hurt after all that sugar?” He interrogates you as he sips his coffee.
“Does that coffee not subtract from your life expectancy?” You shoot back at him.
He always replies with a toothy smile and maybe a hand to his heart to show his “hurt.”
You’re both in London for Pedro’s premiere and the hotel's room service and free coffee is certainly being taken advantage of. You’re laying in bed, Pedro’s laying his head on your chest with his hand wrapped around your waist while you read and he watches TV. You don’t miss the way he turns the TV down so you can focus on reading.
“Y’know sugar, i think you might just be too kind for this world,” Pedro says out of the blue.
“Oh yeah? Why do you say that, lindo?” You question, slightly closing your book.
“I don’t know, you’re just too perfect,” his eyes soften and he smiles up at you.
“What a charmer,” you smile back.
“Are you sure you’re even real?” He asks you.
“I think I am, yeah,” the smile still plastered on your face.
“I don’t believe you,” he pouts.
“Oh well that’s quite unfortunate for the both of us.”
“Yeah, especially for me. Because then my heart would be nearly empty,” He frowns.
“Nearly? Not entirely?” you ask.
“Mhm. The memory of you would still fill my heart,” he responds.
Maybe it’s all the caffeine he’s consumed, but Pedro is utterly addicted to you. And he never fails to treat you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky.
#pedrostories#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x reader smut#jose pedro balmaceda pascal
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POV: Your Friends Hot Dad.
Pairing: Sub!Pedro Pascal x Dom!Reader
Summary: You’re Pedro’s daughter friend that always vists their house, just to ‘see your friend.’
Warnings: Degrading, Nipple play, Handjob, cum eating, lots of sweetie, blowjob, he comes quick. Adults.
Part 2
Word Count: 3.9K
A/n: ignore mistakes, this was straight up just horny writing I edited.
(Not my gif)
Pedro's daughter wasn’t your best friend, but you two were definitely close. Close enough that it was normal to see you at her house almost every week. But honestly, you only went to her house for one reason. Her dad.
(Friend name) opened the door to her dad's house looking at you with a half smile. “Hey, I’m already ready, I just need to go pee real quick.” She spoke speeding away. You blinked and nodded closing the door behind you as you walked in looking over to the kitchen and seeing her dad, Pedro. You smiled taking a breath before walking over and standing on the other side of his kitchen island. “Hi, Pedro.” You spoke softly resting your elbows on the counter and putting your chin in your hands. “Hi, sweetheart.” He smiled giggling a little at how you were posed bringing his coffee mug up to his lips. You smiled back staring intensely at the coffee mug watching his lips gently wrap around the rim taking a sip. You were so caught up in staring that you didn’t even notice he was still looking at you. He pulled the mug away touching his beard and mouth. “Is there something on my face?” You blinked at his words standing up straight “What? No.” You giggled shyly. He nodded bringing his hands to rest on the counter and placing the mug down. “You too are going to the mall right?” You nodded quickly. “Good, do you think you can get me something?” “Of course, anything.” You spoke cringing at how desperate you sounded. “I just want some frozen yogurt.” He grinned “I shouldn’t, I told (friend's name) I was gonna stop with sweets but I can’t stop thinking about it.” He spoke with a gentle chuckle. You nodded reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your phone “I’ll get it. How about you text me what flavor.” You spoke going to the phone app and handing him your phone with a radiant smile.
You had been thinking of a way to get his number for a while now. And finally, you got this chance. but even if you would have got it before, there was no reason for you to be texting or calling him away. You just like the thought of having it.
He glanced at the phone and then started looking around confused taping the top of his head and smiling. “My glasses.” He whispered bringing them down to his face and grabbing the phone typing his number just as your friend came out of the bathroom. “Okay! You ready?” She spoke strolling over and grabbing her purse off the couch then heading over to her dad. “Yes.” You smiled looking over at Pedro who finished typing his number sliding the phone onto the island to you and then facing his daughter. “Alright! Hug me. Be careful.” He spoke embracing her tightly making her face scrunch up. “Dad..” she whispered hugging him back weakly. He giggled almost picking her up then looked over at you opening his arm for you to join the hug. Your eyes light up heading over quickly and wrapping your arms around him as he embraced you both. “love you two. Text me when you get there okay sweetie?” He spoke pulling away and then looking at you. "You too" he spoke winking at you quickly. “Okay get out.” He said turning around and walking toward his couch. His daughter playfully rolled her eyes looking at you. “Let’s go.”
You spent the whole day at the mall and the only thing you could think about was Pedro, how he hugged you, he even said he loved you. Of course, he was just being kind since you are always over but it meant so much. You made sure to get his frozen yogurt texting to find out what flavor and toppings he wanted cheerfully purchasing it. As the mall trip came to an end you and (friend's name) headed to her house. Usually, you would have gone home after dropping her off but tonight, you just didn’t wanna leave. You wanted to be around Pedro some more. At least one more time before the night was over. So you requested for the first time for her to ask Pedro if you could spend the night.
By the time you got home to her home, Pedro was laying on the couch already wearing his Pajama pants sitting up when he heard the door open and then quickly standing. “Hi, dad.” Your friend spoke walking to the kitchen as you walked in behind her looking over at him holding up the cup of frozen yogurt with a bright smile. His eyes widened walking over and taking it “Yes! Thank you so much, baby!” He jumped before leaning in and hugging you tightly. His daughter looked over placing her bags on the island then sighed. “I thought you said no sweets?” “Shh. I don’t wanna hear it, that’s why I asked them to get it for me.” He spoke with a pout pulling away one of his hands still resting on your shoulder. You stiffened looking down at Pedro's body slowly then quickly back to his eyes just as they meet yours. “Thank you.” He whispered squeezing your shoulder gently and walking over to the kitchen.
You stood there a little before snapping out your brain fog and closing the front door, twisting and walking over to the kitchen to join them. “And your gonna eat it before bed?” She spoke shaking her head pulling her phone out and resting her arms on the counter. “If you want some you just have to ask, I’ll give you some.” He giggled putting down the cup and opening the lid sliding his hand down the counter and getting a spoon from the drawer below him. “Well, I might only want a nibble.” She murmured. He nodded scoping a small bite and bringing the spoon to her mouth “Open.” She blinked pulling away slightly before leaning in and taking a nibble without her mouth touching the spoon “Oh it’s good!” She hummed looking down at her phone. You watched him closely noticing the way his shirt hugged his arms. How his waist was noticeably small even through the shirt, gulping at the way his pants are so tight only around his big butt and thighs. So hooked on his body, you didn’t notice him looking at you now. “Y/n?” He spoke making you zone back in meeting his eyes. “You want some?” You nodded slowly walking over to him watching him scope some more and bring it to your lips. “Open.” You opened your mouth staring into his eyes as he put the spoon in staring back at yours his eyebrows frowning before looking away. You smiled sucking on the spoon a little as he pulled it out. “It’s good.” You beamed to yourself noticing how it looked like he got nervous from that as he looked up and smiled shyly looking back to the yogurt. “G-good! Now my turn to taste!” He smiled you watched him scoped some up and eat It, your mouth almost watered at the fact he didn’t change the spoon. He even sucked on it a little looking over at you.
You watched him closely with doe eyes before his daughter started speaking looking up from her phone. “Oh yeah, dad is it okay if y/n stays the night?” He looked at her. “I don’t see why not. I’ll cook us breakfast in the morning. It’ll be fun.” He smiled clapping. You bobbed slightly, excitedly looking at your friend. “Yes! It will be!” You spoke and then looked at Pedro.
The night grew longer and Pedro finished his yogurt saving the smallest amount and putting it in the fridge. “You're not even gonna eat that later.” His daughter chuckled. “Then one of you can eat it.” He spoke stretching. “I’m gonna go lay down.” Pedro yawned. His daughter nodded “Yeah me too, I’ll probably go to sleep soon if that's okay.” She spoke looking at you “of course, I will too. ” You spoke looking over at Pedro “Goodnight, see you in the morning.” He looked at you and nodded “See you in the morning sweetheart.” He walked over to his daughter kissing her head before walking away towards his room. “Alright follow me..” she spoke through a yawn grabbing your hand and leading you to her bedroom.
She had changed her clothes and let you borrow some of hers slipping into her bed luckily big enough to fit you both. You got in next to her watching her turn on the tv. “Let’s watch something before bed.” She spoke. But, before you knew it you both had fallen asleep snoring, and all before you snapped awake your body suddenly remembered you weren’t in your own bed. You groaned feeling the bed for your phone finding hers and picking it up with a grunt seeing it was 5 am. “Danm.” You mumbled yawning and sitting up taking the covers off yourself and standing up slowly making sure to be careful not to wake your friends putting the covers snug on her.
You walked out of her room sleepily trying to remember the layout while heading to the bathroom when you stopped in your tracks. It’s Pedro's room. What if you just checked to see if he was awake? He did say he’d cook breakfast maybe he should start early, (friend's name.) could probably wake up soon. You looked at the door and walked over to it pressing your ear against it listening and only hearing the sound of his tv. You pulled away bringing your hand to the doorknob holding onto it and breathing out slowly before opening the door slightly peeking your head in. Pedro was just laying in his bed with a pillow between his legs watching tv intensely. You watched him opening the door some more for a better view, him somehow still not noticing you.
You gulped opening it completely and walking in his head turning toward the door and squinting. “Y-y/n?” He spoke. “Um..yeah?” You whispered gripping the door handle tightly. “Oh.. good morning sweetie.” He smiled looking back at the tv. “Good morning.” You spoke closing the door behind you and standing at the entrance awkwardly looking around his room. He watched the tv a second longer before shifting to look at you chuckling slightly “What’s up?” “Nothing.” You gulped looking down at his body. He looks so good. This is your first time being in his room and it just made you want to touch him even more. What’s the worst that could happen? He’d probably just ask you to leave. You swallow walking closer to him as he tried watching you as you sat behind him “You okay baby?”
You nodded slowly placing your hand on his waist rubbing down to his hips and over his ass slightly pulling away with wide eyes scared at what he was gonna say. He blinked turning his upper body to you. “Why’d you do that?” He whispered. “I-I just wanted to touch you.” You uttered looking down then back up meeting his eyes. “Oh okay..” he spoke. It was silent for a moment before he started talking. “You can keep touching, give me a message while you're at it.” He chuckled facing back toward the tv. You blinked with frowned eyebrows before licking your lips and seizing your opportunity rubbing on his waist then to his back his tight shirt making your hand glide easily. You massaged over his shoulder then up his neck gently messaging his head earning a soft groan from him. You almost moaned just from that you gripping his hair slightly. “Oh…y/n?” He uttered with a raspy voice as he smiled clearing his throat. “Careful sweetie.” You nodded slowly but weren't gonna listen, you wanted to hear his groan again even if it was just a little.
You grabbed his hair again this time harder watching him suck in his bottom lip between his teeth. “Y/n..” he moaned clearing his throat again trying to turn and look at you, but you kept his head forward taking your free hand and bringing it to his ass rubbing it softly. You were doing too much now but all you could think about was how badly you had been wanting to touch him, he could always tell you to leave and of course, you would. He furrowed his eyebrows “W-we shouldn’t do this sweetheart..” He groaned trying to keep his voice sounding normal but he was failing sounding still unstable. “T-then..you shouldn’t sound like you like it?” You spoke swallowing nervously “Do you like it?” You whispered leaning in his ear tightening your grip on his hair. “Y-yes!” He whined covering his mouth just as you smacked his ass.
You smiled brightly your nervousness fading as you let go of his hair grabbing the pillow in front of him and placing it by his head. You slowly slide your hand on his butt up to his waist then bringing it to his mouth. “Open.” He listened opening his mouth as you slide your finger in turning his head by his hair so he looked at you while gently sucking your finger. You smiled at him rubbing his head. “Good boy.” His eyebrows were knitted together his eyes were already shiny. “Do you want me to touch you, Pedro? Have you… Every thought about me touching you? Be honest.” You spoke pulling your finger out his mouth so he could speak. He caught his breath panting quietly before nodding slowly. You blinked. “R-really tell me about it.” You spoke shifting your gaze to look down his body and seeing his bulge in his PJs. “I-I think about that after I catch you staring at me. I always want you to just…come up and hug me.” He whispered looking at your face as your eyes came back up to meet his. “That’s how you think about me touching you? You’re cute Pedro, but I meant like this.” You said running your hand down his chest to the top of his PJs gently sliding your fingertips under the hem of them making his breath hitch. “You get what I’m saying now?”
He nodded quickly. “S-sweetie i-i …I can’t do this! I haven’t done anything like this in so long.” He moaned nervously. You pouted rubbing his head. “Yes, you can. It’s okay.” You whispered. “I know you wanna do this, So tell me, Have you ever thought about me touching you, here.” You moved your hand down further into his pants cupping his bugle over his underwear. He jerked in your hand squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them. “I thought about it!” He whined out feeling your hand slowly moving up and down. “Come on Pedro. tell me about it. Then maybe I can do it for you.” You spoke softly. He nodded quickly “O-okay...I thought about you coming into my room... Kinda like how this started.” He chuckled softly “And uh you ask me if you could…make me cum, cause you love me so much. I always see the way you look at me y/n… I can’t help but think plenty of things sometimes.” He uttered softly. You giggled “And I thought I wasn’t being obvious.” You looked down at your hand in his pants. “Well, Pedro. I wanna make you cum.” You leaned down whispering in his ear. “Please, baby.” He whimpered thrusting against your hand.
You giggled pulling your hand out his pants and making him lay on his back grabbing the hem of his PJs and pulling them down so he was only in boxers. You paused a moment before flicking his hard dick. “Agh!” He groaned looking down at his bulge and then back to your eyes .“W-why?” “Sorry l couldn’t help it.” You giggled looking at his chest bringing your other hand to his nipple and flicking it. “Baby…please just start touching what matters.” He whined. You giggled “Slow down Pedro. You really haven’t been touched in a while Huh? But you're so handsome I can’t believe it.” You pouted flicking his other nipple your hand grabbing the hem of his boxers. He shook his head gulping “Y-you are the first person to touch me like this in months.” He whispered his face fading to a slightly red color. You giggled giving his nipple a harsh flick.
He thrusted up his hand gripping the sheets beside him. You looked away from him to his boxer, pulling them down completely to reveal his precum leaking dick. You blinked tilting your head “Wow.” The way you were looking at his dick made him even more nervous and embarrassed as he brought a hand to cover his red face. You looked at him. “Put your hand down slut.” You spoke harshly and he quickly listened “I-I’m sorry sweetie.” “Good boy, I wanna see your handsome face.” He nodded looking at you with pleading eyes. “Please touch me. Please.” You smiled bringing your hand to only gently touch a finger to his tip still rubbing over his stiff nipple. “Y/n...I can’t..please..” He grunted squirming up for more friction. You chuckled “You’re so cute I just wanna mess with you a little.” You spoke. “But fine, since you said please, I’ll touch your useless cock.” His dick twitched at your words making him whimper covering his mouth but quickly bringing his hand back down. “Oh… you like that?” You whispered wrapping your hand around him fully his precum making it easy to slowly start pumping him. He nodded shyly panting under his breath.
You abused his sensitive nipples switching between them while your other hand started working faster. “I’ll probably cum quick y/n!” You nodded pinching his tip before starting to go fast again “I know, you're not used to anybody touching your worthless dick. But I’ll touch it from now on.” “Y-yes!” He groaned his head falling to the side with his eyes closed low moans escaping his lips. Your smile radiated before moving your hand back up to his tip quickly stroking just his head as his legs twisted on top of each other. “S-sweetheart…” You hummed and kept doing that till his eyes shoot open. “Baby! I’m gonna cum!” He jerked with a low voice. “Just give me a minute..” He spoke shakily reaching to grab his stomach. You knew he wanted you to stop or at least slow down but you didn’t, keeping your pace brutal pace rubbing his tip and nipples. “Y/n... F-fuck please… slow dow-agh!...” He moaned out bringing his hand to cover his mouth just as his orgasm broke through him. His legs bent and twitched up, cum leaking out his dick down your fist and pooling at his pubic area. You watched in awe as his dick twitched in your fist. And listened to how he moaned loudly into his hand.
