#serenaxpedro writes
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a lot can change in twenty seconds, a lot can happen in the dark
paring: Joel Miller x Reader
rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)
word count: 5k~
summary: You never believed in being lucky, no one who’d lived in this royally fucked world for more than a day could, but getting stuck in a cabin on patrol with a man you’ve been eyeing for the last three months might be all that it’s take for you to change your mind.
a/n: Special thanks to an amazing person @gab-thelamb-onthemoon for proofreading and adding her special spark to the plot <3
WARNINGS: explicit sexual content; alcohol consumption; oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected PinV (wrap it ffs); cum eating; dirty talk; pussy and face slapping (but like barely); NO USE OF Y/N
MY MASTERLIST
"No."
His big palms were heavy on your upper thighs as he tried to move you from his lap, getting a tiny, exasperated sigh in return.
"Why not?" You knew this had nothing to do with his desire towards you, feeling him swell against your ass cheek as soon as you'd thrown one of your legs over his and planted yourself squarely on his groin.
"You're too young and too pretty for my good." Joel smiled at you, the one that said, 'If only you were ten years older and me ten years younger and the world didn't rip our souls and bodies to shreds…'. "There is no way this won't end up fucked."
"Why do you think about the future so much?" You curl your legs under you, not minding the dirt on the soles of your kicks. You'd always wanted to ask him that; the first impression you had of the man was that he rarely talked in the present tense. Always 'tomorrow on patrol, we…' and ‘tonight after dawn, I…' and the constant 'when Ellie's older…'. Like the man was scared of today, of now. The present caught him unguarded like a deer in headlights. He doesn't do good without having a plan - that you've figured out for sure.
"What else do I have to think about? My past wasn't Fourth of July fireworks, and my present is filled with infected and assholes."
You lightly nudge his knee with your foot, "Present company excluded."
"Present company excluded," he repeats after you and chuckles.
"But honestly, why do you care? For all we know, anything could happen tomorrow. I could get killed by assholes; you could get infected..."
"You won't die." He said it too fast and too harshly as if he'd thought about it too many times, and his answer was ready even before you finished your sentence. Joel gave himself a second to breathe before continuing.
"And I... I'd love to do one good thing before I kick the bucket."
"And fucking me is… not good?"
He shook his head, his face both amused and exhausted, like after talking to a toddler about why the sky is blue for five hours straight just to hear them ask, 'So why's it blue?'
"Fucking you…" His laughter was raspy, and you felt your cheeks tugging as you smiled at him.
"Fucking you is good for this," Joel palmed his groin, his cock already mostly hard. You felt your breath catch in your throat, a smile mixed with a needy expression. You couldn't take your eyes off his thick fingers lying where you wanted your mouth to be. "But it's not good for this," he placed the same hand on his chest, where his heart was screaming to fuck it all and give into this in unsteady rapid beats.
"Or this," Joel tapped his finger on his temple, the only thing keeping him rational was his habit of staying mostly cool in stressful situations.
"Okay," you relented, knowing that the man was more stubborn than a mule. "We have an unknown amount of time to kill…what should we do?"
"Darlin', I don't know about you, but I'm freezing here."
"I gave you an idea of how we could warm up; you were the one who turned me down."
"I saw some wood near the fireplace," he sighed, ignoring your words, "that should keep us warm for the night. You go search for food - this place hasn't been visited for a while, but they must have at least some canned shit here."
"Yes, Sir."
"Don't."
"Hit something?" He looked at you from under his furrowed brows, his gaze heavy and not amused. You hummed and gave him a half-smile, "I'll remember that."
You hoped Joel was right.
Though the place was mostly forgotten due to its unfortunate location, more often than not raided by bandits and strays, it could still have some stuff in the stash.
You found an old cabinet in the kitchen marked with Jackson's symbol, the one patrollers put there to mark where the food and some supplies were. The door’s rusty hinges made it impossible to open, and you realized that the only option to get the supplies would be to break the rotting structure.
Looking around for something heavy, you fully took in the space around you for the first time. The cabin was small, and it smelled like humidity and something rotten - an unpleasant smell after getting used to Jackson's fresh sheets and clean air. Everything around you was made of wood: three stools, two of them missing one leg each; a sturdy table with orange spots around the fat nailheads. The floor, darker in color but still made of wood creaked, but the sound didn't annoy you. If the storm didn't drown you in darkness, you'd see that the cabinets around you were painted a light shade of lavender, with the light coming through the little spaces where wooden planks weren't nailed over the dirty glass.
Sighing, you admitted to yourself that there was nothing around you that would help open the damn cabinet. The only thing you could think of was to grab your gun and try to hit the lock, praying that it was rotten enough to give up without a fight.
You left the room and went back to the sofa where you’d dropped your bag. The fire was slowly starting - Joel was scrunched over the fireplace, and you let yourself linger a little to study his concentrated face. By now, seeing him frown didn't make you wonder if you'd messed up somehow. It wasn't his reaction to you or anyone else; it was just his face. His reaction to the world twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. One day you even made yourself laugh, thinking how he must stay awake just so he can continue to frown; otherwise, the world wouldn't know how tired and annoyed Joel was with everything.
His movements were learned but stiff, one hand on his massive, jean-clad thigh and the other poking the burning wood with a stick to make the fire spread further. His broad shoulders were hunched and tensed. For a moment there, you wanted to step closer and place your hands on the stiff muscles - let your fingers dig into the sore, tired muscles, and force him to relax under your touch.
You'd trace your hands lower and slide them under his limp arms, circling the firm plates of his chest and lower, where his stomach was soft from time but strong from all the unavoidable exercise their current lifestyle provided. His breath would catch when your palms pressed lower still, where he was hot and promising, firm but gentle.
You wondered if he'd let you, and you figured he wouldn’t.
Lost in your thoughts, you noticed the heat from your lower belly slowly spreading to your chest. You shook your head before it bloomed in red flowers on your neck and cheeks, chasing the dreams of pleasure away.
You found the bag you'd left near the shaggy sofa and retrieved the gun. The cold metal of it was heavy in your hand. Joel didn't pay you any attention and you decided to keep it that way, returning to the kitchen and turning your plan into action.
When the loud 'bang' deafened you, you couldn't say what happened. One moment you were gripping your gun, and the next you were staring at the little cloud of smoke and dust coming from the little bullet hole in the floor. The first thing you noticed was that you managed to open the locked stash cabinet. The second was Joel, running and dropping to his knees in front of you, his face pale with soot marks on his left cheekbone.
"What the fuck is going on? You okay?" His big palm nearly enveloped half of your face as he turned your head to the side. To you, it was a reminder that he saw you as a kid that needed to be protected, even though you were sent here as equals. At least you hoped so. A part of you was annoyed at him but the other was basking in his protectiveness over you, letting you hope that you were more than just another partner to him.
"Sorry," you murmured, not knowing why your voice dropped to a whisper as your eyes followed his every movement while he checked you for visible injuries. You hurried to explain the noises. "I don't know how that happened. I must've turned off the safety or something."
Joel looked at you, the confusion in his eyes disappearing as he noticed the gun you’d dropped near you.
"Good Lord, are you an idiot?" The man jumped up, moving away from you like he'd been burned and dropping his limp hands briefly before immediately throwing one up in frustration.
"You could've shot yourself! How the fuck are you even allowed to have a gun?" His voice was angry, and you hated yourself for getting into such a dumb situation.
Why didn’t you check the fucking safety? You were good with a gun; if not good, then at least not dangerous for yourself. Joel's rant never stopped. "You can't be trusted with a fucking stick ‘cause you'll find a way to kill yourself with it."
"Oh come on, Joel, like you never fired a gun by accident." He was not one of those people who could let stuff go easily; he just stared at you, his silence heavier than his words, until he grimly noted,
"My gun fires only when I pull the trigger, and I don't do shit like that by accident."
Joel left you sitting next to the now-opened cabinet, and you prayed to all the existing deities that this would be worth having him stare down at you with the coldest look you’d seen to date. You crouched over the cabinet and started rummaging through it, taking out a few cans of Beefaroni, and three packs of jerky which you weren't sure were safe for consumption. Sliding your hand further back, you felt something tall and cold and tugged it out. When your eyes read the label and you made sure that the thing was unopened, you let out a whistle followed by a happy exclamation.
"Fuck me!" You jumped to your feet, striding to the living room where Joel threw himself on the sofa and watched the fire barely blinking. You dropped your body next to his, closer than intended but not moving away, and practically shoved the treasure in his face. "Look at what I found! Say how awesome this is, and stop being a grumpy old man."
Your grip was hard around the bottle, but you let it go when he put his hand around it, trying to examine it. His fingers barely brushed yours, and you felt like the biggest cliche when fire singed your skin under his touch.
Joel turned the bottle this way and that, sighing heavily. There was no hostility in his tone though - he just seemed tired.
"I am a grumpy old man. But this is a decent bottle. I'm surprised it was there."
"Probably the patrollers didn't expect their shift to be the last one here."
"Probably."
The room went silent for a couple of moments, the fire crackling and hissing when it reached a not-completely-dry stick. You didn't feel awkward or shy in any way; you were just wary of how exactly to approach this situation and not scare Joel away. It was like hunting a rabbit: slow your steps and look under your feet so you don't make any loud noises.
"So, should we open it now or...?" You leaned into him a little, nudging his shoulder with yours. Joel turned his head and looked you up and down before shaking his head and returning his gaze to the bottle.
"I don't think it's a good idea. We should stay alert in case…–"
You didn't let him finish. You were quite sure that you knew what he wanted to say and which arguments to use against it. "In case what? Infected start looking for a place to wait this storm out? Don't be ridiculous."
His eyes were still glued to the bottle, the auburn liquid splashing a little with small movements of his hands and the glass blinking invitingly in the firelight. Joel's tone was smooth like butter but sharp like a knife.
"It’s not the infected I'm worried about, and you know that… "
"Raiders, I know… but look outside." As if to prove your words, the thunder banged with doubled force and you thought you felt the cabin shake. It was drizzling when you left Jackson, but you decided to find shelter in an abandoned patrol house when the rain became downright violent. Combined with the wind that you felt deeper than your bones and occasional lightning, it was simply unsafe to travel to your original destination. "It's not only unpleasant to be out; it's dangerous. And it's impossible to find this place. Even knowing the location, we were barely able to do so."
"I don't���"
"Come on, Joel. Live a little." You knew you were walking on thin ice, but still allowed yourself to place a soft hand on his biceps, the muscles tensing under your fingers when you reassuringly squeezed a flannel-clad limb. "Don't you think you finally deserve that?"
Joel was frowning, like you’d almost heard his thoughts. His hard-working brain cells tried to find more valid reasons to say no, but he was tired and he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in longer than he cared to remember. He never made a big deal out of it but since meeting Ellie and settling in Jackson with the teenager at his side, Joel didn't indulge in alcohol. Sometimes, when insomnia would keep him awake for painfully long hours, he'd remember his days in the QZ. Aside from obvious downsides, he was at least able to get five to six hours of unbothered sleep after downing a bottle of the cheapest alcohol he could find. In the end, the decision left his mouth before he was able to give it a second thought.
"Did you also, by any chance, find two glasses there?"
"What are you, at the queen's reception?" You leaned further into him, showing off your happy grin, and snatched the bottle from his hands. Unscrewing the aluminum lid, you took a long swig of the burning liquor straight from the bottle before shutting your eyes tight and blindly passing the bottle back to Joel.
You didn't know how much time had passed as you continued sharing the bottle between the two of you in comfortable silence. It didn't feel heavy on you and as you looked at the man beside you, you noticed he was more relaxed as well. You didn't notice the burn of the drink anymore, the warm liquid traveling down your throat and finding its home in the pit of your belly where the desire for Joel became harder to ignore.
You felt your limbs relax, arms like a magnet pulled to the man next to you and before you thought about it, you found yourself in the same position you were in no more than four hours ago.
This time was different, though.
Joel's hands didn't hurry to push you away, instead acting as a comforting weight on your thighs. You locked eyes with him, seeing if he’d let himself forget what he’d told you before. His deep and tired browns were half-closed, his gaze lazily tracing the features of your face in a ghost of a caress. You felt his eyes kissing your temple, then your cheekbone and the tip of your nose. By the time he reached your lips, you’d already pressed them to his, not able to resist the nearly primal call inside you.
His lips were chapped, but warm and firm under yours and you swore that you could spend hours locked in the embrace that his mouth offered. You felt emboldened by the fact that he didn't push you away and let your tongue trace the seam of his plush lower lip before nipping on it, asking for the entrance. He tasted like whiskey and skin, nothing else. Nothing fancy or romantic, nothing hidden - it was all him on the skin of your lips and it made you feel heady. His hands tightened on your thighs, going up and down and squeezing harder than what would’ve been considered gentle. Just when you thought you’d established some dominance over him, Joel let you see a glimpse of his true nature as he opened his mouth and bit into the soft skin of your lips with his teeth. The hunger you felt radiating from him was for more than a kiss, more than a touch, but your mind drifted out of its stream of consciousness from the way it felt when your tongues mingled in their unique dance.
You felt the need to gasp for air, and that was the first moment in your life you despised being human. Basic needs like air tore you away from the only craving you had and it almost made you mad. Before you could dive into that sea of reciprocated want and desire once again, you felt Joel stopping you. He placed a firm hand on your chest, a movement that you'd consider sexy with his fingers so close to your nipples, tightened from arousal. If only he’d made a move of squeezing, instead of pushing you away. Again.
"What?" confused you stared at his face looking for the sign of distress or disgust. You found nothing of this sort. His eyes were half-closed, breathing heavy, and his lips glistened with your saliva. You put your hands on his cheeks, reveling in the feeling of his patchy graying beard prickling your palms.
"We can't." Joel’s eyes were contradicting the words falling from his lips.
"Why not? I feel like we're compatible," you moaned, grinding harder on his dick. You felt a pang of pleasure pinching your pussy that had been sopping through your underwear far longer than it was comfortable.
"Fuck," his groan was vibrating through your skin, touching you deep in your bones. "What if…"
It was almost Pavlovian of you to not let him finish. "But what if whatever you think about doesn't happen? Can you stop overthinking so much and try to be right here with me? In now?"
"It's hard to teach this old dog new tricks."
"Let's see if I'm a good trainer then, shall we?" You traced his cheekbones simultaneously with your thumbs, softly dragging them to his ears and scratching behind them, drawing two barely visible red lines on his neck until your hands were placed on his shoulders.
You gave them a light squeeze and judging by the look on Joel's face, you could tell that the man would kill for a long and languid massage. It wasn't your plan though, and you leaned in closer to make sure that the pressure you put on his straining cock wasn't painful.
"Let me show you a few commands."
You scooted what felt impossibly close to him, as if trying to blend your bodies into one, your stomach kissing his through the thin layers of fabric between the two of you.
"Command number one - ‘touch’." You took his hands - his palms way bigger than yours - and put them on your waist. You felt him unconsciously tighten his hold and you encouraged him with a soft moan followed by a kiss to his neck. You hoped that as soon as you left his hands he wouldn't let go of you, and Joel didn't let you down. His moves were steady, the last bits of doubt dissolving in his eyes. He slid his hands higher to palm your tits and you threw your hand back when his fingers tweaked your nipples through your simple tank top, the material not hiding your obvious arousal and showing off the contours of your tight buds. Joel looked hypnotized by your tits and as soon as he felt the soft flesh, he was in an animalistic hurry to tear away your clothes. You let him pull your shirt over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up in the light of the fireplace.
"So fuckin' beautiful, darling." His voice was quiet enough for you to miss, but the compliment was oozing through his eyes. He followed every tiny movement of your full breasts as you inhaled and exhaled. Greedily, Joel seemed to even stop blinking.
"Command number two - ‘kiss’."
You barely whispered and Joel smiled at you. You could almost say it was cocky if only you knew how that looked on the man. You were ready to feel his lips pressed into yours again until he kicked the air out of you, enveloping your aching nipple in the confines of his lips, sucking and wetting it in the most delicious way. He squeezed your left boob in his hand and you felt him move his hips, hungrily grinding his cock into you. The pleasure of it all was overwhelming and you let out a tiny scream when he started teasing your nipples with soft bites, also leaving wet marks and nips on the sensitive skin between them.
When you couldn't handle it anymore, you tugged his head back by his hair. Joel's face was a bit disappointed and you shivered from the cold when his mouth wasn't on you.
"You okay?" Joel's voice was hoarse, but his eyes blinked with concern. You nodded furiously and to assure him that you still more than wanted him, you squeezed your hand between your bodies and put it on his covered cock.
"Command number three - ‘fuck me as if my life depends on it’."
It was like a flip had switched inside his brain. A shadow ghosted over his face before his hands started practically ripping clothes off of both of you. His shirt, your boots, and two pairs of jeans, until he was facing your naked body without an ounce of shame.
For a moment you felt like he seduced you, and not the other way around.
"You’ve got such a cute little cunt, baby. Can’t believe I deprived myself of it for so long." His voice was no more than a hoarse rasp scratching inside of your skull, and making your pussy clench and blush in excitement.
"Then what are you waiting for?" You loved playing with fire, and the fire in Joel's eyes for you was like a siren's song to a sailor.
"Darlin' I'm gonna give you so much you're gonna beg me to stop." His hand squeezed your throat a little. His face was almost remorseful, but the hard cock bobbing between his legs was a clear sign that he wouldn’t back down. "Just know that I won't, okay? I won't be able to. Not when that pretty wet pussy is dripping around my cock."
Your whine was pornographic, pathetic even, but you didn't have time to think about it. Joel's naked body pressed into yours, his leaking cock leaving wet marks on your lower belly as his mouth attacked your lips.
"You taste so good, baby," his breath was heavy, calloused fingers squeezing your neck. You thought you could see your dazed reflection in the blackened pools of his eyes, but you knew it was just your imagination. "Do you taste this good everywhere? Mind if I check?"
You weren't sure if it was you or him who whispered 'please' but when his wet and hot mouth enveloped your clit, you felt that you broke your spine arching it in pleasure. It sounded like a competition of who'd moan louder because Joel was practically growling in your pussy. His tongue swiped up and down your slit, sliding into your pulsing hole to taste as much of you as you were ready to give and coming back to tease your begging clit.
"Please, Joel, please." You cried, squeezing his salt and pepper hair between your fingers.
He let go of your pussy with a wet pop, shamelessly licking your juices off his lips and staring into your eyes. "What do you want, baby? Aren't you having fun?"
"Yes, but please, please I need you inside me, Joel."
"Okay, darlin', okay." He petted your swollen pussy with his thick fingers and you jolted when he grazed your sensitive clit. "But I want you to come for me first, okay? Can you do that, sweetheart? Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Sir." You whispered. You remembered how he acted when you called him that. At the end of the day, turnabout is a fair play.
"Good girl," he murmured and slapped your clit directly, "but don't get bratty on me or I will punish you, baby."
He didn't let you say another word, ripping moans out of you as he plunged two of his fingers inside you and attacked your clit with renowned vigor. He was relentless with his caresses, his digits sliding in and out of you at ease and surely making a mess on the couch underneath you. He changed the angle a bit and you could swear you were electrocuted when his fingers started rhythmically punching that sweet spot inside of you that you could never quite reach.
Joel felt your body tense under his fingers and tongue, slipping one of his hands up and blindly finding your nipple. He pinched it hard as his teeth grazed your clit, sending you over the edge.
You thought you were coming for hours. All of this time Joel continued swiping his flattened tongue up and down your pussy, making you twitch and whine with every touch.
"What a beautiful sight you are, darlin’. So tight, so," he inhaled soundly through his nose, "sweet."
Your arms were barely listening to you when you tried to raise them and bring him to your eye level. "Please, Joel. You promised."
"I did, didn't I?" He laughed a little, climbing on top of you and bracketing your body with his arms. He studied your face for a moment before dropping a small kiss on your lips and whispering into them, "Ask me like a good little girl."
"Please, fuck me, sir."
He bit your jaw and growled like an untamed animal that still bit its owners. "Okay, sweetheart."
You felt him spreading you further apart and nestling closer between your legs, lining his cock up to your needy hole which was ready to swallow all he would give you. With a smooth slide of his hips, his massive cock was tightly set between your pussy lips, stretching you to the limit. Your brows furrowed from the size of him and you watched him press a wet kiss on the creases of your forehead. "Okay?" He whispered, not moving.
"Yes, you... You can move."
"Relax, baby. You're so tight it makes it very hard to control myself." His voice was strained and you knew it took all his willpower not to destroy you in this moment.
"Then stop. Don't control yourself, please."
"You don't know what you're asking for."
"I…"
He frowned, the veins on his neck and forehead more visible than usual, and shook his head. "Not today."
You nodded, ready for whatever he was willing to give you, and he already gave you more than you hoped for. Joel swung his hips gently, bringing you back to the present, to his cock stretching and filling your pussy to the limit. To the heavy breathing and the beads of sweat that fell from his brow and onto your lower lip. To the hands that couldn't find one place to rest. Both of you greedily mapped out each other's skin scratching, breaking skin, and imprinting memories of this moment for days to come.
The overwhelming feeling of Joel all around you made your head dizzy and you closed your eyes, immediately feeling his hands lightly squeezing your cheeks.
"No, sweetheart, don't close your eyes." You looked at him lazily. "That's right, I wanna see your eyes when you come all over my cock like a good girl, okay?"
You only nodded, like a dumb doll bouncing on a truck dashboard. You felt your orgasm approaching in tingling waves, drowning you from your head and your toes like a tsunami in your belly.
"That's it, darlin', I feel you're so close, choking my cock like a sin. Fuck, come on, baby," his movements became harder and more rapid - he was close too. "Come for me, baby girl."
That phrase was all it took for your orgasm to possess your body like an evil spirit, breaking your back in an unnatural arch, and squeezing cries and moans out of you.
You were too out of your mind to pay attention to Joel pulling out of you and sending his load on top of your burning pussy, covering it in a hot, milky liquid. You twitched and whined when he brought his fingers to your abused cunt and mixed your releases before bringing his come-covered digits to your opened lips. You licked them hungrily, biting his fingertips when they were clean and getting a playful slap across your cheek before feeling Joel's lips envelop yours in search of your combined taste one last time.
It was later that night when the heavy rain and deafening thunder seemed to subside, but you were still lying naked on the couch. This time Joel was under you as you pillowed your head on his chest, drawing mindless patterns on his soft stomach.
"Hey, when we get back to Jackson…–" His voice was careful, soft like his lips.
Here it was again, the future, chasing away the present seeping between you. You pressed your hand to Joel's mouth stopping the unsaid stream of words and shook your head.
"No. Please, let's stay in this moment a little bit more."
He looked at you questioningly but nodded, pressing you to his chest harder, inhaling the undeniable scent of you and slowly placing a soft kiss on your hair.
"Okay…"
#Joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#serenaxpedro writes#iamasaddie fic
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Heat Waves
Gif: @serenaxpedro
Summary: A heatwave and a broken air conditioning unit in the office leads to tensions running high between you and your partner, Javier Peña. What lengths will you consider going to, seeking relief?
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, no minors etc etc . fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in an office), maybe more, just please don’t read if you can be sensitive to any kinds of sexual content
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: credit to @tightjeansjavi for the prompt, this was delightful to write hehe
You check the wall thermometer again. The needle is creeping just above 30°. You groan loudly.
For a building full of people whose work visas list them as being employed in “Janitorial Services”, the US Embassy in Medellin had a shockingly poor maintenance and janitorial department.
The air conditioning had broken yesterday, towards the end of the work day. It was bearable because it was already beginning to cool down into the evening, but today, in the mid-day sun, in a July heatwave, it had been too much for most of your colleagues to bear.
Anyone who was able to work from home had scurried off with boxes of files to catch up on paperwork in their air conditioned apartments.
But you and Javi couldn’t move the entire wall of the office where you were mapping out trade routes, connections, linking suspects together and desperately trying to find a pattern that would let you understand where exactly the evidence was that you so desperately needed.
You had probably consumed your body-weight in water. You had already shed as many layers as possible. You had even removed your tights. All that was left was a tight skirt and a blouse that was sticking to your skin all over. Plastered to your lower back, your chest. Nothing was cooling you down.
“Are you evening listening to me?” Javi sighs.
Your gaze snaps up to him, he is watching you with an expression that is more defeated than irritated.
“I’m sorry Jav, can’t think straight. This fucking heat’s making me crazy.” You say sincerely.
“Yeah, you can say that again.” He responds sympathetically.
He wipes sweat from his brow.
“Just… take a break. G’nna go outside to smoke, hopefully catch a breeze.” He mutters.
As he leaves the room, a disturbing thought crosses your mind. The shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and his back muscles flexing as he reaches for the door handle makes you question… Is Javi attractive? Well, obviously, he is, to every other woman in Colombia. But is Javi attractive to you? Not up until now, his personality thoroughly put you off. But the way he looked from behind, even with those patches of sweat staining his shirt… or, maybe, especially with those patches of sweat…
“What the fuck.” You mutter.
This heat really is making you insane. You physically shake your head to try and rid yourself of the thought. Javier fucking Peña. Yeah right.
You return your focus to the document he was attempting to discuss with you before. It was a transcript of an intercepted communication, between two parties who you couldn’t understand a reasonable explanation for them now working together. The whole thing sent your head into a spin trying to piece it together.
You knew you were on the edge of a breakthrough. You could feel it. Javi knew it too, and you were both pushing each other to your limits. He was an excellent partner. His job was the only thing he cared about. That might be the only thing you and Javi had in common. As different as the two of you were, the job was where you found mutual respect, and that was all that mattered.
Heat creeped up your chest and around the back of your neck. It was practically choking, consuming every single sense and causing a layer of impenetrable fog to settle in your mind. Being off your game at a critical point in your investigation was less than optimal.
Javi entered again and you analysed his features. If the heat was affecting him as much as it was you, he was doing a good job at not showing it.
“How are you coping with this? I feel like I’m about to be swallowed by the sun.” You groan exaggeratedly.
“Grew up in Texas.” He shrugs.
“Really?” You say, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Is that surprising?”
“Yeah. I thought Southerners were gentlemen."
“Maybe I am.” He responds, holding a bottle of water to his forehead.
You scoff and then clear your throat. “Anyway, I’m reading this again. I can’t help but think this is a code name for some kind of object or thing, not a person. If it was a person they would have come up before now. There are only so many people that run in these circles, I just don’t think we could have missed someone this important.”
He tilts his head from side to side, considering your suggestion. As he does so, the tendons in his neck protrude and you see how his tanned skin sparkles as it glistens with sweat.
Finally, he responds, “Maybe. But for what? These guys aren’t geniuses. Think we can work out the code?”
“I don’t know.” You say. “Not any further forward on that part.”
You fan yourself with some scrap paper you have folded and concertinaed carefully. You throw your head back in your seat and sigh deeply.
When you sit back up and open your eyes again, you think you find Peña’s gaze trained on your chest, but he quickly looks away.