He panted looking at you his cheeks red and his eyes glossy moving his hand down to rub his stomach. “Gosh, I-I’m so embarrassed.” He chuckled softly his dick starting to slowly stop twitching. “You must have been pimped up. There’s so much.” He nodded slowly “Thank you for helping me, sweetie.” You smiled at him pulling your hand off his dick and bringing it to his lips. He frowned and looked at your cum covered hand then back to you. “I’ve uh never done that before.” He whispered. “Open your mouth, Pedro.” He swallowed and nodded quickly opening his mouth and letting you slide your fingers into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around tasting his cum. You watched him closely licking your lips giving him time to clean them fully before sliding them out with a plop and slapping his face lightly. You looked back down at his dick still hard tilting your head. “It’ll uh.. go down soon.” He smiled licking his lip. “I want to taste your cum too..” You hummed. “Sit up.” He blinked but listened quickly sitting up and sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you as you got off the bed and walked in front of him. “Can you cum again? In my mouth this time?” You spoke with a smile. “I can, baby.” He nodded quickly taking his hand and wrapping it around his sensitive dick whimpering in pain.
You giggled at his scrunched-up face as he started moving his hand up and down wasting no time going quickly. You blinked and then smiled before grabbing his wrist. “Slowly first Pedro.” You spoke moving his wrist up and down slowly. He nodded “R-right.” He uttered looking down at your face, your eyes staring at him like you always like you just want to tear him apart and eat him. Looking at your face quickly turned his sensitivity to pleasure working his cock barely faster. You stuck your tongue out keeping strong eye contact. He reached out with his free hand rubbing your face with frowned eyebrows slowly putting his thumb on your tongue. You giggled raising and eyebrows starting to suck on his thumb swirling your tongue over the tip of it. “Oh, baby…” He groaned closing his eyes before opening them slightly trying to keep watching you. He wanted to hold off but he felt the knot in his stomach daring to break and he knew he couldn't much longer. “I-I need to cum again sweetie… I-I’m sorry…”
You popped off his thumb bringing your hand to hold his. “Already? Your cock is hopeless.” He nodded quickly. “You’re right! I’m sorry! Stick your tongue out, please! Fuck…” He sobbed out as you wasted no time sticking your tongue out. He let go of his dick sitting up more and pressing the head on your tongue rubbing back and forth until his orgasm started ripping through him sending a loud yelp out of him. He brought his hand to cover his mouth while you wrapped your mouth around his tip his hips thrusting up his cum further down your throat. Your eyebrows threaded together at the taste since it was your first time tasting cum, you were simply just happy it was Pedro. You let him finish his high sucking on his tip before pulling away when you felt his dick stop twitching. “Mmm, taste good.” You giggled taking a moment to swallow all his cum. He panted closing his eyes before letting his body fall back on the bed.
“I can’t believe this happened.” He whispered sitting back up. “We.. uh can’t ever let my daughter find out this happened.” He looked over his shoulder to the clock behind him and then back to you. “I should start cooking.” You nodded “of course, I promise she won’t find out this happened.” You smiled leaning to his face and kissing him. He kissed back groaning a little as the kiss deepened his hand grabbing onto your waist trying to pull you onto his lap. You smiled into the kiss pulling away. “Let’s do this again.” You smiled pecking his cheek before backing out of his touch and walking towards his door.
“I’ll see you at breakfast.” He smiled watching. You nodded. “See you at breakfast Pedro.” You spoke walking out of his room closing the door behind you and jumping happily trying to contain your squeaks. When you walked back over to (friend's name) door and opened she was just waking up rubbing her eyes. You took a deep breath and walked in a sitting on her bed. "Where did you go? is breakfast ready?" You swallowed. "Just to the bathroom, it should be ready soon." You spoke with a smile.
#dom!reader#sub!pedropascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#daddy Pedro#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader smut
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Pedro Pascal eating you out headcanon:
Word count: 302
• Pedro Pascal would spend an eternity between your thighs if he could.
• He craves you. Your taste. The way you feel against his tongue, his fingers. The feeling of your thighs squeezing his head so tightly. Fuck he loved your thighs.
• He takes every opportunity to go down on you. And he wouldn't stop until you've finished at least three times
• When it came to you he couldn't care less about his own climax. At least not until you've been pleased several times. Its then he decides if he should stay in between your thighs for another round our come up and fuck you.
• He loved the feeling of you around his dick. But it was never even an option for him to compare it to how you tasted. You are a five star Michelin in his head.
• When the two of you would have sex it sometimes ended with him cumming in his pants because he couldn't leave your thighs.
• He was entranced by your moans. Music to his fucking ears. He loved the way you squirmed when it all came two much or when you were about to cum
• But if at some point you want him to feel just as much pleasure as you do he would just tell you that your moans and orgasms were all that he needed. However if you were persistent and told him that he deserved to be on the opposite end of receiving and that it would make you happy it would probably end in a good old sixty-nine. It was the best of both worlds. You got to please him and he could enjoy your sweet sweet cunt.
• All In all he was pussy drunk for you
#Pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal headcanon#pedro pascal blurb#pedro pascal smut blurb#fuck this man his hot#i love him
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Graceland Too (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)
A/N: Hi everyone!!! Wowowow am I active this week LOL (fyi this is a re-upload. Decided to proofread one more time bc I uploaded at like 2AM last night). Here is a little sick fic I wrote for my friend who isn’t feeling too great (hope you’re feeling okay <3). The fic is heavily based around “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers but it is also inspired by “oh baby” by LCD Soundsystem. Highly suggest giving those a listen. Anyway, requests are open. Enjoy!
Summary: You’re terribly sick, but one night and one fever dream might just change everything for you and Din.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+, Praise kink (imo at least), oral (f!receiving), fingering, reader is sick, Jedi!Reader (it’s like I only know how to write Din x Jedi!readers I stg), idiots/friends to lovers, pining, mentions of death/major violence (canon typical I'd say), cursing, probably some grammar stuff....that’s it I think.
Word Count: 3,018
The wind is cold as it slices you in half, but you feel overwhelmingly hot, clammy even. Sweat dribbles down your forehead as you tread across the rocks beneath your feet. Blaster shots ring out in the distance.
You struggle to pick up your pace, your boots sticking to the ground as you try to put one foot in front of the other.
“Mando!” You call out, remembering not to use his real name. Fog covers the ground, filling the air at an excruciatingly quick rate. You’d never be able to find him in this. You call out to him again, but there’s no answer. You’d take a grunt or even a groan at this point.
Then there’s a disembodied, brittle voice coming from behind you.
“Looking for him?” It’s grating, nasally. You’d recognize it anywhere.
You turn around frantically, practically giving yourself whiplash.
“Bo Katan.” Your voice is low, hushed. Din’s body is limp on the ground, being held up on his knees by the woman in front of you. There’s a smirk on her face. She has the darksaber in her hand…
And it’s at Din’s throat.
“Let him go,” You plead. You go to grab your lightsaber, a blaster, something, anything at your utility belt, but there’s nothing there. You have no defense, just your words. “You got what you came for, you have the darksaber.”
She scoffs, shaking her head, her smirk widening. “I haven’t finished the job yet. I still have to kill you and your Mandalorian.”
Your eyes widen with fear, blurring with tears. “No please, please don’t hurt him.” Your voice croaks as you choke back sobs.
“Too late.” She moves the darksaber from his throat, plunging it into his chest with one fatal swoop.
“DIN!” You scream, crashing down to your knees next to him.
“I’m here mesh’la…” He whispers, but it doesn’t sound like he’s next to you, he’s somewhere off in the distance. His husky voice calls out your name.
“I’m right here.” He repeats himself. Your eyes force themselves open as you shove your palms into the bed to push yourself up. You almost hit your head on the top of the bunk in the process, but Din stops you before you can, his cold, gloved hands coming up to your shoulders. “It was just a nightmare.” His voice is honeyed, gentle.
You look to your left to see him standing at your side, armor off, helmet on.
“M’sorry,” You mutter, rubbing your eyes. You feel like absolute shit, worse than yesterday. Your skin is so hot that it threatens to burn a hole in Din’s gloves. You choke down a cough, the sensation vibrating painfully against your already pounding head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
You had been sick for a few days now, and Din was doing everything by himself: the ship’s maintenance, the flying, the hunting, taking care of Grogu, and taking care of you. Now, to make matters worse, you had woken him up. You know he doesn’t get enough rest to begin with. You feel like a burden – and not just in this moment, always. You were a danger to yourself, to Din, to Grogu; a force wielding ex-Jedi, ex-Empire captive wanted by anyone and everyone. And yet, he had let you into his little clan of two with open arms. Now he was here, caring for you. You could’ve gone home, made a place for yourself in the New Republic, continued your Jedi training, but you didn’t.
You met Din. And you felt so, so guilty for the repercussions of your meeting.
You part your lips, ready to usher him back to bed, to apologize again. But Din doesn’t leave room for you to protest. “Don’t apologize, please.” He shushes you, taking off a glove and pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You hum lightly under his touch. He feels like ice against your blazingly hot skin.
“Your hand…” You trail off, struggling to speak, “feels good.”
Your hoarse voice sounds like nothing more than a set of incoherent mumblings, but Din seems to understand every syllable. He chuckles shortly and softly, as if the laugh was only meant to be heard by you. “That’s ‘cause you’re warmer now than you were yesterday.” He flips his hand over so that his palm rests against your skin. His forefingers and thumb rub gently at your temples, working tirelessly at your raging headache.
With his free hand, he reaches down for something you can’t quite see. Seconds later he’s holding two pills in front of your face. You immediately take them from him, no questions asked. Whatever it was, you’d take it. This was absolutely unbearable, and the constant fever dreams certainly didn’t help. You swallow the pills with no hesitation, and Din brings a metal cup to your lips.
“Drink,” is all he says, and you do. You take the cup from his hands, the cold water rushing down your throat, temporarily easing the pain you feel there. Din apprehensively settles his arm on your waist. “This okay?” He asks, a slight shake in his voice. You nod in response, smiling appreciatively.
“Thank you,” You whisper, tilting your head to the side with affection. You swallow harshly, clearing your throat. “You can go back to sleep now if you want. I’ll be okay.”
But Din doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move at all. He ignores your permission to leave completely. “What dream did you have this time?”
You shudder, remembering what you had seen just moments ago. Din instantly takes account of the look on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, stabilizing you, keeping you tethered to reality – to him.
You draw in a deep breath, practically coughing up your lungs in the process. “Bo Katan, s-she,” You stutter, your eyes shutting tightly in between words. You could still see it. It was ingrained in your brain, burnt into the grooves, sowed in between every empty space. You can still feel her. It was so real. “She had the darksaber and she…” But you can’t finish. Your vision is blurry, your surroundings morphing into an amalgamation of streaks of light and grey metallic colors. You blink and a few cool tears drip down your searing cheeks.
“Hey,” Din coos, his helmet inching closer towards your face, his hands still glued around your waist and atop your forehead. “I’ve got you now. It was just a nightmare. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, mesh’la, nothing.”
You cough out a laugh. “Nothing except a red-haired Mandalorian and whatever this fever is.”
But Din shakes his head. “Not if I can help it.” It isn’t until those words fall from his lips that you realize how close he is to you, how intimate this moment is. His armor is long gone, and you can see the outline of his muscles in his shoulders and arms, his deltoids, his triceps, underneath his flight suit.
“I would…” He trails off, a tremble obviously present in his voice. His confidence has completely disappeared. The vulnerability of the moment makes your head spin faster than it already is. You watch his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his vocoder. “I would do anything for you.”
Anything. He would do anything? For you?
Your heart beats rapidly, threatening to combust against your ribs as Din’s hand on your forehead slides down to your cheek. You’ve forgotten your fever at this point, forgotten your headache, your sore throat. All you feel now is Din, his thumb grazing against your cheek, his fingers ghosting along the exposed slit of skin between the hemline of your shirt and the waistline of your shorts.
You want to keep him here, to ask him to hang on to you all night long, but you don’t know if you have the courage to ask. You close your eyes, inhaling through your nose, gathering your words before they spill from your lips. “Would you…” Your voice fades out, evaporating into silence, unable to finish your sentence.
“Anything,” Din’s modulated voice echoes against the walls of the bunk. “Say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want, cyare.”
Fuck. He really means anything. Whatever you want.
“Would you stay…with me?” It’s a garbled, incomprehensible mess of a question, but as always, Din knows what’s on your mind better than you do.
Din nods immediately. “Of course.” It’s short, but certainly not curt. Those two words say far more than what they mean. “I have to let go of you for just a second, but I’ll be right back, I promise.” Ever the caretaker, Din Djarin. Eternally putting others before himself. It makes your heart pang in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.
He hesitates a moment before finally letting go of you, his hands brushing over your skin for a few extra seconds, stealing time that had already been borrowed. He slips deeper into the hull. You hear him press a few buttons in the distance, and then with a sudden flick, the lights of the hull go out. Darkness fills the room, and you can hear Din shuffling back towards the bunk.
There’s a click and a hiss, and then the sound of metal falling onto metal. Din had taken his helmet off. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. You occasionally found yourself in his bunk, clinging to him for warmth when you were on a particularly cold planet or when the Crest’s heating system had broken down, but it was rare.
“Should you keep it on?” You ask as Din pushes the covers of the bed down. You feel the mattress dip as he slides into the bunk. “I’m still sick, you know.” The last thing you wanted was to make Din feel the way you feel right now. You didn’t want him to get hurt. You had to protect him, too.
You don’t realize how close he is to you until you feel his breath fan across your lips. “No.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. “Wanna make you feel safe.”
“But-,”
He cuts you off. “It’s worth the risk.”
You were worth the risk.
The darkness isn’t so scary when he’s next to you. You close your eyes, listening closely to his unmodulated breaths. His arm snakes up your body, coming to rest around your waist, in the exact spot he was in before.
“Din?” You call out in the darkness. You inch forward a bit, unexpectedly bumping your nose into his. The sudden touch, the proximity, it’s all becoming too much for you to bear.
“Yes, cyare?” His voice is husky, low, rough.
You can’t even remember what it was you were going to ask him. All you can think about is how close he is, how his fingers graze over your stomach, how his breath ghosts over your cheeks, how much you want him to kiss you.
Maker, you want him to kiss you. Would he if you asked him to? Was that under the category of, anything?
“Cyare?” He’s concerned. You can hear it in the way the pet name plays on his lips, hanging around in the air longer than normal.
“I-I,” You stutter. Was now really the time to do this, to confess your feelings to Din? “I don’t know what to say.” It was true, maybe a little too true. “I just, I like you Din.”
He chuckles. Maker, it sounds so much better without his helmet. “I like you too, cyar’ika.” He’s unserious, carefree.
“No,” You mumble. You feel like a child, a padawan once again, not knowing how to communicate or to feel. “Not like that. M-more than that.” You wish you could see the look on his face, to gauge what he was feeling.
Silence takes hold of the bunk. Shit. Too much. Too much too soon. I shouldn’t have-
And then, like always, Din reads your mind. His lips come crashing down onto yours. The kiss is reckless, frenzied, deep. He molds against you, as if he was always meant to fit here. You almost regret not doing something sooner. You think, maybe you’ve wasted valuable time that you could’ve already spent with this side of him. But you know you’ve lived through everything you’ve been through, just to get to this very moment, to feel his lips taking yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, seeking permission to explore more of you. You part your mouth, gladly accepting his invitation.
His hand at your waist travels lower, resting along the inside of your thigh. You moan against his lips at the touch. You can feel your wetness growing between your legs, the pulsing of your core. You instinctively try to press your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction, but Din stops you, using his hand to keep your legs spread wide for him.
His fingers tread achingly slow up your inner thigh, teasing you, his nails softly scratching against your exposed skin. Din’s hand finally lands on top of your clothed cunt, his thumb tracing circles into the overly sensitive spot. You’re trembling under his touch as he presses harder into where you need him most.
“S-shit,” You mutter. “Feels s-so good.”
Din swallows harshly. “Wanna taste you, mesh’la. Bet you taste so good.” Desire coats his voice. His hand slips away from your heat and you groan at the loss of contact. He finds the waistline of your shorts, tugging a bit, searching for permission.
“Please, wanna feel you,” You whimper. And that’s all he needs. Din drags your shorts and panties down your legs. You’re not sure where they end up, but you can’t be bothered to care.
Din presses light kisses against your inner thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against your skin, until he finally reaches your core. His tongue begins to explore your folds, pushing through before finally settling on your clit.
“D-Din!” You cry out as he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Fuck, feels s’good.” Your words slur and your eyes blur as he laps at you.
“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet.” The vibrations of Din’s voice against your clit pushes you closer to the edge. You were already practically there.
He brings a finger to your folds, spreading your slick before sinking deep inside of you. The sensation coaxes a moan from your lips, and Din takes this as a sign to add another finger. He gives you a moment to adjust to him before pulling out and crashing back into you. He’s pushing further inside you as he takes you on his tongue. Nothing else matters, and nothing else will ever be the same.
“Doing so good for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your entrance. “You sound so pretty when you say my name.”