You feel yourself equally irritated and intrigued by his staring. You had never noticed him look at you like this before.
“Everything OK, Jav?” You say, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah- Yeah. I’m good. Just- Yeah.” His eyes linger on yours for a moment and he runs his hand across his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat.
You both continue to work, but you feel his eyes continually flicking back to you, telling you he is not focussed either.
You feel as though the tension continues to build as you both try and work, and you want to tell yourself it’s not just because of the heat. But you are worried this is one-sided. Even if that would mean you were the only woman in Colombia Javi wasn’t interested in sleeping with.
As the day goes on, painfully slowly, you find yourself more and more distracted by his presence and frustrated with your lack of progress in your investigation.
You curse loudly.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, his gaze intense.
“I’m just… I’m so frustrated, Peña. I don’t know what to do about it.” You sigh.
“I’m sure I know how I could help you deal with it.” He says, with a glint in his eye.
You scowl at him. Now that had to have been intentional flirting.
“I feel like no matter what we do we are always running in circles chasing our own tails. How do they always stay one step ahead of us. Like you said, these guys aren’t geniuses.”
“Hey.” He says, his expression stern. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll get ‘em.”
“Every day that goes on we are losing more. I feel like I’ve already given all of myself and more to this investigation.”
He had closed the distance between you, and placed his hand over yours where you fiddled with your pen on the desk. The touch burned.
“Let me take your mind off it.” He says, something unfamiliar behind his eyes.
You ignore him, and slide the memo on your desk over towards him. “Can you assign someone else to the stakeout tomorrow. We have to be in for the meeting with-“
He cuts you off, grumbling, “You always use work talk to distract guys hitting on you?”
“Hitting on m- Jesus, Peña. The heat makin’ you fuckin’ stupid?” You shoot back.
“Maybe.” He shrugs. But he doesn’t step away from you.
“You believe in shitting where you eat?” You continue.
“Not usually. But I can see how frustrated you are. I’d be a bad partner to let you suffer like this.” He smirked.
You raise an eyebrow at him. You know the answer to your question but you want to hear him say it. “What are you suggesting?”
He leans in closer, “I’m suggesting I help you forget work a while, let me relieve some of your tension. Maybe it’ll force a breakthrough.”
“Yeah right.” You say. You turn to face him, looking for any sign in his dark eyes that he isn’t being serious in his proposition. Any sign of hesitation or doubt. Any sign that it is all some joke. But you don’t find it.
His moustache tickles as he whispers in your ear. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. “You know you want it. Let me help you.”
You want to say no, but your body betrays you as you find yourself being acted on by what seems like a magnetic force, drawing you closer to him.
You manage to produce one more protest, but it comes out weak, as though you are trying to convince yourself for a reason to say no. “That would be unprofessional.”
“Who’s gonna report us?” He taunts. “You?”
You find yourself shaking your head in response to his question, and he pounces on you, connecting his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.
An oppressive heat continues to suffocate your body, but this one isn’t from the conditions in the office, this is a fire that is coming from within, a burning flame stoked by the attraction and desire that has come over the two of you.
You give in to the feeling of him as his hands roam all over you, unbuttoning your blouse hastily and discarding it. A mixture of excitement and guilt nags at you. This is your partner. This is wrong. And not just any partner, it’s Javier Peña. He has screwed at least half the women in Medellin. This is not how you should be behaving.
But at the same time, you can’t deny the intense chemistry between you in this moment. The way your desperation and hunger perfectly matches his. The way he whispers dirty words in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
His cock is already straining against his tight jeans, and you reach a hand up to palm him through the denim.
He sighs at the feeling and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you up and guiding you to sit on the desk. A strong hand parts your thighs and creeps upwards, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. You moan into his mouth, and then blush, embarrassed by the affect his touches are having on you so quickly.
He continues to rub gently against the fabric and you reach towards him to release his belt buckle. You fumble with it and he pushes your hands away impatiently and takes it off himself, unzipping his jeans and taking out his erect cock.
He strokes himself a few times and you watch, transfixed, your breathing shallow.
He stops and gathers the hem of your skirt, pushing it up to your hips to release your thighs. He spreads you wide and pushes your underwear to the side, not bothering to remove it as he plunges two fingers inside you.
You gasp and he starts off with an already quick pace, hammering in and out of you and curling them inside you to reach the most pleasurable spots. It doesn’t take long until your legs are shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. You were already sweating from the heat but now you feel as though you are melting, struggling to catch your breath and releasing desperate whines of pleasure.
His thumb reaches up to rub your clit and you moan, “Javii-”
“You like that, huh?”
He attaches his lips to your neck, sucking lightly before moving down to the valley between your collarbones, licking up beads of salty sweat that have gathered there. He moans into your skin and the sound goes right through you, you twitch and start to feel an orgasm rising inside you.
“You gonna come for me before I even fuck you, huh?” He taunts, “More desperate than I thought.”
You ignore his cocky commentary and focus on the feeling of his hands on you. You can’t deny he is skilled and knows exactly the right pace and rhythm to bring you your release quickly.
The pressure on your clit increases and he rubs faster circles around it. Tension builds in your stomach.
“Don’t stop.” You gasp out.
His other hand has reached back to stroke his cock roughly, and he lets out small sounds of pleasure into your ear. You didn’t expect him to be this vocal but it turns you on.
Your pleasure is reaching its peak and he senses it too, toying with your clit unrelentingly as you writhe on the desk beneath him, the cool surface doing nothing to calm the heat inside you. Your legs tense up as your orgasm washes over you, you lose your stability and fall backwards atop the papers and documents strewn across the desk. Your back arches and his movements don’t slow down, unashamed cries of pleasure streaming from you as you ride out your orgasm.
He shifts slightly and there isn’t a moment of rest until he removes his fingers and replaces them with his hard cock. He plunges deep inside you on the first thrust, the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, almost driving you to overstimulation with your orgasm barely subsided.
He sets a punishing pace with his haps, snapping against you hard and fast, your cunt greedily clenching and tightening around him every single time he buries himself inside you.
“Feel so good. Don’t know why I waited this long.” He mutters.
You whine, unable to form a coherent response. One of his hands is squeezing at your chest and the other is gripping your hip, pulling you down on him harder to intensify the force of every single thrust.
He is everything you thought he would be, hungry and passionate and clearly practiced in the art of both giving and taking pleasure.
Your sounds echo around the room. Neither of you worry about this, knowing the office was nearly empty. Even then, your desire for him clouds your mind so far to the extent that you don’t think you would mind being caught anyway. It was worth the risk.
He takes both of your legs and manoeuvres you, bending them and lifting them up so they lazily rest against his shoulders. Thank god for yoga, you think.
The new position tightens you up and somehow allows him even deeper access. You moan shamelessly and he grunts with every single thrust. His pace is unrelenting and you feel him becoming more and more forceful with each one, chasing his climax.
“Can I come inside you?” He asks through gritted teeth.
You are unable to form words, you nod, your mouth hanging open but no sounds come out other than strangled gasps.
“Fuckkk.” He grunts, turned on even more at the prospect of filling you up and it sends him over the edge.
He spills into you, your name thrown in amongst the curses he mutters as he comes. He keeps a tight hold of you as he steadies his breathing.
Moments after he releases inside you, you feel the relief he had been promising. You close your eyes and let out a deep, contented sigh.
And then, suddenly, they fly open again.
“Move!” You almost yell, pushing his chest away from you.
“Move. I’ve got it.” He pulls himself away from you and you leap up, pulling your skirt back down. You grab a pen and begin scribbling frantic notes over the transcript.
“I’ve got it.” You repeat.
“Worked even better than I imagined.” He teased, smirking as he buttoned his jeans and re-fastened his belt before coming to join you and see the revelation you had come to.
“Good to know.” He adds, “Nice tactic for the future.”
You roll your eyes at him and thrust the paper towards him with satisfaction. He might be right, it might have been the sex that did the trick, but you would never admit it.
More Javier Peña oneshots:
Over and Done With | Partners | All Work, No Play | Little Games
#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fanfic#javier pena x reader#javier pena x f!reader#narcos smut#narcos fanfiction#agent pena#javier pena#narcos fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Appropriate Reactions
Summary: Ezra is stranded without a ship and has nothing to offer you in return for a ride off The Green... So you make a deal.
WC: 1.6k
Content/Warnings: Butt stuff :) oh and just like... warning for the way Ezra talks. Excessive use of lines from the movie.
I am excited to present the next installment of the Peg that Middle Aged Man Campaign 2023. My dear friends @atinylittlepain (who made the graphic!), @beskarandblasters, @serenaxpedro, @jksprincess10, @cutesyscreenname and I are all writing a series of pegging fics for you lovely freaks. And we all have at least one out already! We'll be posting a masterlist next week, but for now, you can find them under the tag #peg that middle aged man campaign 2023.
Thanks to @str84pedro for the edit/commentary <3
Ezra Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
The Green is a terrifying place to mine for Aurelac, being one of the rougher and less regulated prospecting destinations. As such, you don’t make a habit of talking to strangers here. Get in, get the shit, get out. That’s how you’ve always done it.
This time is different though. This time you found a man sitting on a log, helmet-covered head pressed into his hands. You tried to retreat quietly, hoping he wouldn’t notice you. It’s never a good idea to get caught out here alone. People got desperate.
Before you could safely make it back into the cover of the forest, the man looked up and locked eyes with you. You pulled your thrower on him, taking several steps back. The man threw his hands in the air and said, “Easy there, stranger. I do not intend to cause you any harm.”
He spoke with an odd cadence, some fringe-planet accent coloring his dialogue. It was oddly disarming, causing you to drop your weapon a tad.
“And why would I believe you?”
“I happen to be without a ship and therefore have no reason to dispossess you of your trophy case,” the man shot back, hands still above his head.
This shocked you, as being without a ship on The Green pretty much guaranteed you were not long for this world. His air filter would give out sooner or later and the dust would choke him to death. You may be tough, maybe even cold, but you’re not evil. You couldn’t leave him there.
You holstered your thrower and took a few steps toward the man. “I can give you a lift, but I won’t do it for free. What can you offer me?”
The man had slowly lowered his hands to gesture at himself. “Your offer is indeed generous, and I would be more than happy to sign and seal save for one glaring slip… I have naught to my name but this suit and my body.”
You considered him for a moment. It was a little hard to get a good look under the bubble of his helmet, but from what you could see, he was handsome. He had dark hair and golden skin. A mustache framed his plush lips and a scruffy beard covered his jaw. His nose was prominent and curved, which you’ve always liked on a man. Fuck it, he’s hot. “Your body will do.”
He had shrugged and stood up, striding over to shake your hand. “Name’s Ezra.”
On the walk back to your ship, you’d introduced yourself and asked for the story of how he came to be without a ship on this gods forsaken moon. It was a sorry tale and made you more than a little wary about his motivations, but he was so damn charming you couldn’t help but trust him.
Now, sitting in the captain’s chair of your ship and taking in the sight of Ezra out of his suit, you’re glad you decided to trust him. The man is gorgeous, sitting sprawled out against the wall. He’s all broad shoulders and thick thighs wrapped in a black and tan flight suit. His close cropped hair has a little blonde patch at the front and his eyes are a deep chocolate brown.
“Would I be too forward in asking how you intend to proceed, little bird?” Ezra drawls.
“Not at all. How experienced are you, exactly?” You doubt very much that he’s a blushing virgin, based on looks and age alone.
“I myself have frequently indulged, and I have not often found regret,” he throws a wink at you, the corner of his mouth quirking into a self-satisfied smirk. He knows he’s hot, damn him. But you intend to throw him for a loop.
“I’m not sure you’ve indulged in this particular technique… If you want a ride on my ship, you’ll have to let me take you, pretty boy,” you stare him down, smugness settling into your features as you take in his shocked expression.
“I… um. I have not had that particular pleasure… you do not appear to have an apparatus with which to accomplish the task at hand.” He gestures at you, clearly wondering if you’re hiding a dick under your flight suit.
“I’m full of surprises.” You stand and make your way to a small wardrobe by your bed, digging around in your stash to find what you’re looking for. You shut the door, triumphantly holding your strap out for Ezra.
The harness is made from a similar material to your flight suit. Already slotted into the ring is a long flesh colored phallus made from a soft but firm material mined on your home planet.
“Now this is somethin’ I have never seen… in all my time in The Green.” Ezra looks fascinated by your contraption, not a hint of nervousness in his big brown eyes.
“So what’ll it be, Ez? Deal or no deal?”
---
Ezra is truly beautiful. His golden skin shimmers with sweat as you pump two fingers in and out of him, lightly stroking his pretty cock. He’s laid back on your bed, thighs spread to accommodate you, a pillow under his hips to grant you easier access. “Feel good, babe?”
“Kinda nice… tingly,” Ezra chokes out, throwing his head back onto the bed dramatically. He’s extremely vocal, talking himself through the new sensation and whimpering when you curl your fingers into the sensitive spot inside him.
You lower your head and gently suck the tip of his cock into your mouth, skimming your lips over the smooth skin and taking in the earthy taste of his precum. Ezra whines and jerks his hips, trying to push himself deeper in your mouth, but you follow the motion. You just know his begging will be glorious and you’re determined to draw it out of him.
You dip your tongue into his slit at the same time you add a finger inside him. Ezra’s whole body goes taut for a moment, his head snapping up off the bed, before he relaxes into your touch. “You’re so responsive, Ez. Good boy.”
“I greatly… appreciate the compliment… little bird.” Ezra grits through his teeth. “I would also greatly…” he breaks off with a moan as you press the pads of your fingers into his prostate again. “... appreciate getting… a move on.”