“Din.” It’s a whisper, a plea. More, please, more. “Don’t stop. Fuck.” His free hand glides under your shirt, pushing your bra up and out of the way. He takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly, rolling the nub around before switching to the other. He squeezes softly, luring you closer to your breaking point.
“Taking me so good, being such a good girl,” Din groans. You throw your head back against the pillow. His words alone were enough to drive you mad. “Gonna make you come, gonna give you whatever you want, mesh’la.”
His name rolls off your tongue. You’re unsure of where it starts and where it ends, whispering it over and over again like you’re trying to commit this moment to some eternal memory.
His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers pumping faster, deeper inside of you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were right there, your walls tightening around Din’s fingers.
“Din I’m gonna-,” But it’s impossible to get the words out. You’re a bleating mess underneath him.
“That’s it, come for me, pretty girl. Wanted this for so long,” His praises, his confessions, send you over the edge, searing heat spreading across every inch of your body. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect for me.” You can feel yourself shattering under his touch, your walls fluttering around him.
“F-fuck Din,” You whimper, riding out your high. Din slowly laps at your swollen clit, his fingers gently pumping in and out of you a few more times before pulling out. You feel empty without them. “N-need more. Need to feel you.” You can’t help but beg. It wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, needed all of him.
“Not tonight, cyar’ika,” Din breathes as he finds his way back next to you. “Don’t wanna push you too far. You’re sick, don’t forget. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, remember?” There’s a faint laugh in his voice, a certain genuine happiness that you can’t wait to hear more of.
“Tomorrow?” You ask, shifting so that your head rests against his chest.
“As long as you’re feeling better…” He trails off for a second, mulling his words over in his head before continuing, “I’ll do anything you want me to.” You know there’s a smile tugging at his lips, you can hear it. It makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Get some rest, okay?”
You nod your head, nestling even further into him. You wrap a leg around his waist, and he follows suit by wrapping his arms around you.
“Goodnight, Din.”
“Goodnight, mesh’la.”
No longer a danger to herself or others
She made up her mind and laced up her shoes…
Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment
Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then
I would do anything you want me to
I would do anything for you
I would do anything, I would do anything
Whatever you want me to do, I will do
I will do anything (whatever you want)
Whatever she wants (whatever you want)
#din djarin x reader smut#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x you smut#din djarin smut#din djarin fluff#din djarin female!reader#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian smut#pedro pascal x reader#Pedro pascal x reader smut#Pedro pascal x reader fluff#Pedro pascal smut#Pedro pascal x you#Pedro pascal x you smut#the mandalorian imagine#din djarin imagine#mando x reader smut#mando smut#din djarin x jedi!reader#din djarin x fem!reader#din djarin x fem!reader smut#din djarin comfort#the mandalorian reader insert
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Hi, I'm kind of picky of FF in general, smut especially, but your "Pulling away" is just beyond perfect. Do you maybe have time and the enthusiasm to write something like that again? Not sure what other characters you'd write for (out of your master list) but another Joel would be great anyway. Thank you for your work!
A/n ahh thank you!! the feedback i've gotten on "Pulling Away" has been unbelievable,, and i very rarely usually write smut without being prompted to lol, i feel like it's too obvious that i'm a virgin who has had very few sexual experiences, even less if you don't count the ones i didn't fully consent to,, but that's neither here nor there, i'm doing better now i promise :)
also ik my masterlist is super limited compared to who i actually write for lol,, updating it is my absolute enemy but i'm working on it 😭
also the build up in this fic is criminal!! that's my bad!
Summary: You, Ellie, and Joel have recently decided to permanently settle in Jackson. The promise of stability seems to lead to boundaries adjusting during a sleepless night after Joel appears in your bedroom.
smut warning, 18 plus !!
----
It's existed in him as undeniably and permanently as the lines etched into the slightly calloused skin of the back of his palm. Control is something that Joel Miller knows, something he clings to the same way he keeps a gun in his hand when he needs to.
Control is what keeps him from reacting when your arm moves too carelessly and your elbow manages to push against his ribs. The side that you know is more yellow-purple than the soft tan it should be. If you weren't lying next to him, you would have assumed that the shift of your arm had no affect on him. But you're pressed closer to him than you've ever been, so you can feel the shift despite his intentions. It's subtle. A pinch in his breathing and a brief wave of tension in his spine.
"Sorry," your blurt out is instinctual, and you're not sure if it might be making things worse. You've never been this close to him and it burns so much you can practically feel it melting the thin ice holding the two of you above water.
Burns in a good way. A way that you've only ever felt through brief flutters that have come up more and more recently. Lingering touches patching up injuries, reassuring squeezes of hands that are always brief and never mentioned, the press of Joel's knee against yours as you sat at that table in Jackson, overwhelmed by the presence of so many strangers.
And now this. You, Joel, and Ellie had been given a place to stay. You used to dream about your own bed. A safe roof over your head and a clean blanket keeping you warm. Finally getting it left you restless. Being away from Joel and Ellie felt unnatural even if they were in the same building as you. There are so many strangers here, and even though they have no reason to strike you down, it's still weird.
You couldn't help the obsessive thoughts. It felt oddly compulsive, the urge to wrap the two of them up in warm blankets and bubble wrap and just watch them be okay. It's weird, but what can you say, Ellie and Joel are your people.
And then Joel wandered in after some talk with his brother. It had surprised you, considering the way he had avoided you earlier, but you'd never complain about having him close.
You're still not sure how it happened. How Joel started asking you about how you were settling and telling you that Ellie was just fine. He had gone in to check up on her and then lingered until she fell asleep. The thought of that domestic moment made your heart swell and you found yourself relaxing.
Somehow Joel ended up taking some of your covers. There's a draft, it's winter. You forced yourself to not focus on that in any other context. Refused to give it any other meaning. And then he moved closer, eventually laid his head on your pillow. You almost convinced yourself it was just a way to be a little comfortable while keeping up conversation. But then the talk eventually faded and you had to move to let him fit and you ended up like this. Safe and fragile.
This stray from what's normal is okay tonight. Everything is still weird, you three like awkward, feral cats compared to the people of Jackson.
"You're fine," he breathes, voice rough with sleep.
His acceptance is easy but it does nothing to make you less aware of your position. You're more on top of him than you need to be and your mind is suddenly scrambling, trying to remember every injury you've ever seen him receive.
Untangling yourself from the gentle cocoon you've created is an ache in your chest, but the thought of hurting him is worse. You move your leg close to the edge of the bed and start the careful process of retracting your arm.
Joel shifts with a slight sigh, his own hand following your own. He snags your wrist, pulling you back into place. "You're fine." Joel repeats his earlier words, so half thought out and mumbled together you think they might even be sleep idled.
"Careful," you try, fighting against the blood rushing to your face. "I don't want to hurt you."
Joel's hand moves down your forearm with a slowness that almost feels deliberate. You have to press your lips together to keep from exhaling too sharply. He turns his head and even in the dark you can feel the focus of his gaze.
He swallows once, lips parting for a moment before he speaks, "Hurts more the other way." It's vulnerable and not, undercut by something that feels so factual you briefly have to think about whether or not that's physically possible. "It's good pressure."
Your eyebrows draw together at the realization that he's not entirely joking. The audacity. He's always referencing his age and the soreness that's going to have to catch him at one point or another but now there's not a single concern for his joints or potential hip damage. You've always had a feeling that at least a part of that rant has to be bullshit, or at least some kind of exaggeration.
You scoff but make no move to pull away as Joel settles. "I don't believe you." Normally you wouldn't state anything so transparently. Any flash of softness is glass and barely tangible. Trying to grasp it by speaking about in the open makes it vanish. Like waking too suddenly from an incomplete dream. But you don't feel at risk, something about the dark and the warmth and his hand on your forearm. "You're so full of shit--what happened to old man knees and arthritis and hip joint iss-"
"You're making up those last two."
There's silence for a brief moment and then laughter. A stupid burst of giggles that has you forgetting the little bit of normal left. Your forehead briefly falls down, your face pressing against his shoulder as you try to keep it down. He laughs with you after a second, a reluctant, almost annoyed display of amusement.
You're still recovering, breathing a little heavier than usual and coming back enough to realize that this level of closeness may be pushing it. You lift your head just as Joel's hand finds a place between your shoulders. First a fist and then his fingers patiently relaxing. You don't think you've ever been this still in your life.
"I can't keep track of all your old man ailments," it's a whisper that's more against his skin than not.
He lets out a breath, "You needed me to help you onto a horse today."
You halfheartedly glare even though you're too pressed into him for him to be able to see you. "I could do it by myself now." Likely a lie, considering it had only taken a second with Joel's help and the concept of casual horse riding still feels foreign. "I just hadn't ridden one before."
His hand shifts up your back, an unbelieving hum escaping him. Has Joel always been this warm? And somehow both so evidently sturdy but still comfortable? Safe? You don't know what possesses you, maybe it's the urge to not feel so divided from him in any way, but you turn head slightly to make it easier to speak: "You're not actually that old."
He pauses at that, fingertips freezing against the fabric of your pajama shirt. "Older than you."
You let out a sigh, feeling like there's a hint of something else tucked into his words that you're too tired to explore. "So?" He lets out another flat breath, a sound you don't quite understand but makes you want to compensate, "You can get old, though, when it's your time."
He shifts in a way that feels like a combination of stifling a laugh and a display of a touch of reluctant curiosity. "You givin' me permission?"
"Not like that," you shake your head against his arm, "I just--I don't know--I think it'd be good if you got to be old with arthritis and bad hip joints and whatever else happens. It'd mean you were still alive."
You don't realize what you're saying until the words slip out. The blankness of your statement is too honest and you blame the fact that you're actually starting to feel like you could benefit from the sleep you've been putting off. It's instinctual to turn into him in a vain attempt to get closer even though you're already hanging onto him in a way that feels ridiculous. Your fingers curl in to him a little more, clutching at the surprisingly soft fabric of his shirt.
It's a subtle change, but you're not surprised that Joel notices. You are, however, not expecting him to understand. The hand on your back draws up even further, pushing you against him more firmly. Maybe Joel did have a point. Good pressure.
"Don't go thinkin' about it."
For once, you want to listen to him without putting up a fight just to see that line between his forehead reappear. But you can't. It's not that easy. Even here, as safe as it's ever going to get, there's still a chance of loss. And even if the world was perfect and Joel could guarantee that there would never be a dangerous patrol or anything threatening him again, there are still other things that worry you. There's no reason for you all to stay together.
When your only response is to halfheartedly nod so that he can feel the motion, Joel lets out a partial sigh. The movement of his chest is more noticeable than the sound. His hand travels down the expanse of your back, something you only recognize because of the warmth his touch leaves in its wake. You're only half there until his fingers brush against a small expanse of exposed skin where your sleep shirt had ridden up. Nothing insanely suggestive, nothing that should be considered too intimate. It's likely an accident, too. It's too dark for it to be intentional.
Knowing this is not enough to keep your body from tensing. Joel's fingers move upwards with no warning, slipping between the only layer dividing you. The cotton of the T-shirt is trapping him and the heat of his touch as his hand settles on your hip.
"You here?" His question is low, like he's trying to compensate for the hint of worry leaching into his tone. "With me?" The second part of the question is an afterthought, said so quickly and earnestly it feels like an impulse.
You're melting, and you don't mind it all. In fact, you're starting to think you might prefer it. "For now, at least."
It's half joke, half something else. A punch that some cynical, over worrying part of your brain needs to throw. You hope he won't see past the shell of humor, but feel the uphill battle in his silence. In the eventual drag of his thumb across the curve of your hip. The gesture is a contradiction in itself--small and cautious yet so natural. What should feel foreign is so familiar it coats it all in a layer of intimacy that's difficult to just sit with.
An odd sense of almost panic that makes it impossible to think settles in you. Something in you feels like it's burning, a slow fire that's patiently spreading. You don't know if you want him closer or farther or something in between.
The mix of unknown emotions is enough to distract you from your derailing train of thought. Maybe that's the point. Some strategy on Joel's end to force a mental reset. If it is, it's working. You wouldn't say you're breathing any better or more calmly, you're just more aware of the way air enters your lungs and filters right back out. The world seems to be reduced to that. Just your breathing. And Joel.
The little of him you can make out in the dark and the feel of him everywhere without him feeling close enough. He's steady, secure in his firmness like he's some immovable force. Joel is also starting to feel like a natural heater, radiating just enough warmth to make everything comfortable.
What is wrong with you today? These thoughts might be more dangerous than the other ones. They're definitely close to being more overwhelming. All of this has to be in your head, the result of all the feelings you've been attempting quell all day culminating and a touch of something else. The thoughts about Joel that you've been fighting against since you first met him finally winning.
Every time you've forced yourself to stare at your hands after the edge of Joel's shirt rode up as he reached for something or moved a certain way. Every stray thought that rooted itself in your mind like an invasive species while you patched him up after a rough day. Every painfully overwhelming moment where you let yourself get distracted by his hands for reasons you could never justify. Those same hands are on you right now.
Okay--you need to get it together. Stop playing at something that's definitely all in your head. Your eyes drift up, searching for Joel's expression in an attempt to convince yourself to be normal. To remind yourself what's at risk if you don't get what you've been begging yourself not to let be actual romantic feelings in check.
He's already looking at you, eyes focused and jaw so tense you can tell from your position. Joel presses his lips together. The hand that's on you shifts upwards. Nothing drastic, but the heat of his pinky is now melting into the skin above your ribs.
You have to bite your tongue to keep from letting a shaky breath escape you. It's too much and nowhere near enough. It's another contradiction that throws you through a loop. You need him closer and the desire twists at you even further. There's a level of hesitant care in all levels of him. In his touch, in the way he's watching you. Like he just can't help it.
It's so overwhelming you have to do something. So you do the only thing you can think of. You reach out to him. Your hand finds his upper forearm.
The motion seems to shift things. Joel lets out a breath, but it's not the easygoing sound it was earlier. It's strained. "Y'should get some sleep."
You're not all that tired anymore, but his tone and your own confusion makes you want to listen. At least he hasn't done anything to imply that he's leaving.
A part of you wants to leave it at what it is. There's no reason to risk his presence by pushing. You don't know what that last moment was about, but Joel's earlier gruffness from today seems to be coming back. "You okay?" The question feels awkward hanging there on its own. "You've been moody."
The hand still under your shirt adjusts with him. "Moody?"
"Mhm." His fingers ghost up your spine, making it twice as hard to organize your thoughts. "More earlier than now, when..." God, you can barely remember with the way he's tracing patterns onto your skin. "When we were with that group?"
Joel's lips briefly pull into a frown. "I know that Jackson people are a little different than us, but trusting them all so soon--" He cuts himself off briefly. "Just don't think it's a good idea for you to accept it all so--"
He pauses as you shift against him as you move to sit up. Joel watches the separation with sharp caution. He doesn't ease until you settle again, your chin resting against his stomach. "Seriously?" It's a lighthearted enough disagreement. "I'm not overly trusting anything. I feel like a crazy person half the time because I feel like I should be staring down anyone that talks to Ellie or you for a second too long."
The confession eases Joel much more than it should. It's proof that he's been searching for...proof that he's needed. That you're still here. Still his and Ellie's above anything else.
But it's been an unsure couple of days. You're good with people, likable in a natural way. You know how to make people feel easy. It's not your fault that you're the natural communicator in the trio, and it's a good thing that at least one of you is inclined towards that sort of thing. It's just been harder than he thought, to watch people always talk to you, even if it's just a way of communicating something to all three of you. Especially when you smile or laugh as another way to ease them.
It's even worse when it happens to be other men. You don't see it, the way their eyes linger or their tendency to lean in just a little too close. Don't know the way your polite smiles and words draw them in. There isn't exactly a plethora of new women appearing daily, so your novelty is only an amplifier to all your good traits.
Tommy's been giving him shit about it. How long did you have to close the deal on that when you were her only option?
It was an almost brotherly form of teasing, but it still rubbed Joel the wrong way because of how true it is. He can't justify the bitter, protective vile that leaves his chest feeling too tight when he sees how well you fit. How easy it'd be for you to end up with one of the guys from here, closer to your age and a lifetime less of baggage.
Joel hates the breathlessness of it, hates that he has time to think about these kinds of things now. The resentment is too much, bubbles up and comes out in the form of something mean, "Doesn't always look that way."
It's not an overly done insult, and somehow that's worth. Joel's faint accusation is personal and it lands the way he knew it would. You sit up so quickly, Joel can't even try to stop you. "What the fuck does that mean?"