You decide you’ve teased him enough for now, sitting back on your heels and slicking up your fake cock. You grip the backs of Ezra’s thighs and push his legs toward his chest, admiring the way he’s so pliant for you. You settle the tip against his hole and push in just a bit. “Good?”
“No harm done yet,” Ezra says breathlessly. You rub your hands up and down his thighs soothingly and push in slowly. Ezra sucks in a breath and blows it out quickly a few times and you giggle at him.
“Ezra, sweetheart, you alright?”
He shifts his hips, seating himself fully on your toy with a slightly pained groan. “You don’t have to be so gentle with me, little bird. I will not shatter.”
You take this as your cue to fuck him stupid. You wonder if you can render him speechless. Leaning forward slightly and readjusting your grip on his thighs, you pull out of him and thrust back in to the hilt twice.
“Slow… slow down a beat there, little bird.” Ezra’s hands flutter over his own chest and up into his hair, like he doesn’t know where to settle them.
You slowly circle your hips, rubbing against the spot inside him you know will get him back on board. Ezra tugs at his own hair and babbles a string of praise at the sensation. “There ya go baby. I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?”
You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his head and slot your thighs under his. You thrust slowly in and out of him, drawing a circle with your hips each time. His body chases your movements like he doesn’t want you to pull away at all, hands sliding up around your waist and pulling you into him.
“Fuck, little bird, you are a miracle.” He gazes up at you in awe, as if you just told him you know where the Queen’s Lair is and you’re going to take him there. His lips part and his head digs into the sheets as he arches his hips up to you. You reach between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his length and begin stroking him in time with your thrusts.
“Are you going to come for me, pretty boy?” You whisper before sucking his earlobe into your mouth. He whimpers and arches further into your body, hips shifting to meet every thrust.
“Please! Don’t stop birdie, I’m near- nearing my rel- release.” You stifle a giggle at his phrasing and speed up your hand on his cock. You feel his body jerking beneath you and pull back to watch his face as he cums.
His eyes are shut tight, brow pinched in the middle, and little moans and whimpers fall from his parted lips. You lean forward and suck his plush bottom lip between your teeth, grazing it lightly before kissing him fully.
You feel the hot spurts of his cum cover your fingers as he breaks the kiss, throwing his head back and groaning deep and loud. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your back, pulling you down on top of him.
He lays there, panting into your shoulder for a minute before he turns his head and whispers in your ear.
“Actions like these foment the threat of appropriate reactions.”
----
#peg that middle aged man campaign 2023#peg that middle aged man 2023 campaign#Ezra#Ezra fics#Ezra fanfiction#Ezra x reader#Ezra x you#Prospect#Prospect (2018)#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro fics#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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weed smoking! joel x dispensary shop! reader preview 🍃🔥💨💨💨
A/N: A little taste for you guys! I am very excited at this new idea, especially because I am co-writing this with the actual love of my life @serenaxpedro!!!
So excited to see where it will go and excited to see our grumpy old peepaw finally kick back and relax with some alternate pain management methods. He's not gonna be happy about it at first, but it's going to turn out so good 🤓. Moodboard art also by @serenaxpedro (please go check out her delicious writing as well, she's got some YUMMY Joel fic's posted 🫠)
sneak peak under the cut, feel free to comment or reblog if you want more!
“The side effects from an over the counter painkiller could spike your cholesterol even higher, which is what we do not want,” the doctor continues, unaware of Joel’s steadily boiling frustration. “Which is why I wanted to suggest an alternate method for pain management, something more natural.”
For fucks sake.
He thought this would be a simple appointment. Show up, get a new prescription for whatever magic pills can help this pain in his back to dissipate, and go home. Not look into ‘alternative methods’ that undoubtedly wouldn’t work.
Joel’s gaze narrows and he huffs, leaning back in his seat. “Natural? Like what, seeing one of those hokey practitioners that read your energies and use natural herb remedies and all that crap?”
“Not quite that per say but it is natural medicine. Medical marijuana to be exact.”
Joel’s mouth goes dry as his jaw hangs open. Weed? Nope. Not the solution he was looking for.
Maybe what he should be on the market for is a new doctor at this point.
“Uh listen, I appreciate the suggestion doc, but I don’t think that’s gonna help me at this point. I don’t do that kinda stuff,” he waves his hand dismissively. “If it gets to that point I’ll crack open a beer.” Joel leans forward in his seat and he starts to get up.
“Just a second, hold on. At least let me write you a prescription for it today and you can choose whether or not you want to get it filled at a dispensary.”
“I don’t think-” Joel continues to protest but the doctor cuts him off.
“It’s medicinal marijuana Joel,” the doctor says plainly, as if that’s supposed to calm his nerves. “It has opiate-like properties, which means it’s similar to a pain killer, just without all the usual side effects that come with over the counter medicine. Lots of individuals, older and younger,” the doctor pointedly emphasizes, “use it to help with aches, pain, anxiety, even mental health issues. Not just the physical.”
Joel continues to eye the doctor warily, his spine now stiff as he sits up in the chair. Even now, he can feel his body protesting his upright position, the inkling of that pinched phantom pain coming back slightly.
“Does it get you high?” he asks the older man.
Aside from the stories he’s heard, he’s had his fair share of buddies who used to toke up back in the day. Hell, they didn’t even know what was in it back then, they just smoked as a distraction, something fun to do, to take the edge off after a long day's work. Joel tried it once and didn’t like it at all. The hazy, fuzzy feeling not mixing well with his frayed nerves, all glassy eyed and out of touch with his body and his mind. No, he would much rather crack open a beer or pour himself a whiskey neat to kick back and relax when he was stressed.
“Not necessarily, some strains, or some kinds of weed have a higher content of THC, tetrahydrocannabinol, the psychoactive component that makes you feel high or ‘out of it,”’ the doctor explains with finger quotes. “Some medicinal marijuana are low in THC but high in CBD, the relaxing component of marijuana. CBD acts as a relaxer, and it can ease physical pain. So depending on what you’re comfortable with, you can opt for the kinds that have a high CBD but low THC content, which will help with any pain issues, without causing you to experience the high.”
Joel’s mind whirls around the acronyms. THC, CBD, ABC.
Christ.
Does it have to be this fucking complicated?
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfiction
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On the topic on controversial kinks, would u be down to write a Joel fic w a focus on knife play, blood kink? Could be anyone’s blood tbh😵💫 idk mes a freaky gal
I love the "could be anyone's blood" 😍. Bloodplay isn't exactly in my wheelhouse rn but Raider:J. Miller is a skin carving part of the Raider series where you bleed (definitely check this out if only for the amazing collage by @serenaxpedro ). Then he's cleaning you up in the next raider. The Dark Mode section of my master list also has some knife stuff. And of course there's always vampire!Joel but no knife in that. Ty for reading 🖤
Others:
what I need by @swiftispunk (knife play)
more skin carving, from @romana-after-dark
another skin carving from @djarin-dreams .
p.s. And as a side note (for the blog at large) about blood kink, I get a lot of period asks. I recently added it to my unlikely section of "about requests" (profile header) only bc i feel like it gets repetitive and in reality period sex is just normal sex to me. Not to say I won't do anytbing period related in my stories (I will, like I have something coming up) but it's highly unlikely upon request.
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Sunday Digest - the last edition for a while
hello, my friends. the time has come, this is my last week before i ship off across the country for my internship and go on a much needed hiatus. here's the deal, i have lots of good stuff to share this week, and because i've been writing like a bat out of hell, my hope is to still post a few things here and there over the next two months. you can expect me back, but still slow, mid-August.
but first! let's have a good week, shall we?
....................................
here's what you can expect from me this week
Javi G pegging on Monday, why not?
the last chapter of Apothecary on Tuesday before it takes a break along with me :') you can send me your therapy bills after
the first chapter of June on Thursday
and I'll tack this on too, a Marcus Pike pegging fic probably next Monday
here's what happened last week
Joel pegging on Monday
Apothecary, chapter 8 on Tuesday
Dieter Bravo pegging on Thursday
the prologue to June on Friday
busy busy busy
....................................
cool stuff I read last week
admittedly, I wasn't doing very much reading because of how much writing I was doing, but I do have a few gems to share
@dreamsofmandalore is working on a really lovely raider!joel series called Beastly and the first two chapters are captivating
@beskarandblasters has a new joel series all based on songs off of Punisher, and Garden Song rocked
@pedgeitopascal is working on a new joel series titled To Hell and Back and the first chapter was very intriguing. i'm excited to read more
a wonderful band of humans, plus me, have been hard at work on the Peg that Middle Aged Man Campaign. Go check out the work of @wannab-urs , @serenaxpedro , @jksprincess10 , and @beskarandblasters
that's all off the top of my head. like i said, i had a slow week on the reading front. please, pretty please, add your own recs in the comments!
.....................................
thanks for sticking with me, folks. miss you already.
with care,
gin
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15 questions & 15 mutuals
Thank youuuuu for the tag @cupofjoel
Were you named after anyone?
nah
When was the last time you cried?
oof yesterday I cry all the time
Do you have kids?
nope and I never will
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
a good amount!
What's the first thing you notice about people?
how they treat others
What's your eye color?
green!
Scary movies or happy endings?
happy endings I guess!
Any special talents?
nah I suck at a lot of things
Where were you born?
New York State
What are your hobbies?
writing, playing some video games
Have any pets?
cats!
What sports do you play/have you played?
I did tennis and track & field in high school but I sucked at both
How tall are you?
5'5”
Favorite subject in school?
earth science!
Dream job?
something to do with earth science! studying volcanoes probably
No pressure tagging: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @jksprincess10 @pr0ximamidnight @bearsbeetsbeskar @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @dinsdjrn @dindjarinslegs @serenaxpedro @funnygirlthatgab @cannolighost @pedritosdarling @javiscigarette
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a hungry dog on a very short leash
paring: dark!bfd!Joel x f!Reader
rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)
word count: 4k~
summary: one time you decide to cheat on your boyfriend is obviously the time his dad catches you
a/n: I don't know how and why this happened, but I feel like this might turn into a series if it gets enough love! Special thanks to my beta for this work @multiversed-daydreamer <;3
warnings: dead dove do not eat; dub-con; no-outbreak; PWP (for real, no plot at all); manipulation; infidelity; explicit sexual content; oral sex (m receiving); degradation/praise; unsafe PinV; face slapping (barely); dirty talk; mention of anal; pain kink; no use of y/n
MY MASTERLIST
PART TWO
ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
You wished you had a better excuse for yourself when a towering figure of your boyfriend's dad tapped you on the shoulder, taking you away from the embrace of some cute stranger whose tongue was halfway kissing your glands, but you didn't. When you saw the furrowed brow of your might-be father-in-law the only thing on your tongue was a sticky 'oh fuck'.
You jumped up from the boy's lap so fast your head went dizzy and the man in front of you grabbed you by the shoulder to keep you steady.
"Mr. Miller," you stuttered, "it's not -"
"Please, don't insult me by saying it's not what I think it is."
No, it was exactly what he thought it was. You, his son's girlfriend, having fun with a guy who most definitely was not his son. The reason was not that important, not to him, at least.
You wanted to start explaining right away, how you've had a rough patch, how you seemed to only fight, how every fucking thing he did begin to drive you insane. How you couldn't even fuck him without getting irritated. How you just wanted… And that was where you were stuck. You had no fucking idea what you wanted. You had no idea what to tell Jason's pleading eyes when he asked you what should he do to make you happy. The only answer you had was 'don't be you', but it was too cruel to say out loud. So you decided to find out what it was you were looking for and somehow it made you end up where you were. In a shady club on the outskirts of town, where the music was too loud and the drinks too watered down, with your boyfriend's dad staring at you disapprovingly.
The stream of excuses and almost spilled tears flow out of you and the next thing you know is you're being enveloped in a bear hug, large hands swiping up and down your back in an comforting motion.
"I know, baby, I know." Joel's voice was deep in your ears, his usual green flannel was soft as you fisted the material on his sides, still shaking. "But I have to tell him, you know that, right?"
You shook your head, face still pressed into his broad chest, begging him against it, telling him you'd fix everything, you'd tell him yourself. You didn't even know why you cared that much, you were close to breaking your two-year relationship yourself, but the thought of Joel telling him mortified you. He let you go, studying your face and swiping a tear that escaped your eye.
"Let's go somewhere more quiet to talk, okay?"
You nodded in agreement and let him lead you to the area with private rooms. The space looked vulgar: there was no way the brown leather couch was clean, but you couldn't see it under the glitching red lights. The music filling the place was quieter and definitely was not meant to be danced to. You sat on the couch when he patted a place next to him.
"Now, I know Jason's a bit... immature when it comes to life, all of its' aspects. And I know that a girl like you must have desires, needs my son can't meet." His face looked different in red, you didn't want to see it, but it almost seemed demonic.
You hurried to oppose him.
"He's - -"
Joel raised his hand not letting you continue. "But if only you came to me, sugar, I wouldn't have the need to tell him, y'know? Since I know you're being safe and ain't gonna give my boy anything, ain't gonna break his heart, when it's just physical... It wouldn't hurt him. But when you go around the bars like that," he vaguely motioned on a tight silver dress hugging your body like a second skin, "whoring yourself out - -"
"I - - " You tried again, ignoring his bluntness and an endearment lost between condescending words, he huffed, and it sounded irritated.
"I didn't ask, sweetheart, I just call it how I see it. Let's make it a mutually pleasurable experience, hm? I'll help you way more, of course, but you can just owe me a thanks."