The bed is small, clearly meant for one. Sitting up didn't exactly accomplish what Joel has to assume was your goal--to create distance. You're still tangled together, only it's different now. You're practically sitting on his lap. His mind, which should be focusing on the fact that he's upset you, that he's pushing you in the exact direction he doesn't want you to go in, can only think of your sleep shorts.
Maria promised to get you some pajama pants as soon as some came in, but that hasn't happened yet. Winter makes clothing a little scarce, so you've been managing in a pair of elastic shorts. Thin, elastic shorts.
"Just that it looks like you've been getting comfortable. Trusting others, spending time with Ben."
Your lips pull into a firm pout. "I'm not going out of my way to trust shit. Yeah, I talk to a lot of people, but that's just because I rather that than have them talk to you or Ellie first. It--it feels safer that way."
There's such a genuineness in that, Joel almost feels bad, almost feels the need to back step. But your indignation at the implication that you're trying to leave is too alleviating. Until you try to crawl towards the edge of the bed. Away from him.
Joel props himself up on his elbow and reaches for you. His hand finding your forearm feels like giving something up. A silent, too raw plea for you not to go. He knows it isn't quite that in so many words, but you understand. You always do in your talent for feeling the way he bends for you when he can.
For a moment, that's it. Just his hand on your arm, still perched on the edge of the bed, still flighty. One move and you might be gone. It'd be so easy.
Joel's never really considered himself a pissing on his territory type of person or one to be found of dependents, but he'd be lying if he didn't say Jackson didn't worry him. He's not an idiot, he knows he's been rough to travel with and that he's taken time to get to here, but you've always stayed close. Some of that must have been influenced by survival.
Not that Joel wants you to stick around because you have no other choice. He'd never use that against you, it's just something that he wonders about from time to time. A fear that this might be how he finds out that's the only reason the two of you have been together for so long.
He's been thinking about loss more lately. After the decision he made, after what almost happened to Ellie. Losing Sarah left him stagnant for 20 years and some days that grief still flares up and makes breathing feel impossible. It's a wound that will never fully heal, and maybe that's for the best. Hurt means not forgetting, but Joel knows he doesn't have anymore of that left in him.
What if he did just fuck everything up? Not just for him, but for Ellie as well. He sees the way she looks at you, like you're everything. He's peered into your mornings together, the world that is your little routine and your inside jokes. If he messed all of that up because he only knows how to be an asshole when any type of feeling comes up...
Joel knows action better than he knows words. Caring is easier an action, and so is apology. His hand releases your forearm, trailing down your arm and settling on your exposed thigh. When you don't push him away or try to move, Joel feels like he can fully inhale again.
"You know my priorities, right?" Your voice sounds more hesitant than before. Nervous. "It's you and Ellie. It's been you and Ellie and nothing's going to change that. It doesn't matter if we're here for two more days or two more decades."
A pinch of guilt rises in his chest. Normally that level of promise would make him feel the need to cut all ties. Safer that way. But Joel doesn't want to hold you at arm's length, not right now. Carefully, his hand moves forward, closer to your inner thigh than knee.
He should say something. Admit to his own insecurity or apologize. "I know," is all that comes out, even though it doesn't really matter, you have every right to walk away. Your eyes still soften, though, like he managed to come close to saying what you needed to hear. "I shouldn't have said that."
His hand moves up even further and this time you have to react, your breath catching itself on your throat. The noise fucking gets to him. Gets to him in a way nothing has in a minute.
"You're kind of an asshole, sometimes," it's breathed out in a way that feels like you're accepting his apology, "And it's only going to get worse as you settle into your old age."
There it is. The joke was forced through the uneven timbre of your breathing, but it's there. All you, all forgiveness in the way the corner of your mouth turns upwards.
Joel's thumb drags across the soft skin of your inner thigh, "So now I'm already there?"
You blink, unsure on how to react to anything with his hand tenderly working the skin of your inner thigh. Everything in you is only capable of focusing on the feeling, of chasing it. "Getting there." Joel's thumb and pointer finger briefly pinch at your skin in a way that has to be intentional, right? His touch is approaching the end of your shorts.
The closer he gets, the worse the distance feels. Your face feels like it's burning at the thought. This is Joel, not some random guy that things could be casual with. Or maybe he could be casual, but you--god, you're getting ahead of yourself. This isn't--it--
"Too old?" Joel stretches forward, sitting up a little more. "You lookin' for younger like Ben?"
There's something odd in his tone. A flat attempt at humor that misses because it's too straightforward. Ben. Again. This is the second time his name's come up tonight. Why? And that's not even the strangest part. His assumption is what sticks out the most.
"I'm not..." Fuck, his hands are killing you. "I'm not looking. Not actively and if I..." Okay, it's officially too much, he's turning you into a transparent puddle. His hand pauses and pulls back down, settling on your knee. Firmly. Unbudging in a silent demand to continue.
He traces circles onto your knee with his thumb. "You can say it," he encourages in a way that feels like he's patronizing you.
The words feel like too much. Some lines might have been crossed today, but nothing life changing. You two could still dismiss the whole thing, crawl beneath thin sheets, fall asleep, and wake up the next morning like nothing ever happened. But his hands on your thigh and the needy ache you're not sure you fully understand it left you with. And what it felt like to have him closer.
Joel's sitting up fully now, waiting. "If I was looking, it wouldn't be at Ben, it'd be..." His hand calmly trails back to its previous spot on your leg with each of your words. Fuck, you're struggling to think again. "At you."
At that, his fingers push upwards, touching directly between your legs. "Really?" He's quick to create a steady rhythm, pulsing his pointer and middle finger at a speed that makes it impossible to breath. Your eyes screw shut so tightly you see stars. "You're so wet, can feel it through those shorts of yours."
The way Joel's voice catches on itself makes a weak sound slip out. You'd be embarrassed by it if he gave you the chance to be, but before you can even think twice about it, Joel's free hand finds the back of his head. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls you forward so harshly you try to gasp. The sound doesn't make it out, Joel's mouth is on yours before it has a chance.
He holds you against him as he takes his time pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth and letting his tongue glide over the bites. Your mouth opens for him instinctually, asking for more.
Joel's taking his time and moving at a speed that has him everywhere all at once as his fingers continue to work you through the fabric that divides you. He releases you with no warning, the hand at the back of your head finding a new place right beneath your chin. His fingers pause, forcing out an instinctual whine.
He's panting near your ear in a way that makes you miss his touch even more. "So this is all for me, sweetheart?" His eyes flit from your face back down to your lips.
Even though the question is dripping with roughness, there still manages to be a hint of something else there. Something genuine. It doesn't matter, though, because all you have the willpower to do is nod. Joel turns his head, pressing a kiss to your temple that's so close to tender it leaves you spinning. He trails the barely there kisses down to your ear before whispering, "Then prove it."
The word's send a jolt through you. "Prove it?"
Joel tugs you closer, you listen clambering back to where you were before trying to leave. Joel rests his back against the wall and makes a point of extending one leg. You don't fully get it until he's helping you ease onto his thigh. The material of his sweats is nowhere near enough.
"Joel--"
"Sh," he hums, soothingly as he runs a hand up and down your back, "It's okay, sweetheart." The hand that's still on your hip squeezes firmly. "I've got you, y'know that." He helps pull you forward on his thigh and the pressure after so long without nothing hits you harder than you thought it would. "There you go," you push down harder, faster, "Just like that."
The longer you go, the more Joel encourages you, whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement as the knot in your stomach continues to grow until your body feels it. You're seizing up, body ready to throw itself off of a ledge. Your thigh squeezes around his leg, which must be how Joel knows you're close, because before you can find release, his hand is leaving your back and moving onto your arm. In one, fluid motion that should be impossible, he flips you two.
Your back is on the mattress and Joel's above you, pinning you in place with his body. You can feel him, all of him, hard and struggling between the layers that divide you.
Your lips part, but you don't know what to say. You're still reeling from your stolen orgasm, and you're not sure if you want to curse him out for it or simply ask why and how. Bad back your ass the way he just turned the two of you over with no real effort.
Before a single sound can come out of you, Joel folds the edge of the T-shirt you sleep in, exposing your stomach. A fluttery kiss to newly exposed skin. Again and again until he has to push up even more of your shirt to continue. "This," his voice comes out lower, harder as he tugs at the fabric, "Off."
You sit up just enough to help him tug the shirt off as quickly as possible. The desperation makes it harder than it ever should be to take off a shirt, but the offensive piece of fabric eventually finds its way to the floor.
The bareness you feel is startling, even in this level of darkness. Joel doesn't give you a chance to let your mind wander or insecurity take root. His mouth is exploring the newly exposed skin immediately. It's a rabid mix of love bites and placating the irritated marks with soft passes of his tongue and genuine, devoted kisses.
It's then that you realize there's a reason he's taking his time. He's definitely hard, you can feel him pressing against your thigh, but that doesn't matter to him. He's taking his time because he can. Because he's enjoying it, getting off on having you writhing and desperate under him.
"Joel," your voice is so small it feels like it belongs to someone else.
He pauses, lifting his head just enough that the scruff of his facial hair scratches comfortingly against your skin. A reminder that he's still him. "Yeah, sweetheart?"
You carefully lift a hand, making sure your movements are easy to follow in the dark. Joel lets your fingers settle in his hair. "Need more-need you."
"I know, sweetheart." His voice is low and soft, impossible to not trust. "You can wait a little longer." His teeth drag against your skin again. "Can't you, baby?"
Fuck, he could ask you anything like that and you'd have to say yes. "Mm."
He takes it as the answer it's supposed to be. Joel goes back to it until his fingers finally snag around the elastic band of your shorts. In one swift motion, he tugs it and your underwear away, leaving you fully exposed. He gives no warning before moving his mouth to your thighs, slowly moving up until the only thing left is your center.
With no warning, Joel licks through your folds. You practically cry out. "I know, sweetheart," he mumbles, barely looking up, "You can take it."
After that, he picks up the pace. Just as you think you're going to get used to the overwhelming pleasure, Joel moves his hand down your waist to use his thumb against your clit. Fuck. You're panting, whining, begging.
Joel groans. "You're close, I can feel you." His fingers replace his mouth, "You gonna come?" Another whine, like your body has forgotten how to make any other sound. "Yeah?" He's picking up the pace, pushing his fingers into you in a way that hits you somewhere deep. "Come on my fingers, sweetheart, I've got you."
His pace reaches its peak and his thumb works at your clit until you're finally pushed over the edge. Joel reaches you before you can scream, muffling the sound of your orgasm by pressing his lips to yours.
You can taste yourself on his tongue as he works you through your high. Joel knows when to stop, when the pleasure comes close to bordering on painful, he moves his hand back up your waist and focuses on just kissing you.
After a few minutes, you regain control of your thoughts. The urge to pull him closer takes over once again. Without thinking, you're tugging at the hem of his shirt. You almost think twice about it, but decide that it's only fair. He's touched so much of you and seen even more. All while fully clothed.
You're not as good or tactful about it as he is, likely due to the gap in your experience, but Joel picks up on what you want. He pulls away cautiously, eyebrows furrowing together like he's debating before finally giving in.
He discards his shirt just as carelessly as he got rid of his own. Joel tries to reconnect the two of you together again before you can take full note of him. It's a tactic you find the strength to beat, turning your head just enough to indicate that you're pausing.
Joel allows that, stills against with no protest. The silent promise that it's your pace is comforting. You let your eyes rake over his chest in what you hope is subtle, but really doubt actually comes off that way. You can feel him tense under your gaze. You stretch out a hand carefully, touching him because you can. Your attention focuses on the details that you can make out despite the limited light. A few marks of varying sizes are visible across his skin.
Scars. You wonder how many of them there are and the stories behind each. What it'd feel like to touch and learn each of them until they're as familiar as the lines of your palms. Your hand drifts down, faintly touching a particularly long mark.
Joel's hand moves, catching your wrist before you can make it any further. You frown up at him. "I want--"
"I--" He cuts himself off, unsure on how to explain it. You deserve to know what a war it will be to get him to open up, but he doesn't want that to change things. "Not yet, okay?" He squeezes your hand in his. "I'm not an easy person to care about, to get close to, but I--I can try to--"
"I disagree." He frowns at being cut off, but lets you continue. "And you don't have to worry about forcing anything right now, whatever you have to give, that's what I want."
That's all it takes. Joel crashes his mouth to yours, holding you there for much longer than before. He shifts away just enough to be able to pull down his pants. He strokes himself briefly before lining himself up with your entrance.
Joel enters you with no warning, easing himself in until your hips are pressed together. You're a mess despite his soothing words. He pulls back and pushes back, again and again until all you're seeing is white, blinding pleasure. "Fuck!"
"You're squeezin' me so good, sweetheart," his groans are hot and heavy against the shell of your ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he's losing his tact, his movements becoming more and more desperate. "You gonna come with me?"
You nod, eyes screwing shut as Joel picks up the pace until you're a mess again. He clamps a hand over your mouth as your second orgasm hits you fast and hard. It takes all of Joel's strength to pull out before finishing.
He lets himself relax against you after, a mess of sweaty limbs as you both recover. After a minute, Joel sits up. "You leaving?"
Joel brushes back your hair out of your face gently. "No, sweetheart, just need to get something to clean you up, okay?" You're about to protest again, but Joel beats you to it, "You don't want to sleep like this." When your only reaction is to pout up to him and cling to his arm, Joel leans down and finds a shirt to offer you. "Ellie's an early riser that never learned how to knock. You want to deal with this in the morning while pretending you're not?"
That's a point that sticks. You could probably explain Joel being in here early in the morning or he could climb out of your bed at first sunlight to keep this from being weird for Ellie...but your current state? Yeah, that's undeniable. "Come back?"
Joel squeezes your hand, taking a moment to watch your small expression fondly. "Promise."
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#the last of us fanfic#the last of us x reader#the last of us#tlou x reader#joel miller x reader smut#pedro pascal x reader smut#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller smut
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Hi, I'm Em!
It’s lovely to have you here <3
This blog is a safe space for kind people, all my LGBTQIA2S+ loves, and spiciness. It’s a dangerous one for bigots, terfs, and twats.
Love, peace, and good vibes,
LCP x
Divider from the incomparable @saradika
JOEL MILLER
Clot
summary: joel has lost something. but once he pieces himself back together, he'll remember what it is.
Need To Know
summary: 1k of horniness with dbf!joel
FRANKIE MORALES
Pickup Truck
summary: frankie hates your boyfriend. in fact, everybody does. but he’s willing to give him a chance. you’re his best friend, after all.
until frankie discovers something he can never forgive.
Tommy's Party
summary: your handsome new roommate spells trouble.
or, a bunch of times you and frankie nearly fuck. and then one time you do.
pt. i - you and your friends
pt. ii - tommy's party
DIN DJARIN
let me be needed
summary: the mandalorian pays you an unexpected visit. you both get more than you bargained for.
LUCIEN FLORES
mutual
summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice.
but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.
DAVE YORK
sedated
summary: you and dave are no strangers to this business, to death. so there can be no harm in relying on each other in a time of need.
JOEL MILLER X FRANKIE MORALES X SANTIAGO GARCIA X F!READER
listen
summary: you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel.
swept off your feet by the sweet southerner, and charmed by pope, the boys come together to show frankie exactly what it is he’s missing.
watch
summary: after showing frankie what he was missing, something seems to have been awoken in you all.
with joel away on a contract and santi called out of town, you're left in frankie's care. except one rule still stands - you can't touch.
BONUS: al's handy guide to reading watch
#pedro pascal x reader smut#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller#joel the last of us#joel miller x reader#tlou#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#francisco catfish morales#javier pena narcos#javier pena smut#masterlist#pudding's list#pedro pascal x you#joel miller x you#frankie morales x you#joel miller smut#frankie morales smut#lucien flores x you#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores#lucien flores smut#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin smut
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Slow Hands: Pedro Pascal x reader (smut)
request: Hey dear! Could you write a history with daddy pascal? Maybe with a lot dirty talk + spoon position and pedro just going slowwww… 🫠🫣🤤 thank you! If you dont feel comfortable to write this I’ll understand ☺️
a/n: do y’all watch The Mandalorian? i was like wtf with that new character in the new episode. like totally did not expect that!
pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
summary: Pedro coming back from a boy’s night out with a little (large) something down his pants.
warnings: sexy time! slow sexy time (not a warning, just letting you know). unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it, lads).
word count: 1,000
The bed dipped behind you under the weight of your lover. You hummed in delight as you stretched the sleep out of your limbs. He climbed into bed and slipped under the covers, pulling you against him. He had stripped down to his underwear, his clothes long forgotten on the apartment’s floor.
“Well hello to you too.” you mumbled tiredly as his erection pressed against your ass.
“Sorry.” He laughed, not sorry at all. “I missed you so much, sorry I got back late.” he kissed your neck, burying his face in your hair.
“It’s fine...” you sighed. “You enjoyed your boys night out?” you giggled, his moustache tickling you.
“Yeah, it was nice but I missed you like crazy.” he pressed his hips against you.
You wiggled your butt against him, feeling arousal flood your senses. You reached for his hand and placed it between your legs. Pedro complied, getting his fingers to work, doing what he knew so well to do. You hummed happily against the feeling, pressing yourself against him.
His fingers circled your clit through your pyjama shorts before slipping under your shorts. You hummed as his experienced fingers touched you, squeezing your thighs at the sensation. Pedro hooked his leg around yours, pulling them apart to get better access. You complied, eager to feel more.
Pedro’s pace quickened, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You curled your toes, gripping the sheet and pressing against him. Your mouth fell open in silent moans, his name filling the quiet room.
“You like that, mi amor?” he groaned, pressing himself harder against you.
You nodded in response, reaching behind you to kiss him. Your tongue licked his lower lip, taking it between your teeth and tugging. You slipped your tongue inside his mouth, sliding it over his and moaning into his mouth as he quickened his pace.
You turned back around, shutting your thighs so we would stop moving. You could tell you were close and wanted to feel him in you. You slipped your shorts down to your knees and, reaching behind you, pulled his cock out of his pyjama shorts. He pushed his own shorts down to his knees and flattened his hand against your lower stomach, pulling you flush against him.
You stroked him twice before lining him up with yourself. Unanimously, you let out a sigh of content as he slid into you. Once he was fully inside of you, he stilled. Pedro buried his face in your hair, taking in your sweet scent. Patiently, you waited for him to move and when he didn’t, you clenched your insides.
“Alright, alright.” he chuckled before sliding out of you and slowly sliding back in. “You want me to fuck you like this? Nice and slow?”
“Yes daddy, fuck me, please.” You sighed again, feeling at ease as he leisurely slid in and out of into you. Each time he slid back in, he slammed his hips against you, making you jolt and gasp. His hand that had been resting on your stomach smoothly glided down between your legs, his fingers immediately found that one spot that made you moan and whine.
“Daddy...” you whimpered.
“Mhmm, good girl.” he said, slamming harder into you - your body jolting upwards and tits bouncing - and fingers starting to draw small circles, each movement inciting a moan from you. “Moan louder for me.”
His other hand snaked around your body to find your breasts, squeezing in time with his hip thrusts, his fingers pinching your nipples, mirroring his movements as he played with your clit.
“You like it when I fuck you?” he hummed. You whined in response and his movements slowed. “Your tits are perfect.” he groaned, voice low and hot.
“Yes daddy, you fuck me so well.” you moaned.
He rolled his hips against you, his motions slow-paced and relaxed, like he had all the time in the world. He continued playing with your body, making you moan and shudder in pleasure.
“I think I’m close.” you mumbled, your mind fogging up as you got closer.
“Come for me, let me feel you. I want to fill you up with my cum, is that okay baby? Is that what you want?”
“Yes- yes, fuck, yes, daddy, yes.” you whimpered.
Pedro slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming more defined and with greater force. You gasped as he slammed into you and felt pleasure roll over your body like waves. You gripped his arm, digging your fingers into his flesh, and felt him cum inside of you.
Panting, you both came down from the high and laid there, his cock still inside you. You clenched your thighs, making him wince and making you giggle. You pressed your sweaty back against his firm chest, wanting to feel his warmth against you.
“That was good.” you breathed softly, his arms had collapsed over you and you had started drawing shapes over them.
“You were perfect.” he brushed away your hair that had fallen over your shoulder and kissed the sweaty skin there. “Mmm you taste nice.” he grumbled.
You whined as he began moving, his cock slipping out of you. He pulled the covers off from you, a gentle breeze hardening your nipples. You groaned and stretched, feeling exposed in the best way possible.
“Fuck, you are perfect.” he positioned himself at your knees, pulling your hips towards him. His cock was beginning to harden again and you felt the anticipation build inside you.
“Daddy come back.” you said, staring at him as he lowered himself between your legs.
“Look at my cum drip out of you, you are fucking perfect.” He scooped the cum that had began dripping down your thighs and shoved two fingers inside of you, pushing everything back in.
You giggled as he started crawling back over you, a cheeky, lazy smile you knew meant dirty things plastered on his face, and lined himself against you. You were in for a long, slow night...
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x reader smut#pedro pascal x reader fluff#pedro pascal x reader fanfic
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"Over and Done With" - Javier Peña
Read it Here
He takes you by the wrist to stop you from pushing him, and his other hand lifts up your chin and forces you to look into his eyes. They are dark with lust and menace.
"Fine, baby, we can stop." He says, a sweet tone to his voice that you know is too good to be true. "On one condition."
"What?" You respond, somewhat breathlessly, still lost in the sensation of his heady presence.
"You let me slide a finger up your skirt. If you're not dripping wet for me, I'll let you go."
#javier pena x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena fanfic#narcos smut#narcos fanfiction#narcos fanfic#narcos fic#javier pena imagine#javier pena one shot#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x reader smut#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal cinematic universe#pedro pascal x reader smut#javier pena smut#agent pena smut#agent pena fanfiction
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Sweet little cotton.
WARNINGS!!:heavy smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral m face fuck, roough sex (but such fluffy aftercare), orgasm denial , poorly translated spanish (i suck at anything but english and danish) requested by the lovely sunnythebunny7 <33
You had just gotten up and you felt so sore from the night before. You stretched as your tail spun in circles and your ears twitched, pedro walked out of the bathroom with a towel covering his modesty as he sat down next to you while rubbing your head.
“oh good morning my sweet little girl. how did you sleep?” he asked while ruffling your hair and lightly tugging at your ears, “my back is blown out thanks to you but I slept fine thanks for asking..” you lightly growled at him. I mean you were groggy and cranky but growling? you wouldn’t dare.
pedro looked at you and frowned, it was early so y’know... you’re not in the right state of mind just yet, “ no conejita, we don’t growl. That’s how you end up not being able to walk. now what do you say?” he cooed at you, that set you off.
“I shall politely say, vete a la mierda” you spoke before laying back down, you heard pedro huff then he got up and pulled you up with him. “you say sorry now or you will not enjoy this morning.” pedro looked into your eyes and as soon as you opened your mouth to let out a snarky comment, pedro dropped you onto your knees while uncovering the towel, “you can use your mouth in a different way then.” before you could respond, he shoved his cock down your throat and held it there. simply admiring the bulge in your throat and the tears filling your eyes.
After giving you some time to just warm his cock he began thrusting hard and fast, before long his hips stuttered and he came hot white ropes down your throat. “you spit that out and i’ll use a belt instead of my hand when i punish you.” He lifted you off the ground and set you down on the bed before ripping your shorts and underwear off “you don’t need those now will you pequeña niña mala?” you softly giggled at the “nickname” as pedro slid into your warm velvety heat and oh my it took everything so that he didn’t bust right there.
He began slow and soft to prepare you before speeding up and getting slightly rougher, “mm!!~ i-i’m gonna~” you moaned out before pedro slowed down and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you close. “nuh uh. you’re gonna hold it yeah? my conejita is gonna hold until I say so.” he chuckled before completely pulling out and thrusting back into you harder. The knot in your stomach got bigger and bigger as you started to whine, “ please!~ need to cum so bad!!~” you moaned out as pedro lets out low guttural groans as his thrusts get sloppier, “go ahead, cum with me pet.” you came with a scream of his name as his finished inside of you.
“now let’s get you all cleaned up for today. Your punishment still awaits later though.” pedro lifted you up and placed you into the tub before getting in with you as you leaned against his chest and slowly drifted off again. “you are so adorable. My sweet little cotton.”
TO BE CONTINUED MAYBE?
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mine truly and forever || j. miller
summary: joel comes back to you in whatever way he can. part two of “yours truly and forever”.
warnings: smut, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk
word count: 4k
A/N: this took me awhile to get out, sorry everybody! also, i really didn’t plan on writing a part 2 to this, but the demand was really high. not my best work, so i just fed you all with smut instead lmao
here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!
You had long since given up hope that Joel was coming back for you.
Every morning, you woke and swallowed down the tightening in your throat, the knot in your stomach. You believed he had moved on. Maybe he found his brother and settled down with Ellie.
Anything was better than what was most likely. Anything was better than him being dead.
You rose with the sun and fell with it too, wondering every day if you’d ever see him again. If you’d ever get to laugh with him, or cry with him, or touch him. Some part of you thought that, maybe, your night spent together was just his desperation for some human touch. All you were to him was a way to satiate his desire. Maybe.
You tried not to think about it, but the thought of him him him seeped into everything you did. Feeding the cows? You thought about Joel. Harvesting? You thought about Joel. Cooking? You thought about Joel. Laying awake at night, eyes flitting across the darkness, searching for something? You thought about Joel.
So, yeah, you’d given up on the idea of him awhile ago.
It had been two years since that night. The night you gave yourself wholly to him. The night you let him into the most intimate parts of your body and soul. Since you let him crawl through you, seeing into your depths.
The first few months after him were honeyed in hope. When your alarm went off, signaling something was trying to breach your perimeter, you rushed to the camera and prayed it was Joel. It was always just some stray infected or moose or something that wasn’t him. As the snow melted, your heart was loyal. You breathed in the belief of his words every morning. The slush on the ground a reminder that he’d be safer in the warm weather, that he’d come back to you sooner. The summer was warm. Your garden thrived, preparing for his return. You ate strawberries on your porch and basked in the golden sun, soaking in the heat. Your skin dripped in sweat, heart dripping in steadfast hope.
In the winter, you faltered. You still hoped for his return, you still believed in his promise, but you started thinking about other possibilities. Though, you rarely entertained them. Another spring passed. And another summer. Another fall, winter, and spring. It was summer now, but the heat was more suffocating, the sunshine more of a nuisance.
Over the last winter, you grit your teeth and weathered your bones. You felt betrayal, deep in your gut. Had he lied? Just to keep you solitary? To keep you from chasing after him? To keep you away?
You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Did you?
You didn’t know.
You had given him everything, but he couldn’t keep a promise.
You forced yourself to separate the idea of him from who he really was. He was a man before he was yours. He craved the life that would offer him something to do. He craved you, but didn’t he crave others? Did he crave you, or did he crave someone to take care of him?
Who was Joel Miller? Who was he, and who was he to you?
Was he even the type to come back to you? No. Probably not. Not when he’s lived through this for 22 years. Not when he’s seen his friends die. Not when he’s killed. He wasn’t the type to lay down and become a farmhand.
Besides, you saw the way he looked at Ellie. Part of you was sure that he’d never leave that girl. She meant more to him than he’d ever say. He was never just yours. He never would be.
So you shoved the thought of him to the corners of your mind, rejecting it endlessly. You’d never let yourself think too hard about him, only ever letting his image flit about your mind like a lost butterfly. You shut him out and never sought him out again.
Another morning fell into your lap. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sound of alarms ringing out through the property jolted you awake. You rolled your head to the side to stretch a sore muscle, hand reaching under your bed for your rifle. No reason for alarm. Whatever it was, a stray infected or an animal, no doubt, would fall into one of your traps, or you’d pick it off without wasting a single bullet. All in a day’s work.
You slid on the first pair of shoes you could find, slipping out the door and making your way towards where the camera had signalled the breach. You groaned as you realized just how early it was, the sun barely illuminating the ground you stepped on.
You held your rifle out as your eyes scanned the fence line. Nothing. It must have been one of the traps that set off the alarm. Sighing, you push the buttons on the padlock and it opens the gate.
Moving to the nearest trap, you peek the muzzle of the rifle into the hole. It was still dark, but you made out a figure standing at the bottom of the pit.
“Move and I’ll fucking shoot you,” you yelled. No response, just the sound of heavy breathing. “You infected?”
Your name was whispered into the air like a breath of something you never thought you’d hear again. That beautiful, rugged, rich voice. The voice that you loved, so dearly. The voice that you hated.
“Joel?”
“It’s me, honey,” he was breathless. It was almost as if it was his first moment of rest in twenty years.
Your heart skipped a beat, breath faltering for a moment. You didn’t let the tears threatening to pool in your eyes spill. Instead, you threw your rifle to the side and got on your knees, reaching into the dark pit. “Take my hand.”
Extending your hand, you almost immediately felt his large, rough one envelop yours. You used most of your strength to pull him up, him hoisting himself up once he got a good grip. He falls on top of you with the momentum, catching himself before his figure crushes yours. You could feel his heavy breath on your face, painting invisible lines of what you both want. A sea in his eyes, pooling with everything that’s happened since he left you, with everything he wanted to say, everything he wants to say. You lean into him a little, breath hitching and brows furrowing when he finally attaches his lips to yours.
It was like an oxygen mask, breathing you to life. It was more desperate than any kiss you had shared. He was here, in your hands. He was alive. He was heart and flesh and blood and he was with you again.
Your arms pulled him in close until he groaned into your mouth. You pulled away to study his face. He didn’t meet your eyes, instead, absorbing every feature of your face that he had missed for so long.
You began to lift his shirt to see why he had groaned, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.
“Joel,” you warned. “Lift up your shirt.”
“Take me to dinner first, hey?” He chuckled. He was stalling. He didn’t want you to see whatever was under his shirt.
You gave him a warning look before he gave in. Sitting up, you gently lifted his shirt. There wasn’t a concerning amount of blood for once, just small lacerations here and there that might need a few stitches. However, the skin underneath the marks was full of vibrant purples and blues and yellows, painted across the flesh of his abdomen like some sick piece of art. A small gasp left your lips at the sight, but Joel tilted your chin up to look at him, pulling his shirt down with his other hand.
“Just fell, darlin’. I’d do it all again to get to you.”
Heat spread across your face, tinting your cheeks. All the resentment you had for him fizzled away (but was it really resentment if you could forgive him with just one kiss? Or maybe that was just the power Joel had over you).
“Let me patch you up, cowboy,” you said as you stood up, grabbing your rifle and pulling him up with you. “Come on.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Leading him through the house by his hand, the silence settled nicely. Something unspoken lingered between you two, remnants of what happened still drifting. Ideas of what might happen were tempting.
You led him to the bathroom, instructing him to sit on the counter. You opened the cabinet and grabbed everything you’d need.
“It’s like every time we meet, you’re on the verge of death, Miller,” you said as you laid your supplies out.
He grunted. “Not on the verge of death right now, honey. Just a little banged up, is all.” You told him to take off his shirt. He did so without a word of protest. “I’m just lucky I’ve always got my favourite girl to patch me up.” His hands reached for you, wanting you to be close to him. He grabbed your hips and positioned you in front of him, between his legs. You didn’t look away from the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach.
“Not always, apparently,” you muttered under your breath as you began to dab his chest with a damp rag, washing away the brutality of what he went through to get to you. His brows furrowed, his hand moving to your wrist.
“Don’t be like that, honey.”
“Fuck you,” you whispered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and going back to your task. You were both silent as you cleaned his chest, both avoiding eye contact.
You grabbed the dated peroxide. “Might hurt.”
He nodded in acknowledgement. He made no noise when you applied it to the areas of concern, but the cords in his neck tightened nonetheless.
“Sorry,” you whispered, the desire to sooth him and shut him up with your mouth still clawing at you. He grunts in acknowledgement. You continued to clean him up, till all his wounds were stitched and his skin was clean of blood.
“Done,” you finally spoke, throwing out the dirty rags and cleaning up. You went to move past him to get out of the bathroom, but he slid off the counter and blocked your exit. Your face was only a few inches from his chest. “Joel,” you warned, “let me out.”
“Not 'till you tell me why you’re so mad at me, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff yet soft. His hands slid up and down your arms, which were on your hips.
You tried to push past him again, but he didn't budge.
You huffed, and his eyes softened, large hands moving to cup your face. “You don't know how much I missed you,” he said, brows furrowed.
You closed your eyes. “I do know.” You felt him press his forehead to yours, and you reciprocated, hands moving to hold his wrists. You didn't have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You just wanted him.
“Then let me show you,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips, driving you wild. Everything about him was intoxicating.
His lips found yours again, still needy and fervent, but there was something more. Something hungry. Something growing, something left over.
He pushed you against the bathroom counter, hands moving across your body, touching you everywhere, anywhere he could. His hands ghosted over your breasts, across your thighs, rubbing your hips, caging you in. You whined, “Touch me.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. I just need more,” you said, breathless.