At that moment, when your head welcomed the gravity in a form of a nod, you couldn't explain to yourself why you cared about Jason so much that you were ready for any perverted thing his dad would demand. Was it even about Jason?
"Good girl. Come 'ere, darlin’"
You shuffled closer, your thighs flush against each other, but Joel tsk’d and in a flash of light his massive hand enveloped your thighs, pulling you on top of him to straddle his lap. You squeaked and he lightly slapped your thighs, rough palms creeping further and sliding up your already bunched up dress, fully exposing your legs and neon pink thongs.
"This thing here," he swiped his finger along the band of your panties, barely touching what was hidden with them. "It is like a neon sign 'fuck me, please'. Not a thing you'd wear if you weren't planning on having sex tonight, is it?"
You shook your head, not knowing if you're agreeing with him or the opposite.
"It's okay, baby," he took his right hand from your thigh and brought your face close to his by the chin. His left hand kept on your waist, thumb pressing a bit lower than your belly button. "I understand." His whisper was hot on your lips and when you once again opened your mouth to explain, or say sorry or anything, he used the moment to dive into you, crashing your mouths together. His beard prickled your chin and his lips were anything but gentle. Molding you to fit him, biting your lower lip so you would open your mouth further and let him inside, which you did. You hoped to taste alcohol - preferably a lot of it - on his tongue, something that would give a better explanation to what was happening, but the best you could find on his tongue was a hint of beer and cigarettes.
His hands slowly mapped your body, meeting around your neck. You were hot, your brain was melting from the lack of oxygen and the terrifying knowledge that Joel Miller was an excellent kisser and your body recognized it against all morals.
His tongue caressed you just right, teeth biting your soft flesh a bit too rough, but instead of pained, the moan that erupted from you was satisfied.
"Are you enjoying this, baby?" He looked amused, his eyes blinking with perverted pleasure. You were silent, your unsteady breathing betraying you. He lifted his hips a little, his clothed bulge hitting the wet spot on your panties roughly. "Come on now, get on your knees, I want you to kiss me somewhere else."
Your eyes widened, arousal being put on halt as the reality of what was happening overwhelmed your senses.
"Don't make me repeat myself." Patience seemed to run thin in Joel, opening the gates to something way more dark as his grip on your neck tightened. You felt if he squeezed you a bit more he'd leave a bruising handprint on your neck. Slowly slipping from his tense thighs you settled on your knees between his widely spread legs. "Go on." His eyes pointed to his ever growing bulge and you could swear you saw fire dancing in his pupils as your shaking hands started undoing his jeans.
He let out a sigh of relief as your hands let his cock spring free, the massive size of him intimidating to say the least. The last thing you wanted to do is compare him to your boyfriend - his son - but a rapid thought of how Jason had nothing on his father neither in terms of size nor girth still ran through your mind. His shaft was thick, you knew you wouldn't be able to wrap your hand around it and your insides clenched. He was veiny and tan, dark tip glistening with precum, inviting you to wrap your lips around it. You stared at it for a good minute, calculating how the fuck you're going to fit inside you - mouth or cunt - all good seven inches of him. You doubted he actually wanted to just kiss it.
"I know my cock's impressive, but stop fucking staring at it and get to sucking.
The polite, almost gentle Mr. Miller was nowhere to be seen, and he grabbed the back of your head, fingers tangling your hair as he guided you to his cock.
You did kiss it at first, getting to know the feeling of his hot skin under your lips, the salty taste of him on your tongue, the odor of his sweat and cologne - did he fucking sprayed perfume on his balls? - invading your lungs.
"I hoped you knew that 'kissing' was a euphemism." He quite literally took the matters in his own hands, squeezing your cheeks painfully and forcing his dick inside your hot mouth. Joel was too wound up or cared too little, going as hard as he did, shoving as much of his length inside you as he could - which wasn't a lot before you started gagging and gasping for air. Your hands went to his thighs, nails digging in the coarse material of his jeans as you tried to push away against his deadly grip.
"Now, now, baby, I know you can do better than that. Didn't my boy train that little throat of yours?" You moaned in protest, saliva dripping from the corners of your stretched lips and the man above you groaned in pleasure as another inch of his cock slipped inside. "I guess not."
You couldn't do anything but let him use your mouth as he pleased, bobbing your head up and down. "Come on, you need to take every inch, love. You're already doing great for me."
Something wild stirred your insides as a familiar wave of need dampened your panties further and you squeezed your thighs together either to get some relief. yourself or to suffocate your pleasure. You didn't notice when Mr. Miller's grip on your head loosened and you started to willingly force his cock down your throat.
You felt tears streaming down your cheeks in constant black waterfalls. Your eyes stung and your throat was full of his cock, but you continued inching further, the desire to touch the base of his cock with your lips ripping at your insides. You tried to see Joel through the tears, even with the blurred vision you saw his smile.
It was asymmetric and thin, almost maniacal.
"I love when you suffer for me, baby girl. You look so good crying on my cock." You gasped and as soon as your front teeth barely touched the sensitive skin of his cock you felt a slap burning on your left cheek.
"Careful, you don't wanna hurt me," the caress of his rough palm felt more painful, when he whispered a barely-audible "darling."
You nodded as much as you could, full of his flesh that somehow continued growing in you no matter how you tried to get used to it. He was close, you knew it by the breaths that were colored with little growls now, by the fact that he didn't say much more besides moans interrupted by occasional 'good slut, baby, such a good cockwhore' that made you squirm and press the heel of your foot harder into your aching core. The rough pull of hand that tugged you by your hair off his saliva coated cock took you by surprise, though. You were ready to feel his hot cum trickle down your throat, almost anticipating it, but when his hard angry length stared at you and he forcefully evened his breathing you knew how mistaken you were. Your eyes traveled back to his face in time to see him open his previously tightly shut eyes. He gave you another one of his smiles and patted your cheek, not caring about saliva and his precum covering your flesh.
"Good fucking girl," he exhaled, "but I have something else in mind."
You shivered when he got up, cock still free and bobbing, almost hypnotizing you to follow it with your gaze. You didn't get a chance, though, as he gripped your shoulders and brought you to your shaking feet. He looked you up and down, twisting his head to the side as his eyes stopped at your thongs. Without so much as a word, his large hand palmed your whole pussy, his fingers thick and warm against your aching core when he pressed into your still covered hole. "I see you're having as much fun as I am, baby. Good to know."
An involuntary moan escaped your throat before you could kill it when his palm pressed on your clit that by now was begging for any kind of attention.
He nodded to the couch. He didn't need to tell you what to do as you obediently climbed on it, draping yourself on the backseat, your pussy on the display for him.
He landed on the seat, his body half turned to you as his palm caressed your naked ass. The guilt filled your senses because at that moment you wanted nothing more than for his fingers to stray further, touch your dripping pussy no matter how wrong this all was. Be careful what you wish for, or whatever that bullshit saying was, you thought, as his fingers roughly yanked your panties down, a string of your arousal following with the garment.
"Fuck, now this pretty pussy just looks sinfully juicy." Joel hummed approvingly as he slid two of his thick fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. He spread your lips and you gasped at the feeling of being so exposed.
"What a gorgeous hole, screaming to be filled, isn't it?" Apparently the question was rhetorical, because he immediately pushed both digits inside you, the stretch not yet painful but intense. He pumped into you a couple of times before letting out a whistle. "Damn, baby, you want my cock so bad your cunt is practically crying all over my fingers."
His fingers continued his twisted caresses, kissing and stretching your walls, sending a shameful shiver down your ass. "I love how needy you are, must've been neglected for so long."
Joel took his fingers out and you heard a slurping sound. 'He's fucking licking his fingers,’ you clenched your butt at the thought of it and felt the couch shift as he stood up, standing behind you with one leg still pressing into the couch to the left of you for more balance. "Don't worry, baby, I won't let this pussy starve." The tip of his cock grazed your opening and you held your breath in twisted anticipation. He'd more to take than you ever had and you panicked, preparing for the pain. Joel continued swiping his cock through your sleek pussy, covering himself in your juices and letting your anticipation grow. When his tip kissed your clit you moaned, shifting closer to him and he chuckled. "Ready, baby."
It wasn't a question.
In one swift motion his cock split your pussy open and he sheathed himself in your tight heat, splitting you open. The burning stretch felt like he was ripping you in half, exactly what you were preparing for. The thing you didn't prepare for was the feeling it left in the pit of your stomach as his tip kissed the deepest part of you. Your cry was pathetic, just what he wanted to hear as his cock hid inside you.
It was too much. "Too much. Too much. Too much."
You didn't notice how you started chanting the words out, suffocating either on your tears, or was his cock choking you from the inside?
His hands on your hips as he pushed you up and down his cock were nothing but a welcoming distraction from the ever-growing sensation. "No, baby, not too much, just the right amount for that greedy cunt."
He didn't laugh but you could hear the smile tainting his lips. Did you actually like it? Did you like the pain? Was your pussy gushing all around him just a defensive mechanism? You couldn't think about it as a new wave of arousal enslaved every nerve ending in your body and your pussy clenched around Joel's cock, the fact that he didn't dare to miss.
"Tell me how good it feels, baby. It feels good, doesn't it?" And it did. Goddamn you hated yourself for it, but being stretched on his cock on a leather covered couch in a sweat smelling room with vulgar red lights dancing on your skin was as close to being satisfied as you ever felt in your life.
"Feels good, da... Mr. Miller."
You prayed he didn't hear the little slip you allowed yourself. You didn't know where it came from, you never said anything like that to Jason, not him, not any of your other partners. Luck wasn't on your side when you heard the man behind you bark a laugh.
"Daddy, hm?" He brought his hand to your neck, squeezing it and bringing your back flush against chest as he bit your ear before whispering, "I think I like the sound of it, baby. Don't be shy. Knew you needed a daddy since the moment I saw ya."
You whined, cheeks burning with shame from what the words flowing out of his mouth did to you. Your pussy clenched around him and his hand landed on your asscheek, "goddamn, you perfect little slut, you actually like it."
His surprise wasn't there for long as he continued stretching you out on his cock.
Joel leaned away, dropping your upper-body to its initial place over the backseat of the couch. The zipper of his opened jeans scraped the burning flesh of your ass and the button must've left an imprint, he didn't care one bit, fascinated by the look of your cunt around his cock. You felt him move a little, one of his hands disappearing from its place on your hips.
"Should we send a little video message to Jason, hm? See if he recognizes your ass bouncing so sweetly on my cock? Or should I send him a picture of you pretty gaping hole and see if he recognizes that?"
He pulled out for the briefest of moments, lowering his head to see your empty pussy flutter, begging to be filled without words. Joel licked his lips, a new desire igniting in him, but he quickly shut it down, shoving his cock back into your wet warmth and sighing.
"I recon he won't. Good boy he is, but he never had that in him. He could never use you to the fullest of your potential." You heard the telltale blip of the iPhone starting to record a video and put your head lower hiding your face in your hands and hair. Joel didn't notice, he was too enraptured by the vision of your abused pussy swallowing the thickness of his cock with little to no resistance at all. "Good thing I'm here now, baby. Now daddy's gonna take good care of you." He smacked your ass lightly. "So, should we send him a little wanking present?" You understood that now most likely he had a video and it sent anxiety shivers down your spine, you felt you were on the edge of tears again and did the only thing you could do - started begging.
"No, Mr Miller, please, don't." You turned your head just in time to see him raise his hand highly and slap your ass once more, this time it was painful enough that you knew you'd have a bruise.
"What did I tell you to call me?"
You gulped down the fantom rock that was blocking your breath way. "No, daddy, please." You didn't hear anything besides his hips continuing to snap and create a wet sound between your sweat slicked bodies.
And there it was, a little 'whoosh' of a message being sent and then the voice of the man who was finding new ways to ruin you.
"Oops, my finger was so wet it slipped, so I guess that's your fault, isn't it?" He was met with silence filled only with the sultry music of the club.
Joel stopped fucking you and squeezed your asscheeks painfully, warning like poisonous honey filling his voice. "I asked you a question, girl!"
"Yes, daddy, yes, it's my fault, I'm sorry." Your eyes welled with tears but you couldn't say they were all from pain or humiliation. The way he manhandled you, the way he forced you to take what you didn't know you were craving made you feel lightheaded. You didn't think about what this would bring, submerging into the feelings of his body overtaking yours in the most primal way.
"You're not yet, but you're getting there, sweetheart."
He resumed the punishing pace, stuffing his cock so deep inside you it made you think you'll forever have the imprint of his veiny shaft and prominent tip on your insides. He was growling, pressing his sweat soaked shirt to your back as his hand found your throbbing clit. You whimpered, shame enhancing your pleasure as you bucked your hips to meet the rapid movements of his fingertips. Your need added fire to his desire as he let out animalistic sounds right in your ear.
"That's right baby girl, don't need to fight it. Take it, I know you like this fat cock stuffing you."
Tears streamed down your face, your body a rigid sex doll in his hands, made for his pleasure. Your orgasm punched you in your stomach and your lips parted in a silent scream. It was good, it was so fucking terrible, but goddamn would you be a liar if that wasn't the best orgasm of your life. Fear, shame, need and pleasure made an intoxicating cocktail that was now gushing down your legs and all around Joel's cock.
"F-fuck, fuck that cunt is choking me. Fucking hell," his growl was almost scary as his hips shuddered. You whined, your swollen walls cried in overstimulation as he continued pounding you, chasing his own pleasure with no care to your comfort.