At that, he placed you on top of the counter before he lifted your shirt from your body, “Nothin’ underneath? Knew I was comin’,” he said with a smirk. You were breathless as he kissed you again, sliding your pants off your body. He broke from your mouth to lay wet kisses on your neck and chest, biting and sucking his mark into your flesh.
You whimpered when he gently ran a finger over your clothed core, bucking into his hand, desperate for anything more. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, your slick already pooling in your panties. He didn't have it in him to tease you. Not today.
He slid your panties down your legs. You felt the heat of your core come in contact with the air, your slick beginning to drip down your thighs. He dropped to his knees, looking up at you with nothing but pure desire, want, need, and, dare you say, love?
He kisses the soft inside of both thighs, your hands tangling in his hair, before his face hovers over your soaked core. He pressed his head into the inside of your thigh, running a finger through your folds. You moaned at the seating contact, watching as he brought his finger to his lips and captured your slick on his tongue. He moaned, “Missed this pussy.”
He played with your clit experimentally, just to see how wet you could get without his saliva, before the tempting sight of your pussy collapsed him. He dove in like a man starved, licking and sucking, spreading your folds apart to get further inside. Your hands still fisted in his hair as you moaned. He draped one hand across your abdomen to keep you still, hips bucking up into his mouth.
His mouth was a magic ailment, drawing that familiar sensation from you in a matter of no time. The coil in your belly grew, hot and heavy, until his work on your cunt sent you over the edge, gripping his hair and moaning his name.
“That's it, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he said as he worked you through your high. When he noticed you squirming, whispering “s’too much”, he moved from your core and up to your mouth. Your hands spread across his chest, still bare, as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your juices were smeared across his face, glistening in the hair there.
“Take me to bed, cowboy,” you said against his lips.
“Yes Ma’am,” he breathed. He picked you up, wrapping your legs around his body, and carried you to your bedroom. You pressed kisses across his neck and chest as he moved.
When he laid you down on the bed, he caged you underneath him. You reached to his belt, unbuckling it and throwing it to the side. He removed his pants, and you began palming him over his boxers. He was rock hard, eating you out almost getting him there in itself.
“Please,” you said, nearly inaudible. “Will you let me taste you?” You stroked his bulge.
“Fuck, honey. How could I say no to that?”
You rolled so you were on top of him, freeing his thick cock from its constraint. He sat up on the edge of the bed, you sinking between his legs.
You stroked his cock, smearing the precum around the tip. He was sensitive. You could tell he hadn't had anyone since you, and he definitely didn't have the time to take care of himself. He groaned as you began giving kitten licks to his tip, hand fisting in your locks, not guiding you, just needing a place to find solace.
“Gonna be the end of me,” he groaned when you put him fully in your mouth. He threw his head back, tears pricking your eyes when you tried to take him all. He was desperate for his release, but he was desperate to release inside of you even more.
“Baby, m’ not gonna last. Wanna finish inside of you,” he groaned. You lifted your head from his cock, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth, eyes wet.
“So pretty. C’mere,” he said, gesturing to his lap.
You climbed atop him. “Wanna ride you,” you said, sucking into his neck.
“Fuck, okay. Okay, you can ride me honey,” he said. You were absolutely ruining him.
You kissed him silly, straddling his lap. He was so enamoured with you, everything you did. The way you tasted, smelled, sounded. He was pussy drunk.
You parted from him to run his tip through your entrance, still soaked with your cum and his saliva, collecting your wetness. Lining him up with your entrance, you moaned into each other’s mouths when you sunk down onto him. Allowing yourself a moment to feel him sheathed fully inside you, stretching you out, filling you up, letting your body remember the way you blended together, you kissed him with a renewed passion, something you thought had died.
You held onto his shoulders as support, his large hands gripping your hips, gritting his teeth. When you lifted yourself off of him and back down, you set a desperate pace, grinding yourself down on his cock.
“Not gonna last long, pretty thing,” Joel groaned, eyes fixed on where you were connected. You were too set on your release to care, you just knew you wanted him inside you forever.
“Don’t care,” you gritted out, panting and out of breath. The noises filling the air were downright unholy, but neither of you had it in yourself to care. “Want you to fill me up.”
Joel growled, “Fuck, honey. Fill you up so good, you’ll be dripping out of me. That what you want?” He asked, landing a smack to your ass as you bounced on his cock. You moaned. Your release was right around the corner, your cunt clenching hard on his cock, thighs beginning to tremble. Joel moved a hand to circle your clit, hell-bent on getting you there. “So pretty,” Joel said, almost whimpering. “So good for me. Squeezin’ me so good.”
His words went straight to the fire growing in your core, your slick pooling at the base of his cock. Finally, the coil snapped, your orgasm dancing down your legs and up your body. Your thighs and frame trembled as you tried, you really tried, to keep bouncing on his cock, but your thighs were too weak at this point to keep going. Fixed on release, Joel flipped you so you were caged underneath him, barely missing a beat before spearing his cock into you. He swallowed your overstimulated whimpers.
“Gonna make a mess out of you. Fuck, almost there,” he groaned.
“Inside, inside, please,” you choked out, still delirious from your previous orgasm. However, you felt another one building inside of you, the friction of his body as it rubbed against yours added to your previous stimulation was enough to get you there again. You lazily toyed with your swollen clit, not having enough energy to focus, yet you knew it wouldn’t take much.
Joel barely noticed your state as his hips faltered in their pace, hitting that sweet spot so good. You had barely any control left over your body, but as he groaned and the muscles in his front tightened, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up was enough to send you into a frenzy. He groaned into your neck, your loud, wanton moans filling the air. As he filled you to the brim, you shook underneath him, your third orgasm overtaking you.
When he had recovered, Joel looked down to where you both met, taking note of the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock. He grinned, still breathless, as he gently unsheathed himself from your core, watching you squirm and wrinkle your nose at the overstimulation. He laid down next to you, and you naturally curled into him.
It was still morning, the rest of the day still ahead of you, but as Joel pulled the blanket over the two of you and watched your chest heave, he had the feeling that time didn’t matter anymore.
Your eyes fluttered open and met his. You noted how sore your body was, but the pull at your heart was no match. He had been watching you sleep, watching as you cuddled into his warmth and trusted him enough to hold you as you slept. The bright daylight filled the room, lighting up all his features, shining on the pretty grey in his hair and beard.
“How’d you sleep, honey?” he asked, his voice gravelly. You could feel his heart beating as you laid against his chest.
You hummed, “Better than I have in a long time.”
He smiled. There was a soft silence for a while as you just looked at each other, his hand stroking the skin of your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead, down the bridge of your nose, and ending at your lips. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
Your easy grin faltered for a moment. “It’s okay. I just…” you breathed in, “I thought you were dead.”
He pulled you into his chest. “I’m okay. ‘M right here, darlin’.”
You leaned into his touch, basking in the knowledge that you weren’t going to lose him again.
“Come back to Jackson with me.”
“Jackson? In Wyoming?”
He nodded.
“Joel, that’s far…”
“I’ve made the trip twice now.”
You were silent for a few moments, thinking. He spoke again. “I know this is your home, and it’s been your home for years. And I-”
“Joel,” you cut him off. “Anywhere you go is my home. I’ll come to Jackson with you.”
Joel Miller’s smile was something rarer than diamonds or gold, but it appeared on his face as real as ever.
Joel kissed you like the world had never ended, like you were his world. That’s because you were.
A week of bliss later, you had packed everything you’d possibly think you’d need on one horse and two backpacks. You’d set all your cattle free to roam and disarmed your alarm system. You had made Joel map out your route to Jackson, ever the planner, going through every minute detail. Nights were spent wrapped around each other, and mornings were spent wrapped around the blankets. You spoke of the life you would have together in Jackson, spoke about Ellie, spoke about everything.
Often, you’d look up at Joel and be met with a punch to the gut. The idea that the man you spent two years of your life praying for, standing right in front of you? It hit you out of nowhere sometimes. It was hard to be thankful in a world like this, in a world that did nothing but take and take and take from you. It was hard to believe that he was really here, that the world gave you something good for once. Sometimes, you’d have to touch him, really touch him, just to make sure he was really here. Just to make sure you hadn’t finally gone crazy and started to imagine him.
You began to fear that the world was going to whisk him away from you. Maybe a clicker would get him, or maybe a stalker. Maybe you’d react too slow, too quick, too late, too poorly, and he’d try to save you. Maybe he’d get another infection. God knows that man does not take care of himself.
These fears plagued your mind day and night, awake and asleep. They brushed your thoughts when he touched you, fingers working you into a puddle, you melting into him. These thoughts were unspoken, never would they be said aloud, or they just might seize you in your sleep and become real.
When you got to Jackson, the fear of losing him never ceased, but you did come to realize something.
You realized that what you were feeling, this utter, disgusting dread and fear of losing the one you love the most, was completely natural.
You loved Joel with all of yourself, and you knew that if anything happened to him, you’d lose all of yourself too.
After so long, your hearts were molded to one another, holding on for dear life. And you’d spend that life together. Truly and forever.
series taglist: @winters-fairy @charlyrmv @gvfslayallday @cloudroomblog @lol-im-done @freyafriggafrey @jasminedragoon @daddy-din @dealswiththedevilsblog @coolchick333 @rizzetteee @m3laniehearts @fuglyputa24 @daixylie @mi0o @kissykris @c0wb0ym3nace @snixx2088 @randomstory56 @mmeerraa @doublevirgogirl @daydreamerblues @onlyrealjoy @happinessinthebeing @leathargic @violenttsoho @gingerdarkroast @intoxicatedapple @callsign-athena @cherriebat @sofiparallel @textsfromeponinet
tlou taglist: @jordie-gvf @sunxflowerxx @themusingkitten @anxiety-made @mmerraa
permanent taglist: @winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs
#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x reader fluff#joel miller x reader angst#the last of us#tlou#hbo's tlou#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x reader smut
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She’s a princess, and you’re a Mandalorian
That’s something no amount of potion will ever change
Din Djarin x reader
summary: A princess has fallen in love with a mandalorian, and he can’t seem to figure out why
a/n: reader is from the made up kingdom of Avana
word count: 824
Mandalorians do not love, it’s simply a fact. If someone so happens to fall in love with one it would never be a princess.
You met Din Djarin when he crashed outside of the grounds of your kingdom. Villagers who lived near the gates of Avana soon started to talk about the mysterious ship that landed in the forest.
“Princess! Have you heard?” One of your mothers advisors asked.
“Heard what?”
“The ship that crashed outside, near the forest,” she said.
“Is anyone going to help?” You wonder.
“Technically, it’s not our grounds, so we don’t have to,” she finished before getting back to her papers.
How could they do that? Just leave someone, presumably helpless all on their own? You honestly thought it was horrible how they decided to just look the other way. You decided to take the matter and do something about it.
You packed a small bag with food, water, first aid, and a small dagger just in case. As you approach the ship you can tell it’s been through a lot of damage. Half of it is lodged into the ground with plenty of scratches and marks to prove its been through hell and back.
You enter through the small opening on the side of the ship, prying open the metal.
“Maker,” you whisper to yourself as you take in your surroundings.
“Hello!” Your voice echoes through the ship, yet no response.
You search through each room until you reach the cockpit. You glide your hands on the panels and intricate details of the room. Your hand grazes over a leaver that’s clearly had the top screwed off, wondering how that would even happen.
You halt in your steps as you feel the front of a blaster pressed against your head. Your shaky hands are lifted in the air as you slowly turn around.
“Who are you?” A gruff, muffled voice says, less of a question and more of a demand.
“I just want to help you,” You say, slightly scared.
“Answer the question.”
“I’m the princess of the kingdom who’s gates you’ve crashed in front of,” You say slightly aggressively.
“We have mechanics, we can fix your ship,” you mention.
“They sent a princess to look at a shipwreck? Without backup? I’m doubtful,” He says, finally putting down his blaster.
Dank Farrick, he’s got a hot voice.
“You can trust me okay? If you do, you're more than welcome to stay in the castle. Have a bed, a warm meal,” you offer.
“What’s the catch?” He wonders.
“You have to talk to me. Have dinner with me, I swear you’ll enjoy it,” you promise.
He starts to wonder why you’re acting like this. Why you’re treating a stranger with such kindness.
“Fine,” he relents.
_
You send mechanics out to the wreck and you bring the man to your castle.
“It’s breathtaking don’t you think?” You ask him as you sit down at the table, pointing out the paintings on the ceiling.
“Quite,” he murmurs.
“What are you?” You ask, taking a spoonful of soup.
“I’m a mandalorian. I’m afraid I can’t take off my helmet to eat,” he admits.
“Oh that’s alright, I don’t mind.”
“Why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything to spark your kindness, so why?” He asks.
“I don’t know why, but I seem to have taken a liking to you. One that I cannot explain. But it’s a feeling I've had since we first met,” you smile.
Love. That feeling is love. You and the mandalorian both know it.
“What will it take for me to see your face?”
“We would need to be bonded by blood.” He says.
“Hm, interesting,” you say, eating more of your soup.
“I still don’t understand. You’re a princess, I am not the kind of person you should be taking a liking to.”
“Are you saying you don’t like me?” You wonder.
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying you shouldn’t like me.” He says.
“But I do! I really do. And, once your ship is fixed, I’d like to go with you wherever you’re going. I know that’s a lot to say but I think it would be nice.”
“It’s dangerous. It’s not the kind of place for someone like you. There would be a point that I won’t be able to protect you. And that’s something I'm not willing to do,” he admits.
“I know you might not believe it but I don’t need protection. I do just fine on my own,” You say, but you know he’s still not convinced.
The back and forth goes on between the two of you before he reaches a decision.
“If I take, and I mean if, you do whatever I say, when I say it. No questions, you just do it. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” you respond.
Din still doesn’t understand why you like, maybe even love him so much, but he definitely isn’t complaining.
#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x reader smut#pedro pascal x reader#the mandaloria/reader#the mandalorian x y/n#mandalorian x y/n#mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x you#star wars x reader
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Loved “Your Friends Hot Dad”! was wondering if you could write another sub pedro fic where the reader is edging him and he’s overstimulated to the point where he’s crying and begging. Maybe some anal play with him too?
Pairing: Sub!Pedro Pascal x Dom!Reader
Warnings: Edging, crying, cum eating, restricting, adults.
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: kinda the second part of 'Your Friends Hot Dad'. That story Helps with the context in the beginning. And thank you for liking the story.
(Not my gif.)
After what happened that night you spent at Pedro's house, you continued to visit his daughter every week to hang out like always, both you and Pedro acting as if nothing happened. He would still speak to you kindly but just not frequently anymore.
He hadn’t texted you either until one night after you dropped his daughter off. He texted just after she entered the house so you had time to read it before driving away.
“Y/n, Can you come in after (friend's name.) goes to sleep?”
You looked at the text and couldn’t help a smile spreading across your face starting to giggle before texting him back.
“Why should I, you've barely spoken to me since what happened?” The text lingered for a moment with his text dots disappearing and reappearing your heart slightly starting to beat faster.
“I’m sorry I been distant. I had to collect my thoughts about what was gonna happen between us.”
You read the message then bit your lip humming. “Alright, we can talk more in Person, text me when she’s asleep.”
You were excited to see Pedro like this again, it had only been a week but you wanted to touch him again and hear his groans and whimper. You already made up your mind, if he wanted to continue you would make him pay for treating you so differently this week. Of course, you understood but you could still torture him just a little. Despite being so excited, you were just as nervous. What if he had called you in there just to cancel everything and say he doesn’t wanna meet like that anymore?
“You can come in, the doors open.”
You read the text your heart beating fast as you opened your car door and stepped out heading to his house. You gradually opened the front door looking around before closing it behind you and slowly heading to Pedro's room. Reaching his room you took a deep breath before just opening it to Pedro sitting on the edge of his bed facing the door smiling when he saw you.
“Hey, sweetie.” He spoke standing up. You looked at him and couldn’t help but smile. “Hey. Do you have some you need to talk about?” You asked trying to keep your voice from sounding shaky. He nodded sitting back down patting the bed beside him nodding for you to come sit down. You looked at his daughter's door before walking into his room fully and closing the door behind you heading to sit next to him. He watched you putting his hand on your knee when you sat down patting it.
“I wanted to tell you that after collecting my thoughts I … want to continue doing things with you like before… But only if it’s okay with you.” You bit your lip the nervousness in your body quickly fading. “I mean, it would be fun. I’m just still upset you've treated me so differently this week.” You spoke trying to keep your voice from sounding excited.