There was something sickeningly grounding in it. You felt free of everything, thoughts, feelings even desire to move. You just let him use you however he pleased, your wasted body just a container for his pleasure. "Gonna fill you up real good, baby. Gonna stuff you so full, you'll feel it for days to come." It was the last thing he whispered before he let you take every last drop of his cum, covering your insides in him. With a heavy exhale he fell on top of you, pressing you in the sticky leather of the couch. You both just laid like that, your breathing mingling together as his cock softened inside you, still keeping his seed inside.
You whimpered as he stood up, finally taking his cock out and slapping your bruised ass with a surprising gentleness.
"Come on, baby, turn around."
It took you all the strength that was left in you to turn around, limbs heavy, head barely supported by your neck. Joel looked as fucked out as you felt, face and temples drenching with sweat, shirt crinkled and his cock out, glistening with all kinds of fluids.
"Now, be a grateful girl and clean my cock, will ya? I can't walk around with your cum all over it, can l? It'd be downright filthy."
You shuffled around, finding a good position kneeling on the couch so his dick was on the level with your mouth. Joel brought his hand to your neck and squeeze, pushing you lower. He didn't need to press hard, you went willingly, swiping your tongue at the soft flesh that now finally fit into your mouth without chocking you.
"That's it, darlin'" he sighed, looking at you with a mix of perverted pride and adoration. "Next time we'll see if that pretty ass of yours stretches for me as good as your lips do."
Next time...
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some rotten man
paring: dark!Joel x f!Reader
rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)
word count: 1,2k~
summary: you really never thought you'd need this type of training.
a/n: I'm all flavors of fucked up and so is Joel, make sure you check out the warnings before you proceed with reading! Special thanks to the literal love of my life, my emotional support human and beta @bearsbeetsbeskar <;3
warnings: dead dove do not eat; PWP (for real, no plot at all); implied non-con; explicit sexual content; rough oral sex (m receiving); degradation; spitting; face slapping (barely); no use of y/n
ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
"Now, my little slut, you're going to open that fucking mouth of yours and I'm going to fuck it until you're so full that my cum gushes out of it. Do you understand me?"
You trembled under the man's towering figure, his bloodied hand gripping your hair so tight that tears started welling up in your red eyes.
"I can't fuckin' hear you, baby girl."
"Ye- yes." You stuttered out and nodded, but didn't do anything else to show your consent.
“Well then what are you waiting for, darlin'? Stick that bratty tongue of yours out."
You opened your mouth, following his command. A deep inhale made your throat dry, but when you saw him pulling his cock out your throat became sandpaper. Joel’s cock was massive even with his height and broad frame. It was big to the point that even under different circumstances you'd find it terrifying. The head was deep dusty pink, slit glistening with beads of precum. He was thick, veins covering the shaft made it look even bigger and more intimidating. You tried to swallow with your tongue still licking air, but your throat just contracted, walls sticking to each other unpleasantly.
"You look hungry, little one,” Joel barked a laugh, “let me help you with that.”
He slapped his dick on your tongue, letting you feel the weight of it, before leaning back and furrowing his brows. Joel looked at you, your pathetic position sent shivers down his spine. There was just this one little thing… Before you could even brace yourself, you felt before seeing him spitting directly onto your tongue, and then putting his cock back where he thought it belonged. “Oh, yeah,” he almost sang with pleasure, “that’s better, isn't it?”
You just stayed still, getting used to the foreign weight in your mouth, the meat of his cock filling you completely even though you saw he wasn't halfway in. His hips rocked violently, the tip hitting the back of your throat and he threw his head back. His moan would be deafening if it didn't drown in the sound of you gagging and coughing. You knew that if you'd had anything to eat in the last few days it'd be already all over him. Reflexively, you pushed back as far as you could with your hands tied behind your back. One second his cock fell out of your mouth, and the next a loud slap and a burning sensation on your left cheek made tears spring out of your eyes.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, hm?” Joel grabbed your cheeks painfully squeezing them between his fingers and yanked you back so hard that your face met his crotch. “Stupid fucking slut," his hand twisted in your hair, roping it around his fist. “We're just getting started.”
You didn't know if he was offended or excited by your physical reaction, but the next time he snapped his cock into your mouth he went even rougher, keeping you tightly pressed even when you started coughing and suffocating on it.
"You either control your breath or you're gonna die on my fat cock, baby.”
His tone was playful, but by the way he gripped your head you knew he was dead serious. You tried to calculate his rhythm and the intensity of his thrusts to get a small window of opportunity to get some air into your lungs even if the air you breathed was filling you with the man just as much. The heavy odor of his musk and a salty hint of sweat.
With each movement of his hips he filled you a little bit more, you were almost grateful to him for not trying to squeeze his whole dick into your throat in one thrust. You didn't know if minutes passed, or hours, the only thing you felt was the overwhelming thickness of his cock in your throat and the pulsating sensation when he stayed inside it for a moment too long. He moaned, enjoying the feeling of your throat contracting around his aching shaft, trying to violently push it out when he forced it to stay in place.
"Fuck, little one, I might just stay in your throat forever.” He whispered harshly, and it felt like his grip on your head became almost gentle as he let go of your hair and scratched the back of your skull with blunt fingernails.
By the time he pulled his cock out of your mouth you thought this was never going to end. You felt your throat burning, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as you tried to catch your breath, tears streamed down your cheeks in an uncontrollable stream.
"Not bad for a first, hm, baby?"
You couldn't answer, vocal chords betraying you, but Joel wasn't one to talk into the void. Once again he grabbed you by the hair, yanking it so hard you could swear he ripped a strand or two as he forced you to make eye-contact with him, his glistening cock a threat in front of your lips. "I asked you a fucking question."
"Yes." Your voice was hoarse and barely above whisper.
"Yes what, slut?"
"Yes, Sir."
Talking hurt even more than swallowing his massive shaft down your throat, it was like sandpaper scraping open wounds. Of course he couldn't pass up an opportunity to mention it.
"Got my little cockslut's throat fucked up, didn't I?" His smile was full of animalistic pride as he tutted and shook his head. Joel reached for your cheek with his hand and you braced yourself for another slap, but only a cruelly gentle caress followed. "It's okay, little one, I have the perfect medicine that's gonna cure all the soreness. Open up," he patted your chin, "come on, fucktoy, I'm not going to repeat myself."
As soon as you opened your trembling lips that were already torn on the edges from his abuse, he was quick to shove his cock inside your warmth. By the way you felt it throb on your tongue as it slid further down your throat, you knew that he was close. The man above you was groaning, with every violent thrust of his hips the rough material of his jeans met your burning skin, making you wince. You felt his hand slowly descend from the back of your head and curl around your throat. It was huge, big enough to easily grab half of your neck. You were barely able to inhale between his thrusts and you were terrified that if he squeezed you a bit harder he'd just end up shooting a load down a corpse's throat. But it wasn't his intention. Instead, he tightened his grip just right to feel his cock down your throat but at the same time not cutting off your air flow completely.
“Ughh,” his groan was primal, reverberating from the depths of his chest and vibrating through all of his body. "Perfect. Fucking. Slut.” Each word was accentuated with a thrust, deeper and deeper, you wouldn’t be surprised if your chin was bruised from his efforts already. He squeezed your throat harder than before and moaned as he could almost feel his thick and salty load dripping down the inside of your throat. When you started thrashing, he finally noticed that your face got dangerously purple from the lack of breathing and pulled out, opting to squeeze your bruised cheeks instead.
"That's it, baby, good job." He cooed with a sick sweetness. "You need some training, but it's okay. We've got all the time in the world, and I'm an excellent teacher."
#joel miller x reader#dark!joel miller#serenaxpedro writes#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#dark smut#dark!Joel x reader#iamasaddie fic
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take on me
paring: Joel Miller x reader
rating: explicit
word count: 482
masterlist
You didn't think that some day you'd find the desire in yourself to wake a man up by sucking his cock. Relationships were never your thing, but when you got into one, it was always for your benefit. You were a taker, not a giver — the exact type of person who could survive in the burning dumpster fire that this new world was.
Joel barged into your life and turned everything you knew about yourself upside down. He was a taker, too, but he was different. He took in a way that you actually thought he was giving. Maybe you were just that compatible. When he used your body for his pleasure, and you were screaming from the top of your lungs because no one had ever given you that good. When he shoved his cock in your mouth, you took it like the last meal on Earth, giggling because you felt like a perverted princess. He was always the one to come to you; in his mind, it was a power move: 'take what you want when you want', in your mind, you saw him on a leash. A desperate puppy that runs to you whenever you need, good thing you always needed him; that kept your delusion alive.
He passed out on the bed next to you, something he almost never did, and you woke up with this dire need to take him. Take it from him. There was little you both could give to each other besides the warmth of your bodies.
Your hand slowly traced the outline of his flaccid cock in the poor excuse for underwear that he wore. You were surprised he didn't put the jeans back on to match that stupid denim shirt he never took off.
With a swift but gentle movement, you took his cock out, saliva pooling on your tongue from the mere memory of the pleasure it gave you. You slid down, face mere inches from the hot flesh, and took him in your mouth. He was still soft, and you reveled in the thought that you could finally fit all of him into your mouth. You knew it wouldn't stay like that for long. As soon as your tongue started caressing the underside of his cock, you felt the shaft getting harder and longer in your mouth. It was a heady sensation, and you started bobbing your head up and down in lazy movements, swiping the first drops of precum from his slit.
You heard Joel shifting but never took your mouth off him.
"What are you doing?" His voice was raspy from sleep, and the flashbacks of all the filthy things he grunted in your ear yesterday overwhelmed you. You took a second to breathe and let his cock out of your mouth, planting a promising kiss on his already beautifully flushed head.
"Shhh… Relax, Joel, just let me take it."
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whatever you want
paring: Comandante Veracruz x Reader
rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)
word count: 1,7k~
summary: you really need to be careful about what you say to a grumpy patron coming to your bar, or there might be repercussions.
a/n: dead dove do not eat; this is a very dar fic, make sure you check out the warnings before you proceed with reading! Special thanks to a FUCKING gem of a human being @wannab-urs for proofreading it at 5am <3 and a shout out to my WhoreHome for supporting my obsession with this delicious psychopath 🔪
warnings: non-con; explicit sexual content; knife use (not really playing here, kids; forced orgasm; ass slapping (but like barely); dirty talking; NO USE OF Y/N
MY MASTERLIST
ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ���ᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
translation of Spanish words is under the fic*
"Aguardiente, solo."
Working in a sketchy bar on the outskirts of Colombia didn't bring a lot of polite people your way, and you definitely didn't work as a bartender to make small talk, but people who came in the middle of the day usually started their orders with "hola" at the very least.
You looked over at the man who made the order. His jaw looked sharper than a knife, covered in what seemed like a three-day stubble. His deep brown eyes were framed by dark circles and his brow was bleeding. His gaze was fixed on the fists he put on the bar table.
"Día malo?" You knew Spanish well enough to handle a curt conversation and hoped he wouldn't get into specifics. The man looked at you from under his furrowed brows and you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about. He wasn't a talker.
"Aguardiente, solo."
He repeated his order, staring at you like you were the dumbest person on the planet and for a second you did feel that way. You turned on your heels, throwing the rag you used to dry the glasses over your shoulder and whispered under your nose.
"Whatever you want, asshole."
You stretched your hand out to take the bottle of the liquor you needed from under the bar, put it on the table with a loud thud and started cutting a lime, putting too much pressure on the knife blunted with time and making the fruit squirt its juices all over your hand. The man at the bar didn't take his eyes off you and you felt uneasy, looking around for other patrons. You hadn’t noticed the bar emptying, leaving you two alone.
"You should think twice before calling someone a pendejo, cariño." His accent was thick and the words came out slow, calculated. It was clear he wasn't used to speaking English, but he knew it well enough to call you out.
The knife in your hand slipped and you would've cut your finger off if it wasn't so blunt. You threw your head up and stared at him, eyes getting wider by the second.
"Lo siento, fui grosera." You didn't want to piss the man off, he didn't look like someone who forgave easily.
"Lo sientes." His face changed a little as he nodded, a smile curving his lips. Somehow that genuine gesture that didn't reach his ice-cold eyes made you feel more in danger, and you tightened your grip on the knife in your hand. "Me vas a dar mi bebida? Or are you going to stab me?" He rolled the r's with his low voice as he slipped off the barstool and started to circle the bar, closing in on you.
"Señor, no puede volver aquí. Llamaré a seguridad si te acercas."
"Señor? Fear makes you polite, cariño."
You felt your fingers getting numb around the knife handle, but he just brushed everything off like it was nothing. His steps were slow, a predator cornering its prey.
"Llamaré a la seguridad." You repeated, hoping it would stop him. His face distorted into a terrifying semblance of cheerful laughter.
"This pocilga doesn't have security."
'Fuck' he was right, you knew that. You felt cold sweat trickling down your spine. Your step backwards, his step forwards, a strange dance with your life at stake. He grabbed the bottle of anise-flavored liqueur and took a big gulp. You decided to use the moment to run past him and as soon as he winced at the burn of the alcohol you made your move.
He must've read your thoughts because there was no other explanation for how his strong arms gripped you tight around your waist quicker than you made three steps to freedom. He squeezed you with the right arm, settling the bottle back on the bar. You tried to hit him, wriggling and doing everything in your power to get away, but he just pressed you to himself tighter, his scorching hot breath burning the skin of your jaw and ear as he growled in it.
"Leaving your client unsatisfied?"
"Let me go you fucking asshole." You showered him with hits, but he was unaffected, blocking your every thrust. You remembered the knife in your left hand but so did he, and before you were brave enough to take a swing at him, he had already squished your fingers so painfully you thought he might break them, making you let go of the weapon and taking it for himself.