He pouted squeezing your thigh. “I know baby.” “Then you must know how pissed off it made me.” You expressed cutting him off before he could continue speaking. “So Now, you’ll apologize for it, With your body.” He nodded at your words. “Of course. Whatever you want.” You chuckled tapping his thigh. “Take these off.” Pedro acted quickly standing up and unbuckling his jeans pulling them down fully and tossing them to the side, leaving him in just his boxers.
You looked at him before looking around his room humming. “Where are your neckties?” “In my closet.” “Okay, go get one.” He nodded walking off to his closest soon coming back with one of his red neck ties standing in front of you as he handed it over. You took it and stood up walking behind him his breath hitching as you rubbed down his arms collecting them both behind his back. “Y-you know how to make handcuffs with that?” He uttered. “Yes.” He tilted his head. “That’s very impressive. I barely know how to tie it the normal way.” He giggled. You smiled starting to bind the necktie to his wrist finishing up and turning him to face you. “I’ll show you how to do it one day.” You spoke pushing him to sit on the bed.
He gulped feeling himself getting hard as you crouched in front of him. You dug your nail’s into his thigh dragging them up to his stomach pulling the front of his shirt above his head and resting it behind his neck so his chest and nipples were exposed. You grinned grazing your finger over his nipple. “You want me to touch your dick right Pedro?” You voiced softly. He groaned nodding. “Y-yes.” “Then beg for it.” He swallowed at your words looking down at your hand and then back to your eyes. “P-please touch my worthless dick.” He moaned quietly his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. You hummed standing up and grabbing his jaw lightly. “I couldn’t hear you, say it louder.” Pedro swallowed looking up at you. “Please y/n touch my worthless dick… I need it.” You smiled tapping his cheek.
“You can do better than that Pedro.” He whined squeezing his thighs together. “Y/n.. come on, please! I need you.” You chuckled dragging your hand off his face. “Stand up.” He listened quickly standing as you brought your hands to his hips gripping his boxers and pulling them down swiftly pushing him to sit back down, his dick throbbing between his thighs. You crouched back down in front of scratching along his thighs watching as his hips twitched up for friction. “You ready Pedro?” You whispered kissing his knee. He nodded. “Yes! Please!” You giggled dragging your hand from his thigh to his dick lightly scratching your nails on his dick. He jerked shaking his head precum leaking out of him with a groan. “You're leaking a lot already, guess I’ll start.” You smiled finally giving him relief wrapping your hand around his shaft and pumping him slowly.
He moaned out looking down and watching your hand, his thigh fidgeting together. You looked up at him starting to move your hand faster leaning in to kiss his inner thigh. Pedro pushed up into your grip letting out a deep breath just as you felt his dick twitch. You smiled and kept a steady pace jerking him. “Are you close already?” You rolled your eyes. He nodded quickly. “I know! I’m sorry.” He grunted out. You pouted. “it’s okay. You can cum.” He nodded closing his eyes as you drew his orgasm closer and just before he came you pulled away leaving him just on the brink of wanting to cum but needing more pleasure.
He opened his eyes wide looking at you. “Y/n! Why’d you stop?” He gasped out wiggling his hips. “Come on!” You beamed rubbing his thigh “Calm down, Pedro.” You whispered. He frowned his eyebrows squeezing his thighs together as you slowly wrapped your hand back around him moving up and down at a steady pace. He groaned letting his head fall back. “Please don’t stop this time baby.” He moaned squeezing his eyes shut. “Of course.” You smirked bringing him to the edge once more before pulling away with a giggle.
He cried out and you leaned up quickly covering his mouth before pulling away. “Shh, remember she’s sleeping.” You whispered. He whined opening his eyes as you noticed how glossy they begin to look. You stood up looking down at him and tapping his cheek. “You look like your gonna cry.” You laughed bringing your hand from his cheek to his nipple and pinching it. “I-can’t y/n… Please let me cum!” “You can do anything I want you to do, Pedro.” You whispered leaning into his face and flicking his nipple, with that flick the tears that swelled in his eyes finally fell. You pouted bringing your hand back to his face and whipping his tears. “Don’t cry, Pedro.” You spoke. “it's not that bad. I only did it twice.” He huffed at your words looking away embarrassed.
“I’ll let you cum this time.” You smirked getting on your knees again. “I promise.” He frowned but nodded. “Please.” You chuckled wrapping your hand around him and starting to pump him again. You kept going leaning in to kiss his thighs as he let out a groan throwing his head back. “T-thank you y/n!” You nodded switching to licking his thigh instead licking close to his cock before moving away making him whine loudly. “I’m close! Please don’t stop please!” He yelped loudly tears forming in his eyes again his body aching to release. You smiled looking down at his twitching dick giving him a couple more strokes before pulling away.
He almost screamed but you grabbed his dick again pumping him fast until his orgasm had no choice spilling out of him. “Y/n! Oh god!” He moaned loudly you reached up quickly covering his mouth feeling his tears wet your hand, your other hand continuing to milk him. He knitted his eyebrows together as his body jolted bucking his hips up into your hand until his body was emptied of all his cum.
You pulled your hand off his dick and then his mouth and stood up listening to his heavy pants. “Too loud Pedro.” You giggled bringing your hand to his lips and he automatically knew what to do, opening his mouth and taking your fingers in to lick up his cum. “Good boy.” You smile whipping his tears with your free hand. “I like this form of apology from you.” He chuckled pulling his head back from your cleaned fingers. “Then I'll make it so I have to apologize more.” You smiled brighter helping him stand and undoing his restraints. “So, do you think maybe you can stay a little longer?” He spoke softly rubbing his wrist. You tilted your head. Why?” “I don't know, Maybe we could watch tv or something, only if your want to honey”. He uttered looking down and grabbing his boxers and pulling them up. You smiled at him being so shy. “Sure, but you should go check if (friend's name) is still sleeping. He beamed and nodded pulling his shirt over his head. “Right I’ll be back, make yourself comfortable.”
#dom!reader#sub!pedropascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#daddy Pedro#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader smut
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Hello! I'm a new content creator on this platform and would like to address some things first, I do apologies if my grammar is incorrect, it's not my first language 💙
☆I do art and accept commissions!☆
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•Things that I am able to draw•
-NSFW (not too explicit) / SFW art
-Chibi's / People / cute animals
-Random and weird ones (but not too complex)
-Meme art
-Sad / Serious art
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•Things that I cannot draw•
-People with complex poses
-Realistic people and animals
-Nakey people
☆I do fan fiction and accept requests!☆
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•Stuff that I am able to write•
-NSFW / SFW
-fluff
-Angst (not that good tho)
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•Stuff that I'm not willing to write•
(TW: The things I'm abt to mention might be sensitive to some people)
-R#pe
-Kidnapping
-Things that include Reader being hurt (Depends on how much damage)
-A really large age gap between the Reader
♡People that I can write abt♡
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-Pedro pascal | and his roles
-Gustavo Fring | Breaking bad
-Henry Emily | From Fnaf
-William Afton | From Fnaf
-Ghost | From Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2
-Anyone from Arcana | The dating game
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(Might add more but this is all for now)
#Pedro pascal#William Afton#Henry emily#Fnaf#the arcane game#smut#Pedro pascal smut#william afton smut#Henry Emily smut#the arcana smut#new writers on tumblr#new artist#soft content#Vanilla writing#william afton x reader#henry emily x reader#Pedro pascal x reader#The arcana x reader#reader smut#Pedro pascal x reader smut#william afton x reader smut#Henry emily x reader smut#The arcana x reader smut#breaking bad#gustavo fring#gus x reader#gus x reader smut
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cardigan (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)
A/N: In honor of midnights releasing, here’s a cardigan-inspired fic lol. I absolutely love this song. Anyway, I finished this last night at 2am and proofread it this morning, so I’m so sorry if it sucks. Enjoy!!!
Summary: After you’re shot, Din decides he can’t risk losing you (Jedi!reader).
Warnings: ANGST, so much angst. But fluff, and smut so minors get out of here. 18+ (PIV, mentions of fingering). Mentions of alcohol/consuming alcohol, description of injuries, canon typical violence, friends/absolute idiots to lovers, major pining, probably some grammatical errors.
Word Count: 5,311 (sorry)
“I had it under control, Din. I knew what I was doing.”
That was a complete lie, and he knew it.
But he’s silent, temporarily compliant as you huff and let yourself fall back against the steel wall behind you. He takes a few steps towards you, his boots thumping against the ground. Suddenly his gloved hand is under your shirt, initially resting on your waist before ghosting down to your hips. He had never been this close to you before, not like this.
You shudder under his touch as his thumb circles around the tiniest graze of a blaster wound. You try your best to hide your pain as the tip of his fingers hit the edge of the wound, but a small gasp leaves your lips, your own body betraying you. “Then what’s this, hm?” Din questions incredulously. You can hear the irritation in his voice, the anger.
Your chest heaves up and down, inadvertently making contact with Din’s because of his close proximity. But he doesn’t move, not even a step.
“I’m fine, I mean it.” But you don’t. You’re lying again. You bite down on your lip, struggling to hide the pain, to hide the way Din is making you feel right now.
His hand abruptly drops from your hip and clings to his side, his palms balling into fists as he turns away from you. Shit, he’s angry. “Would you stop fucking lying for one second and just be honest with me?” His voice strains against the modulator. “Admit what you did was reckless,” He turns towards you again.
Now you’re beyond angry. “Fine!” You practically scream. Why didn’t he get it? Why didn’t he understand for just one second? “It was reckless, sure. But fuck me if I think a little scrape is worth getting to save you!” Your voice is coarse and grainy as you hold back sobs, partially because of Din, and partially because of the searing pain at your hip.
Din rushes in and closes the space between you and him again. He lifts your shirt up, revealing the so-called “scrape” at your hip. “This is not little,” He huffs, letting the shirt fall back down, gripping your wrist tightly instead. He practically yanks you across the hull, forcing you to sit down on a crate as he shuffles through a box. He finally pulls out a med kit and some bacta spray.
“No, not that shit,” You say, scooting back until your ass is on the edge of the crate. The searing burn of the bacta spray would be worse than the blaster wound itself.
“Yes, that shit,” He says, grabbing your thighs and holding you down. You try to squirm away, but honestly part of you doesn’t want to. It feels good to have him this close, to feel him touching you like this. His hands wrap under the undersides of your thighs, his fingers gripping tightly against the inside as he pulls you closer towards him.
He’s quick as he takes one arm away, reaching for the bacta, while the other holds you down near your pelvis.
He looks up at you, noticing the anxiety spread across your face, the fear set deep in your eyes. You hear rough, short, modulating breaths from under Din’s helmet. You watch as his chest plate moves up and down faster than normal. He’s scared too, you know he is.
“Breathe,” He whispers, raising the spray up closer to your wound. You nod, swallowing harshly before taking a deep breath. He lifts his arm off your pelvis. There’s no reason to hold you down anymore, you aren’t going anywhere. Instead, his gloved hand meets yours and he squeezes softly. “It’s gonna be okay.” His sudden gentleness shocks you to your core, it makes your heart thump out of your chest.
A spritz breaks the silence, the bacta burning against your wound. “F-fuck,” You stutter, seething in pain. You absent-mindedly squeeze Din’s hand, and Din squeezes back.
“It’s okay,” He reassures, leaving his hand in yours as he searches through the med kit once again before pulling out a wrap. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.” He gives one last squeeze before his hand finally leaves yours so he can properly wrap your wound.
You can feel every single little touch, every press of his fingers. You’re suddenly on high alert, acutely aware of every breath that his vocoder picks up, every sound that he makes. He ties up the wrap on the other side of your body, being careful not to pull too tightly. When he’s done his hand travels back over towards the wound, now covered up thanks to him.
“Thank you,” You mumble. Your composure has melted away to sheer nothingness. You’re impressed that you were able to get any words out at all.
I knew you
Hand under my sweatshirt
Baby, kiss it better
His thumb draws stars over where the wound is. “It’s gonna scar.” There’s something melancholic in his voice, a sense of dread. But all you can truly pay attention to is how he hasn’t pulled away from you yet, how his hands are still on you. You burn under his touch, a wildfire spreading across your skin.
“That’s o-okay,” You stutter, finally gathering the courage to grab his hand at your wound and hold it tightly.
He shakes his head, pulling away and standing up. “No, it’s not.” He’s suddenly cold, distant. You wanted him back, holding your hand, whispering in your ear. What had changed? Did you go too far?
“I’m gonna be fine,” You say, standing up slowly. “I can’t even feel it anymore.”
“That’s just because of the bacta spray,” Din says, his arms crossing his chest. You walk towards him, and when you get close enough, you reach up to his shoulder. You trace the beskar there, watching your reflection in the metal before looking back up at his impenetrable visor.
You shake your head. Your voice is sterner this time, more final. “But I’m going to be fine. Don’t-,”
He cuts you off. “Maybe you should leave.”
“W-what?” Your mouth goes dry. You can feel the tears already prickling at the corners of your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, and you try your best to swallow it down. You search his visor for an answer, an explanation, but there is none. “Din everything is fine. The shot barely even grazed me.”
He doubles down on what he already made apparent. “You can’t stay here anymore. You have to go.” His voice is emotionless, robotic, metallic.
So this was the end? Just like that? Because you had gotten hurt one time?
“N-no, come on. L-leave? Din p-please it doesn’t h-have to b-be like this.” You can barely get your words out. Your tears are streaming freely now, burning with coolness against your hot cheeks.
He shakes his head, his fingers twitching at his side, as if he wants to reach out towards you, to touch you. But he doesn’t, he holds back, resisting. “You can go back to Luke. I can get you there before nightfall. We’re already in hyperspace. I’m taking you to Ossus.” He says nothing else. The words echo in your ears, driving a knife to your stomach, bursting your heart, and turning it into dust until there’s nothing left.
You can’t go. How are you supposed to live without him? He’ll never know how you feel, how you want him to feel. You’ll live an eternity chasing shadows, expecting him to appear around some corner on Nevarro or Tatooine. You’ll never hear his laugh again, feel his touch again. This wasn’t fair.
You swallow harshly, trying your best to at least croak out a word in protest. You could tell him how you feel, tell him how much he means to you. “I-,”
But he cuts you off again. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Din, but none of this needs to-,”
He’s not letting you finish. “Yes it does!” He’s shouting now, callously, mercilessly. “I’ll never be able to live with myself if something happens to you,” He pauses, breathing heavily. “You need to go somewhere safer, somewhere without me, somewhere with someone who can protect you.” His voice is softer now, defeated.
“You don’t know what I need!” The words fall from your lips uncontrollably. “And who says I can’t protect myself?”
“You can’t when you’re trying to protect me.” There’s that finality in his voice yet again, that tone that says the conversation is over, that you lost. “But if you go back to Luke, you can finish your training. He can keep you safer than I could.”
“But that’s not what I want,” You protest, but you know it’s no use.
“No, but it’s what you need.”
It wasn’t what you needed at all. You needed him. You needed Din.
The trip to Luke’s planet flashes by in what feels like an instant. Din is silent the entire ride. It kills you, absolutely crushes you. How could he be doing this?
And how the hell are you supposed to stop him?
Before you know it, the Crest hunches out of hyperspace, and Ossus comes into view.
“We can still turn around.” Your voice is shaky, unsure, anxious.
“No,” Din mumbles. “You have no idea how hard it was to get here in the first place.”
You scoff. Unbelievable. He doesn’t even care that you’re leaving him. He’s concerned with the fact that it was hard to fly the ship here. “Well I’m sorry. Guess I’m just wasting your fuel on a trip I didn’t even wanna take.” You’re the callous one now, and you’d regret it if you weren’t so hurt.
“Th-that’s not what I…” He trails off, taking a beat to collect his thoughts. “I wanted to t-turn back…the entire time…fought myself not to.”
Fuck.
His words hang around in the air for a moment before finally settling upon your ears and stitching themselves into your brain. The ship enters the atmosphere of Ossus and your stomach lurches forward, half in part because of your descent, and half because of Din’s confession.
“You’re crazy if you think I want this, mesh’la,” He whispers, turning towards you. “I’ve already done this once and it almost destroyed me.” He was right. You remember when you had brought Grogu to Luke. Din wasn’t the same until the little guy came back to your little family. Now it was your turn to leave him. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”
The Crest whirs as it lands, a series of beeps and roars vibrating deep within the walls of the ship. Maybe it knew you were leaving. Maybe it was mourning your loss already, lamenting right along with you. Din stands up as the Crest settles into the ground, walking out of the cockpit and into the hull. He pulls a lever, and you hear the ramp lower, crashing against the ground.
You close your eyes, and keep your hands pressed into the arms of the co-pilot’s chair. You decided you’d fight leaving for as long as you possibly could. Din would cave in, and you’d turn around and go searching for another bounty, just your little clan of three.
He calls out your name. You flinch at his voice. This could be the last time he ever calls your name. The thought whirls around your head. You can hear his boots clanging against the cold, metal floors of the Crest, and suddenly he’s behind you. His gloved hand finds its way to your shoulder, squeezing once before relaxing.
“You’re meant for more than…” He trails off, and you turn your head to face him. “Than this.”
This. By this, he means him. He means bounty hunting, the Crest, whatever the hell this life is you’ve built with him. Maker, you built a kriffing life with him. And now it was all over.
“You’re wrong,” You whisper, doing your best to hold back your tears. “You don’t even know the half of it.” You stare deeply into his visor, wishing you could see the look on his face. But all you see is your reflection, your tear-stained cheeks, your bloodshot eyes. Heartbreak – this is what heartbreak looks like.
You can hear him sigh under his helmet. “You don’t belong with me.”
Yes I do. You want to scream it until your voice gives out, until your lungs are bleeding, until everyone in the galaxy has heard you.
But you don’t. You stand up. Din’s hand falls from your shoulder and grabs your wrist like he’s trying to give you a consolation prize. He turns so his visor is just inches away from your face. You’re so close that your breath fogs up the beskar. And then, he lets your hand go.
“Ret’urcye mhi, cyare.” His voice isn’t as confident or strong as usual. It’s weak, tremulous, shaky, unsure.
You normally don’t press about his use of mando’a, but this could be the last time you see him. “What does that mean, r-ret’urcye m-mhi?” Your pronunciation is horrifically messy, but you give it your best shot.
He takes a deep breath before answering. “Maybe we’ll meet again, someday.”
“Will we?” You ask, sniffling a bit, doing your best not to sob into his chest plate.
“I hope so,” He whispers, his voice so soft you can barely hear him. His hand moves from your wrist down to your hand, his thumb brushing delicately against your own.
You can hear your name being called by an unfortunately familiar voice in the distance, but you don’t move. You’d never move from this spot if you didn’t have to. You could stay here forever. You wished your feet could grow roots that stretched down far into the floors of the Crest, keeping you stuck here.
“You have to go, mesh’la.” There it is, that final crushing blow. He brings his forehead down to meet yours. His beskar is cold yet comforting. “I’m sorry.” You can tell he really is.
“Me too,” You croak, your voice in shambles. Din takes a step back, squeezes your hand one last time, and lets go.
He walks with you to the ramp. The sun glimmers against the shiny, greyish metal. The grass around the bottom shivers in the wind. At least Ossus was green and sunny. You take a step onto the ramp, expecting to hear Din’s boots clank after you, but he stands his ground.
He really was letting you go.
You turn your head to face him one last time. “I’ll miss you.” Your voice is quiet. You don’t want anyone else to hear your confession. You want it to be private, intimate, just between you and him, your Mandalorian. Except he wasn’t really yours anymore. He never was.
“With time you’ll forget.” His words take you back. How could you ever forget him?
You shake your head, almost out of protest. “Why, are you going to forget me?”
“Never.” His hands twitch at his sides, shaking as he clutches them into fists. His knuckles are turning white under his gloves. “Couldn’t.”
“Me either,” Your voice quivers in between short breaths. You break your gaze away from him and walk down the ramp. The second you hit the grass, you hear a switch get flicked, and the hydraulics churn.
You turn around as the ramp closes, watching Din’s body slowly disappear. You want to say something, but you can’t, unable to find the words, to form a sentence. Your mind is clouded with the understanding that you may never see him again. You swear you hear him say something through his vocoder, but you can’t make the words out. He nods. The ramp closes with a jolt.
That was it. He was gone.
You were all settled in with Luke. You had your own little hut – far more privacy than on the Crest, but it was privacy you didn’t want in the first place. The bed in the center of the hut is surprisingly soft, comfortable. But there’s nothing about this that’s enjoyable, salvageable. This isn’t home. It never would be.
And it was all your fault.
If you hadn’t put yourself in front of that blaster you’d be dancing in the hull with Grogu in your arms. Din would be rolling his eyes under his helmet. Or maybe you’d be somewhere cold, forced to huddle against Din for warmth. It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe you’d already be on another hunt, hiding in some alleyway with Din at your back, his hand around your waist, pushing you behind him even though you were well equipped to handle hunting by yourself. What matters now are all those ‘what ifs’ and ‘never wills.’
But I knew you
Playing hide-and-seek and
Giving me your weekends
You curl up into a ball on the bed, the dark wooden frame creaking with every movement you make. Tears free fall down your cheeks as you struggle to swallow breathy sobs. You can’t breathe. It’s impossible. None of this should be happening. You woke up next to Din this morning, and now you’re on Ossus.
At your core, you don’t regret what you did at all. Din would’ve been dead had you not taken that shot. You rather him be alive and on the other side of the galaxy than dead at the hands of some psychopathic smuggler-king pin. At least he was out there, somewhere.
You shut your eyes tightly, attempting to force yourself to sleep, but it’s no use. You aren’t sleeping now. You push yourself up, swinging your legs around to the other side of the bed. Your feet press into the cold, stone floor, sending shivers down your spine. You immediately find your socks and jump into your boots. You grab your sweater from the edge of the bed and head out the door.
The night sky is unbelievably clear. You stare up at the stars and quietly wish that wherever you’re looking is where Din is right now.
You crouch down into the wet, green grass. The stems stab you a bit as you sit down, crossing your legs, readying yourself to meditate. You shut your eyes and the wind whips through you, the cold air clinging tightly to your body. Maybe the Force could give you answers. You take another deep breath, feeling your connection to the planet, to the ground, the dirt, only to be absolutely derailed by thoughts of Din.
You keep your eyes shut, trying your best to work through the distraction, but the memory of him doesn’t go away.
You’re in the hull of the ship, some alcoholic drink in hand, sitting closely next to him. Every now and then he’d look away from you, lift his helmet, and take a sip out of his cup. You had gotten him to talk about Mandalorian traditions. He had mentioned something about married Mandalorians kissing with their helmets on.
“It’s called a Keldabe kiss,” He had said, your head resting on his shoulder. His armor was off. It was the first time he had ever taken it off in front of you. Of course, the helmet stayed on.
You couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “Isn’t that a head butt?” You ask, laughter still heavy in your voice. Your head doesn’t move from its place, and you notice that Din’s head is now resting upon yours. You don’t know when his arm snaked around your waist, keeping you clung to his side, but he was warm and surprisingly cushiony.
A modulated laugh bursts out from the beskar clad man next to you. “Well yeah,” He chuckles, “But it’s really when two Mandalorians press the foreheads of their helmets together. It symbolizes a kiss.” His voice is so gentle, it’s almost subdued. He’s certainly more sober than you are. Din almost never drinks as much as you.
You hum softly in approval, your eyelids growing heavy. “Sounds nice,” You mumble. “S’romantic.” Your words slur messily. “I’d want a Mandalorian to do that to me.”
And that’s when it hits you.
Your eyes force themselves open, and it isn’t until you feel yourself falling that you realize you had been floating in your meditative state. “Shit!” You scream out loud, crashing to the ground with a thump.
You angrily dig your hands into the dirt, clawing at the grass, yanking the blades out the ground. How could you be so stupid? How could you have missed that one crucial detail? He had kissed you before he left. He pressed his forehead to yours, held you there, kept you close. He wanted you to feel it, to feel him.
You let yourself fully collapse against the ground, your head falling into your hands. You heave, sobbing intensely, your tears rushing down your cheeks, trickling onto your arms and down into the grass. You could’ve had him.
He wanted you too.
“I’m sorry,” You whisper, as if he could hear you. It’s almost like you can still feel him. He’s yet another ghost of your past that’ll haunt you until the day you die. He’s another shadow, another thing you can’t get away from.
A crack from behind you tears you away from your thoughts. You quickly push yourself up and turn around. You shiver, the cold wind nipping at your skin. You squint your eyes, trying to look into the forest just a way beyond the huts. That’s when you see it: a dark figure looming in the distance, coming out of the woods.
But you’re not worried at all. A wave of relief washes over your body. You could feel him from a million miles away. You know that walk, those arms, those shoulders, the way his armor catches the moonlight.
Din.
Chasin' shadows in the grocery line
I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired
And you'd be standin' in my front porch light
And I knew you'd come back to me
You'd come back to me
You practically trip over your feet as you run over to him. “Din!” You call out into the darkness. You can see him picking up his pace, meeting you in the middle. You’re not even an inch apart from one another now.
“You came back,” You whisper, staring into the T of his visor.
“I’m so sorry, mesh’la,” He mutters, grabbing your hands in his. “I couldn’t leave you. I c-couldn’t do it.”
You swallow your tears, letting go of one of his hands to reach up to where the fabric of his flight suit and his helmet meet. You let your fingers gently brush against the small section of exposed skin. You pull him down towards you ever-so-slightly so that you can meet him halfway, your forehead pressing into his.
“I should’ve remembered what this was…” You trail off, recalling when he had done it earlier that day. “What it means. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
You can hear his breath catch in his throat. “Come back with me,” He’s practically begging. “I don’t wanna live without you…” He’s struggling to get his words out, as if you’d ever be able to say no. “C-can’t live without you.” His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
“You didn’t even have to ask,” You whisper shakily. Din pulls away from you, releasing you from his hold around your waist. He keeps your hand in his, guiding you into the forest and towards the Crest.
You hadn’t brought anything with you to Ossus – something about Jedis leaving possessions behind in order to start their new journey. You’d send a commlink to Luke in the morning explaining everything. He’d understand. He knew this wasn’t what you wanted.
After a short walk, the Crest appears in front of you. The forest is quiet, save a few frogs and bugs croaking and chirping in the darkness. Din pulls you closer to him again.
“I’ve got something to give you,” He mumbles, keeping your chest held against his.
“What’s that?” You ask, heat rising to your cheeks at the sound of his voice. Much to your dismay, he lets you go, but you don’t move. It feels good being so close to him.
But then his hands are on either side of his helmet, and there’s a click, and a hissing noise. Suddenly he’s pulling the helmet up. You can see the ends of brown curls, a chin. Before you can see anything else, you’re shoving your face into your hands, shielding yourself from Din. It was routine at this point.
“No, look,” He pleads, grabbing at your hands, pulling them away from your eyes.
Your eyes flutter open, and he’s in front of you, helmetless and beautiful. His brown eyes, curly brown hair, fuck he was beautiful. You take his face into your hands, rubbing his cheeks, exploring every curve, your fingers dancing along his cheekbones.
Your chest heaves as he lowers his lips towards yours. “Wanted this for so long.” His voice is clear, unmodulated. It melts against your ears, and you replay his words over and over again in your head, committing each and every sound to memory.
And then his lips are on yours, languid and smooth. He doesn’t rush, though you’re sure you both want to. You want him everywhere all at once. You want to be inside him, for him to be inside you. You needed him, needed more. He presses his body against yours, pushing back towards the side of the Crest. The ramp was already lowered, ready for you to go inside.
“F-fuck,” Din mumbles against your lips. The deepness of his voice makes your core tighten, and you close your thighs, rubbing them together, searching for some sort of friction. Din notices and pushes his knee in between you, spreading your legs again for him. “Wanna feel you, mesh’la.” He was going to be the death of you.
“Please,” You beg. “Please Din, do something…” You trail off, dragging yourself against his thigh, moaning loudly at the relief you feel getting yourself off against him.
He presses his lips into the crook of your neck, trailing gentle, wet kisses against your skin. “Want me to take you out here, against the ship?” He asks, his fingers ghosting down towards the waistband of your pants. He tugs on them teasingly. “Can’t wait until we get inside, hm?” His mouth is right up against your ear, and it feels like the entire planet is whirling by.
“Need you now,” You whine. You can’t help but roll your hips against him. Din grunts in response, tearing away your pants, letting them fall to your ankles along with your panties. His fingers suddenly meet your folds, eliciting a loud moan and a series of expletives from your lips. He teases you, his fingers toying with your clit.
“Fuck Din, please.” It’s already too much. You need him inside you.
“So needy, aren’t you?” He whispers, sinking a finger deep inside of you as his thumb rubs away at where you need him most. “So beautiful, so perfect.” He sounds so good, looks so good.
He takes his hands away from you, and you practically cry out at the loss of his touch. He undoes his belt buckle and throws his pants to the side in a blur that you aren’t coherent enough to recognize. You were too wrapped up in him. The way he pumps his length a few times before lining up with your entrance, the way his hair frames his face, the way his eyes catch the light of the moon. This was all uncharted territory for you to explore.
And you’d be damned if you weren’t going to explore it.
Din picks you up, your back resting against the wall of the Crest. You can feel the head of his cock pressing against your folds, lined up perfectly. He sheaths himself into you, splitting you open, bottoming out. You feel so full, so fucking good.
“S-shit,” You cry out in pure ecstasy, tears blurring your vision.
He huffs, groaning against your mouth, his tongue swiping against your lower lip, tasting you, trying to find more of you to touch. You could do this forever. “Knew you’d feel so good,” He says, swallowing one of your moans with another kiss.
It’s not until you feel his thumb circling your clit that you realize he’s holding you up with just one arm, his hand squeezing your ass as he pumps in and out of you. His rhythm is merciless, hitting the very spot you need him in every time.
“S-so tight,” He coos, his cock buried deep inside you. “So wet, so perfect for me.” Your noses touch as you press yourselves closer together. “Doing so good, pretty girl, taking me so well.” Every word, every thrust pushes you closer to the edge. You’re ready to break, ready to snap right in front of him.
Din presses harder against your clit as he pumps himself into you, hit after hit. He’s hungry for every inch of you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the exact same. You’re almost there, almost at your peak.
“D-Din,” You whimper, barely able to get a word out. “S-so close, feels so good.”
Din breath tickles your nose as he parts his lips. “I know sweet girl, I’ve got you.” You can feel him getting close too, chasing his own climax as he pounds into you. His pace becomes more desperate, crashing into you with more force with each rut of his hips.
Your walls clench around Din’s cock as his forehead falls against yours. “F-fuck that feels good,” He groans. “So beautiful, letting me take you like this. Wanna feel you come around me.”
That’s all it takes. You can feel yourself snap, the tension breaking in two. Your walls flutter around his length as you come undone, completely falling apart. You whisper his name like a prayer, like it’s the only word you know. Din is right behind you, his hips stuttering, coming inside you.
He circles your clit a few more times before he brings his hand behind your back, pressing your chest even closer to his. You’re flush against him now, his cock still buried deep inside you.
“I love you, Din. I always have,” You mumble against him.
“I love you.” His voice is soft, but certain. “Loved you for so long, cyare. Too long. Should’ve said something sooner…” He trails off, his brown eyes staring deeply into yours.
You shake your head. “No, this was perfect. I wouldn’t change it for the galaxy.”
You stay like this for a few minutes, his cock still hard inside of you. You spend the time catching your breath, stealing kisses, until he finally slips out of you, placing you carefully back onto the ground.
You and Din shuffle into pants before slipping back onto the Crest. And then, as if nothing had happened, you were back in the cockpit with him.
Except now you were his. And he was yours.
“Thank you,” You whisper, your gaze meeting his from the co-pilot’s chair.
“For what?” Din asks, a huge smile spread across his face. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to that smile. How did he get away with hiding it for so long?
Your breath hitches in your throat. He still makes you nervous. “For coming back for me,” You answer, a slight shake present in your voice.
Din smiles softly now, his hand reaching out to hold yours, just like he did earlier today. “Shouldn’t have ever let you go. I never will again.”
And he never did.
And when I felt like I was an old cardigan
Under someone's bed
You put me on and said I was your favorite
Tags: @gram-cracker24 @angstyvirgin001
#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin smut#din djarin x reader smut#Pedro pascal x reader#Pedro pascal x reader smut#Pedro pascal smut#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian x reader smut#mando x reader#mando x reader smut#mando#mando fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin x jedi!reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x you smut#din djarin fluff#Pedro pascal imagine#din djarin imagine#mando x you#din djarin x reader fluff#din djarin angst#din djarin x female reader#the mandalorian fluff#Pedro pascal x you#din djarin x reader angst
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CAN SOMEONE PLEEEEASE HELP ME i read this one pedro pascal fanfic forever ago and it was like an aged up Dio where the reader was his parole officer✨please LMK KNOW IF YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS ITS A SMUT FIC OFFCC
#pedro pascal#dio morrissey x reader smut#dio morrissey#pedro pascal x reader smut#pedro x reader#pedrohub#pedro pascal smut#javier pena x you#agent whiskey x reader
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