In one quick move he turned you around, your head spinning from the movement, and pressed you to the bar table with his hips.
"What the fuck?" You couldn't believe it was happening to you. Not in the middle of the day. Someone would come in any second. But it wasn't your lucky day.
"Dijiste 'whatever you want, asshole'. I want you."
"Too bad I'm not on the fucking menu!" You started screaming and thrashing your body, but only felt him press harder, the unmistakable form of his hard cock making parts of your treacherous body throb.
"You are on mine. No te muevas, o empeorará." He hissed, slapping your ass with his wide palm, and you felt the painful sting even through the rough material of your mom jeans.
"Please," you felt tears of despair stinging the corners of your eyes. All your courage was gone now that you felt the obvious physical superiority of the man behind you.
"You beg prettily, cariño, but I've made my decision. Lo siento." He chuckled saying the last sentence and you felt your body going limp. "Now," he slid his left hand over the curves of your tank-top covered tits and you smelled the aroma of lime before the cold metal of the blade touched the hot skin of your throat. "This knife isn't here to scare you, cariño, it's just a reminder for you to behave."
The tears were running uncontrollably down your cheeks and you hated the heat gripping your body while your soul was in the cold clutches of anxiety. You felt his other hand travel around your waist and find the zipper of your jeans. You pressed your hips harder to the counter trying to trap his hand and not let him move further.
"Juegas con fuego, chica." He pressed the blade harder into your throat and you calmed your breathing and forced your body to relax. "That's a good girl. Behave and I'll even make you come." He gave another snicker and you felt a wave of nauseousness. His hand was rough and hot, quickly mapping your body, you felt him squeeze your left tit and tweak the nipple through the shirt, the little bud tightening from the long-forgotten attention. "Te deseo," his voice was strained and he licked the sweaty column of your neck before biting into it, simultaneously yanking off your jeans and making quick work of your simple cotton panties.
With a quick movement you were bent over the bar, your face landing in one of the many pools of liquid spilled over the day. You didn't even try to move when you felt one of his hands letting go of you to work on his own zipper. Instead, you closed your eyes, tears already drying and tightening your skin. You would be okay. You would always be okay.
"Cariño, oh but you're wet. Mi puta got excited?" His thick fingers slid through your damp folds and he swiped up and down with ease as if to prove his words to you rather than give you pleasure. Your breath caught when his fingers grazed over the swollen nub of your clit. "Right here, sí?" He didn't wait for you to answer, he just saw the way your back involuntarily arched. "Sí," he whispered to himself, calloused fingers drawing tight circles around your sensitive clit. You bit your lips with vigor, forbidding moans to escape the confines of your mouth, but he didn't need any confirmation of your pleasure, your weeping pussy was all he needed to feel.
Your body grew taught like a violin string that was tightened too far and was ready to snap, taking out the eye of the poor tuner. You felt the telltale tingles of the upcoming orgasm prickling your inner thighs. "Estás listo."
Before you could wonder what you were ready for, the massive stiffness of his cock was already stretching you past your limit. The pain ripped your climax away from you and you screamed in burning pain.
"No, por favor," you started shaking, earning yourself another knife cut on the tender skin of your throat.
"You get so wet when you're scared. See, you take me in like an experienced slut."
His hips swung in a rapid pace, when he filled you to the brink you felt the scratches of his opened zipper left on your asscheeks. His hand never left your clit, his touch almost painful on the raw skin, but against your will his expert movements went from pain to pleasure in an embarrassingly short time. You felt the veins of his cock with your overstimulated walls and let yourself believe that if this was a hook up you'd actually enjoy the man. Your trapped hands squeezed into tight fists, uncut nails leaving bloody crescents on your palms. You couldn't let yourself come. Not now. Your body was your enemy.
"Such a tight hole. Worth being called an asshole for." His breath was heavy and ragged, the angry caresses of his hand on your clit were relentless. "I'm going to come and if you don't want a round two you better come with me."
His movements began to falter and you didn't know what caused it - the fear or him hitting you repeatedly just right - but you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shuddering from the long-awaited orgasm and almost knocking you out.
You only felt that he was not pressing you into the bar when his come was drying on your puffy pussy, you stayed bent over the bar. He threw a bunch of bills on the table, some of them almost immediately soaking through with spilled alcohol.
"Keep the change."
———————————————
Aguardiente - In Colombia,it is an anise-flavored liqueur derived from sugar cane. Aguardiente has 24%–29% alcohol content.
solo - neat
Día malo? - Bad day?
pendejo - asshole
Lo siento, fui grosera - I’m sorry, I was rude
Me vas a dar mi bebida? - you’re going to give me my drink?
Señor, no puede volver aquí. Llamaré a seguridad si tú acercas - Sir, you can’t come in here. I’ll call the security if you step closer.
cariño - dear
pocilga - shithole
Dijiste - you said
No te muevas, o empeorará - don’t move, or it’s gonna get worse
Juegas con fuego, chica - you’re playing with fire, girl
Te deseo - I want you
Mi puta - my slut
sí - yes
Estas listo - you’re ready
Por favor - please
#serenaxpedro writes#comandante veracruz#veracruz#pedro pascal x reader#veracruz x reader#comandante veracruz x reader#dark fic#iamasaddie fic
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I’d suffer hell if you tell me what you'd do to me tonight
A/N: I am freakishly excited to be a part of a very special Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2023™ alongside with my amazing friends and creators! Be on the lookout for their posts in the coming week! Kisses and hugs to @atinylittlepain for this amazing header and to my favorite @wannab-urs for being an amazing and supportive beta!
Check out other creators’ works done specially for the PMAMC: Joel and Dio by @atinylittlepain ; Mando by @beskarandblasters ; Oberyn by @jksprincess10 ; Frankie and Max Phillips by @wannab-urs and Professor Ben by @cutesyscreenname !
Summary: You knew you could trust Joel with your life, knew he would never judge or betray you. But what if it came to a very particular want of yours? Would he be up for a night of new kind of fun?
Word count: 2,5k
Warnings: pegging, ball worship, oral (m receiving), brief mentions of alcohol
MY MASTERLIST
"Sweetheart, I don't think I can…"
"Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel."
"Baby, that's the only thing you do. You show it to me with your whole being. I love being inside you, your pussy around my cock is my favorite place on Earth."
"I know, Joel," you kissed his soft belly and it twitched under your lips, Joel was still on the fence with your suggestion. "But I promise I'll make you feel even better."
If someone had told you three months ago that you'd be laying in bed with Joel Miller and asking him to let you show him all the pleasures his male anatomy could bring, you'd think the person'd gone mad. Yet here you were, sprawled on top of the body of the man you loved, covered in sweat, your thighs still glistening from the orgasms he gave you no less than fifteen minutes ago. You had always known he had a nice ass and a wild desire burned in you to explore this part of him, but you never knew how to ask about it. Today, after a couple of glasses of wine had led into messy kisses and you found your favorite seat on his face, you felt courage flowing through your veins and finally told him about your particular wish.
When he just stared at you, mouth wide open, you already counted it as a win. At least he didn't call you a fucking pervert and leave you to wallow in self deprecation.
"Nothing is better than your pussy, darlin'." You knew that his words were genuine. The man was obsessed with your pussy, sometimes forgetting his own painfully erect cock just to play and lick you for another hour. But you felt his walls cracking, so you continued to push, sealing your words with licks and kisses.
"Don't you trust me?"
You lowered enough so that his clearly interested cock was level with your greedy mouth and licked a long wet stripe from his heavy balls to the leaking tip of his shaft. Joel groaned and threw his head back, the graying curls at his temples already darkened from sweat.
"You’re playing dirty." He thought about putting his hand on your head, but opted for squeezing the sheets when you dove lower and alternated licking and kissing his balls. You loved the musky smell that completely engulfed you and the slightly salty taste on your tongue. You turned your head and bit his left thigh gently, his skin radiated hotness and you felt it seep into you.
"You know that's the only way I play."
His eyes were covered with a veil of desire, black pupils almost swallowed up the entire iris behind half-closed eyelids. You were familiar enough with his body to know which buttons to push, which levers to pull. You wanted him to feel all the love you felt for him in the form of simple primal pleasure. Without thinking twice, you returned to caressing his leaking cock.
As soon as the heat of your mouth swallowed his swollen head, something like a growl escaped from Joel's throat. You knew how long he could last and in order for everything to happen perfectly, you had to bring him to the absolute edge. Your caresses were painfully slow, your movements thoughtful and unhurried. Inch by inch, you swallowed his cock, gently stroking what did not fit in your mouth, watching his every movement, listening to every downed sigh.
Your hand gradually descended to his drawn tight balls, they were large and barely fit in your palm. Without stopping the rhythmic movements of your head, you began to roll Joel's balls in your hands, occasionally pulling slightly and ripping prayer-like moans from him.
His precum almost flooded your mouth, the tangy taste a delicious delicacy on your tongue. You wanted to push him to the end, wanted to feel his hot cum running down your throat, but that would put an end to what you’d wanted for too long.
With a final dip of your tongue in the slit of his cock you let the shaft out of your mouth with a wet pop, making the man in front of you whine as the air of the room hit his heated flesh.
He didn't look at you, his eyes shut tight, face almost pain stained. But you knew that wasn't pain, that was desperate desire.
You traced a path of wet kisses from the tip to the base of his cock, paying all your attention to his heavy balls, enjoying the feeling of hot and soft skin under your lips and reveling in every sound coming from Joel. When that note - the subtle sound informing you he was about to tip over the edge - reached your ears, you finally pulled away, enjoying the symphony of his broken breathing while you reached for the lubricant hidden in the bedside cabinet and hastily warmed it up in your sweaty palms.
You kissed Joel's trembling belly for the last time and brought your slippery fingers to his tight hole, teasing the skin there with light movements. His eyes were still squeezed shut, you could see beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
"So, do you trust me, Joel?"
"Yeah, yeah, okay, baby. I trust you." He nodded without opening his eyes and without taking his head off the pillow.
With a careful movement, you entered his tight hole with your finger, feeling his muscles contract. You knew that in order for everything to go well, Joel needed to relax.
"How is it? Are you okay?"
You heard a soft moan from his side, but the man himself did not utter a word. You stopped the light movements of your finger, staying deep in the heat of your lover. "Love, I need you to talk to me. We can stop if it makes you uncomfortable." You tried to make your voice sound as soothing as you could, trying not to give off the intense arousal that's been burning in your blood since the moment you put your dainty finger inside his tight entrance. You wanted this more than anything, but you would stop in a blink of an eye and never bring it up again if that made Joel feel bad.
"No," he whispered, "it's… new, but it's not bad. I think we can do more than that."
"More? Do you mean - -" You've curled your finger a little to the side and your question was interrupted by an almost deafening moan as Joel snapped his eyes open.
"What the - -" his breathing was labored as he tried to compose himself. "What was that? What did you.."
There it was, you smiled to yourself. That magic button that promised the most delicious pleasure your man could feel.
"Does it feel good?" You curled your finger once again and started pushing on that spot inside of him, as Joel continued to whine.
"Fuck... Fuck baby, that's so…"
"I know, love. Do you think you could take another?" Your finger was easily sliding in and out of Joel and you knew he was too distracted with pleasure, but you still wanted to talk him through it. He nodded, and you slipped another finger, stretching him wider and aiming to his pleasure spot again and again.
Joel looked absolutely sinful, and you hurried to tell him that, placing wet kisses on his sweaty skin as far as you could reach without stopping your ministrations.
"You look so beautiful, Joel."
And he did. His skin was glistening with sweat, large droplets covering his chest and forehead. He looked ethereal in the low light of your bedroom. His soaked hair stuck to his face, eyes glazed with pure desire and want. That was the first time you saw him biting his lips, making them puffy and red and you wanted to soothe the little tears left by his teeth with your tongue. You could do that later.
You scissored your fingers, his ring of muscles giving more easily, and wet your lips. "I think you're ready."
He lifted his head off the pillow as you slid your sleek fingers out of him. "I am?" There was doubt in his voice, but not a trace of fear.
"Are you?" You raised your eyebrows and put a warm palm on his lower belly, grounding him, giving him comfort.
"I am." He nodded dumbly, and threw his head back. "I am."
Again you reached into the bedside cabinet, this time taking out the least intimidating-looking harness and a strap that was the most natural-looking. It wasn't the biggest one in your arsenal, but you weren't going to traumatize Joel either mentally or physically, and this one was perfect for a start. Maybe someday he would want to try something bigger, but for now you enjoyed what he gave you.
Joel watched your movements with alertness while you fastened the right straps and put everything in the right places. The question was in his eyes and he finally plucked up the courage to voice it.
"Can I ask you why you have it?"
You smirked, of course he wanted to know. Why does a girl who rides his dick every day have a need for her own. "You can, but it's a story for another time, I don't want you to get distracted."
As soon as the last fastener was tightened, you returned to Joel, slowly moving on your knees and stroking his calves covered with soft hairs.
"Can you turn around for me, baby?" You've never called him that before, it was either 'love' or 'Joel'. 'Daddy' or 'Sir' when you were in the heat of the moment. Joel's eyes crinkled at the endearment and you decided to push a little bit further, "I can't wait to fully appreciate you. You know, you have the most gorgeous ass I've ever seen." The man's cheeks flushed from praise and he slowly turned around in the position.
Your mouth salivated at the sight of your man - broad shoulders and tensed back - in such a vulnerable position in front of you. His thighs were thick, little black hair disappearing as your eyes trailed their way up to the perfect softness of his butt. You wanted to slap it, but you stopped yourself knowing that he was not ready for any of that. Instead, you leaned in gently caressing his cheeks that were paler than the rest of his body. Joel tensed under you and you let yourself place a kiss on his lower back, whispering loving nonsense.
"I love you, baby. You're so beautiful." Joel seemed to relax under your hands massaging his asscheeks. You loved the feeling of them in your hand, too big for you to grasp all of them at once, meaty and delicious. "You're ready for me?" You traced the tip of the dildo through his crease and stopped in the middle.
"Ye- - Yeah... Just," the man turned his head a little, but didn't find the courage to face you. "Just go slow, please."
"Of course, baby. We'll take it real slow, just relax for me, okay?"
"Okay."
With a soft movement you entered Joel, unable to tear your eyes from his hole stretching over the fake cock. It was one of the most sexual things you've ever seen, both the sight of him on your cock and the trust he put into you making you drip with arousal. You stilled, watching the muscles of his back tense along with his asscheeks. You circled his waist and traced your hands lower, finding his cock and caressing it with loving movements.
Joel seemed to relax more, distracted by your thumb circling the wet tip of his dick and the perfect pressure you gave to his still hard shaft.
"Are you okay, baby?" Once you started calling him 'baby' you couldn't seem to stop, the simple endearment dripping from your tongue like arousal dripped from your pussy.
"Yes," he grunted, "you can move."
"Thank you, love. You're doing so good." You leaned in, the movement making the dildo slip even further, punching the pleasure out of Joel, and placed a kiss on his sweaty back.
One of your hands continued stroking his cock as your hips continued to gently slap against his perfect ass. You put your other hand on his asscheek and squeezed the plush thing with your greedy fingers. You could never get enough of him, but now you knew you were addicted like the worst, most desperate junkie.
He looked like the most desirable vice under you, your every movement giving him more and more pleasure, completely erasing all the tension.
You thought you'd both cry and cum when you saw the moment he let go. With a particularly hard thrust accompanied by a tight squeeze of your fist he threw his head back, a guttural moan on the verge of screaming leaving his chest. Joel blessed your ears with moans and as you whispered filthy praise in the sweat-stained air of your bedroom, he started pushing his ass back to meet your hips.
"I'm - -" His voice was hoarse and dry, but you didn't need to hear the end of the sentence to know what he was about to say.
You felt a different kind of tension binding his body, his breathing erratic, his moans obscene in the most holy way.
"I know, baby. Let go. Cum for me."
You sped up your movements violently hitting the most sensitive spot inside Joel, the hand that was fisting his cock was completely covered in his precum and you knew that in a couple of moments it'd be covered in his hot release.
"I love you. I love you so much. Thank you, Joel." You continued your love mantra, showering him with all the love and affection your sex-clogged brain was capable of.
With one last push of your hips Joel cried out and you felt his sticky cum covering your fingers. You continued stroking his cock, but your hips stopped as you let him ride out one of the most intense orgasms of his life. His whimpers were your own siren's call and you wanted to engrave them in your brain forever. Soon his cries transformed into whispered whines and you took your hand away so as to not overstimulate his exhausted body. You slowly pulled out of him, his hiss was muffled when he fell face first on the pillow, his heavy breathing more than obvious with the rise and fall of his back.
You brought your cum stained hand to your face, making sure he heard your moans as you licked his release off. "You are delicious."
His whine was pathetic in the most attractive of ways. He turned his head and found your eyes as you were unstrapping. Joel nodded to the strap glistening with lube.
"So are you going to tell me why you have it now?"
#Joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#serenaxpedro writes#iamasaddie fic
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movie night
paring: Joel Miller x gn!reader
rating: gen
word count: 560
masterlist
You know when work’s been hard on him. You see it in all the little details he thinks you won't notice. You see it in the way he gradually stays in bed for five minutes longer, until he literally has to jump out of bed and into his car, foregoing breakfast. The way his goodbye kisses seem to be more desperate, like he’s searching for energy and life between your lips and on your tongue. And how his shoulders are more and more slouched every day. He becomes more silent, his presence in your life reduced to lung-crushing hugs as you quietly slip into bed. The rustling of plain satin sheets and the flickering light at the bedside table are the only sounds in the room. He looks at the small lamp tiredly, and before he makes another promise to fix it, you switch it off and press his hand tighter around your chest. You know he'll fix it, like he fixed everything that was wrong in your life, but now it's not important, not when his thoughts are heavier than his deep and almost deafening breathing.
On these kinds of weeks, Fridays are the worst; they lay the heaviest on his shoulders, almost making his knees give out as he reaches the couch and crushes down, practically drowning between the cushions and rubbing his eyes.
“I’m so glad this goddamn week is over.” He groans, and it's almost unintelligible with the way his hand is pressed to his face.
You nudge your feet under his thigh and wiggle your toes, humming in agreement. You didn’t know what mood he’d be in tonight, so you went with the safe option of putting on his favorite movie and trying your best not to overcook the sauce for pasta. When the intro song starts playing, he jumps a little and looks at the screen and then at you as if he'd seen a ghost.
“No way.” You just smile mischievously and nod a little. “You said you hated blockbusters.”
“I decided that I’m going to give it a shot. If you love it, it must be good.”
His eyes become softer. There is a glint of doubt in the irises that look black in the low lighting of the room. “Why d’you think that?”
“Because you love me,” you crawl closer to him, your noses almost touching, “and I’m fantastic.”
His smile is radiant, and even though his tired eyes look ten years older than his age, they smile along with his lips. Joel slowly caresses your nose with a tip of his before giving you a little peck on the bridge.
“Yeah, that you are.”
It's warm and safe in his arms, and his smell lulls you to sleep faster than the mumbling of the old TV. You know he won't be sad that you missed that scene he’s been buzzing about, but you still decide to watch the film again when you're more awake. He steals glances at you, noticing how lights play on your calm face, and feels the weight slowly lifted off his shoulders, brick by brick. With every puff of breath you exhale into his chest, Joel feels lighter. He tugs you in closer and thinks that he's ready to endure his toughest week for the rest of his life if that meant coming home to you.
#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x gender neutral reader#joel miller#tlou fanfiction#tlou#serenaxpedro gif#serenaxpedro writes#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#iamasaddie fic
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and if Saturday don't come soon, I'm gonna lose my mind - Joel Miller x F!Reader
a/n: hey, this is my first ever character x reader pic, as well as my first tlou fic. No idea why, it just poured out of me and here it is. I wanted to immediately dive into nsfw section, but decided to taste the waters with a fluffy coffee ficlet. If it’s any good, I have a few more things in the process that are with higher rating. Hope you can enjoy this little coffee induced outburst <3
songs I listened to: ‘Saturday’ by Sam Fender (name for the pic came straight from this song), ‘1957′ by Milo Greene, ‘Fear’ by Current Joys, ‘Coffee’ by beabadoobee, ‘Top Of The World’ by Carpenters
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n; soft!Joel (kind of? for now?); un beta-ed and I’m not a native English speaker so sorry in advance for any mistakes!
word count: 1,5k~
MY MASTERLIST
You lived from Saturday to Saturday, and if anyone asked why, they'd catch you dead silent. There was a secret that lay deep in the flimsy kitchen cupboard of your tiny house, hidden by rows of canned beans and ravioli with a fake chef on their label. And every Saturday, you checked that the door of your house was locked and the curtains were closed before sliding your hand to the back of the shelf and tugging out a bag of mediocre coffee that made your heart race with excitement.
‘What a dumb thing to hide’, might've said anyone who was not appreciative of the dark, bitter liquid that burned your throat and stayed on your tongue after the last sip, but you wouldn't ask for understanding. No, you didn't need people wanting what's yours, and that's why, when you rummaged through the raider's bag on patrol three weeks ago and discovered your treasure, you sneakily shoved it in your backpack, not saying a word about your find to your patrol partners.
A good part of you sang that you should've said something, shared a cup with people who took you in and gave you a roof over your head. But the little devil on your shoulder was louder, and his whispers were quite reasonable. After all, there was not enough to give to everyone, and picking favorites in a commune was worse than not sharing. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, right?
That lucky day, when you finally closed the squeaky door of your hopefully forever home, the first thing you wanted to do was make yourself the biggest cup of coffee you could find and probably die of a heart attack, since you hadn't had the luck to drink your drug for at least two years up until that point.
The rational part won again. When you looked at the package that lay under the flashlight, a couple of time-beaten flannel shirts, and your spare gun, you sighed: it was much smaller than what it’d looked like at first, and if you wanted it to last, you had to pace yourself. That was how you thought of a schedule and Saturdays were the perfect choice.
It was your only day off, and you tended to spend it inside, staying in bed until your bladder threatened to burst, and then spent the day reading or walking around Jackson (if the weather was to your liking). Adding coffee as a new routine would only make the day better, and you couldn't contain the squeal of excitement, something close to happiness was bubbling in your stomach.
Two weeks and two unforgettable cups of coffee later, you’ve found yourself excited about your new routine. That secret that you kept didn't bring shame to your cheeks; instead, every Friday evening at dinner in the canteen, you were buzzing with anticipation.
Another day X woke you up with bright sun burning off your eyelids with its persistent light. You dragged yourself out of bed, forgoing making it and skipping two steps on your way to the kitchen. You loved this new ritual: getting out of bed, tugging on your warmest socks, checking the door and the windows that you know you’d tightly shut the night before, and heating some water for the coffee. While the water was boiling, you grabbed the needed amount of beans and ground them into a brown powder with a lousy parody of mortar that you've made yourself. Pouring the hot liquid in your mug and letting it sit for five minutes was your favorite part.
Only three minutes had passed when you heard a heavy knock on the door. Not the one that said 'hey, can you lend me some sugar’. That one was ‘you either open up or I’m breaking this thing in'. You jumped to your feet, sliding over the hardwood floor, and tried swinging the door open. It took you a minute, since the fucking thing not only creaked but also started to jam, needing a firm push before it gave in.
"You stupid fucking piece of rotten wood, I swear to God...'' Your angry muttering was interrupted when a hand from the outside gave a harder push and a door swung open, almost kicking you in the face and revealing the person behind it.
"Mornin’."
There was a man in front of you, towering over your frame and hiding you from the November sun with broad denim-clad shoulders. You knew him — of course, you knew him — but he was the last person you’d expected to see on your porch.
"Hi, Joel. Can I help you?"
You wouldn't call him a friend; it was hard to even give him the acquaintance badge, but you were familiar with each other, nodding when you saw the other passing in the street, and a couple of times you were even in the same patrol group. But nothing besides that. He was just another face in the town you've grown to love.
"Uh," he scratched his beard; it was patchy, and the brown color bled out in some parts, with grey spreading from the sides of his jaw instead. "Actually, I’m here to help you."
"I’m sorry?" Well, that was new. You tried to remember if you'd asked anyone to help you with anything, but nothing came to mind. You were mostly capable of handling your business yourself.
"I'm here to fix ya door." As if to prove himself, he slammed his palm over the wooden panel, which made a pathetic sound.
Nothing made sense, and you brought your hand behind your back to pinch your thigh covered in thin cotton sleeping pants. Even when the sharp sting made your brows knit together, you were half-sure it was all a dream. That weird one, where cows were flying, the sky was beneath your feet, and handsome almost-strangers came to fix your door without you asking them.
"But why?"
Joel rubbed his right palm over his forehead, and you noticed a toolbox in his left hand. "Tommy told me that the door squeaking and slamming is waking the baby, and that I need to start giving back to the community."
"Oh," embarrassment reddened your ears. You didn't know the undying fight with your door was so disturbing to your neighbors; otherwise, you'd fix it. You wanted to fix it anyway, but it never made the top of your priorities. "I didn't know. He never told me anything."
"Yeah, I think it's more about me giving back and not...–"
He leaned in, his head already in your house, while his body was mostly still on your porch. You raised your brows at his sudden silence.
"What’s that smell?" Joel's nostrils flared, like he was trying to suck in more air than was necessary for breathing. Your heart skipped a beat, realizing that the smell of your freshly brewed coffee was much stronger and now was traveling into your hall and punching right into Joel's nose, like in those silly cartoons with a duck and a talking dog that kids watch on Sunday mornings.
"What smell? I don’t smell anything."
You knew it was unlikely that he'd just shrug his broad shoulders and drop it, but you still took your shot at playing dumb. There was curiosity in Joel’s eyes, making him drop at least fifteen years off his shoulders. It was a new look for him, and as far as you knew, there was next to nothing that could make the man's face light up. Except, maybe, for the girl he came into town with. You'd see them sharing a dinner from time to time, and then she'd say something – you couldn't hear her; you were never close enough to actually catch her jokes – and he’d fight as hard as he could to suppress the laughter spilling out of him, usually shaking his head and trying to hide the curve of his lips behind a large palm.
"It smells like… Wait a minute," he shoved you to the side, sliding past your body like he owned the place, and heading straight to your tiny kitchen, where a steaming cup of coffee hypnotized him into inaction. "No fucking way. Where the fuck did you get that?"
You shut the door as fast as you could, striding over to him, and a part of you marveled at his face. It was like he saw Jesus walking towards him and erasing all the pain and tortures the world has brought upon his existence. 'Guess he likes coffee then’, you thought, watching as he closed his mouth in almost a fish-like motion. His eyes were fixed on your mug, scratched and a little chipped white ceramics that felt more precious than the Holy Grail.
"I… Can you not tell anyone?"
He grabbed your drink, bringing it closer to his nose, and inhaled deeply. You knew you'd have to pay for his silence, and seeing how hard his grip on your mug was, you knew exactly what to offer.
"I’ll share with you."
"Darlin’," Joel's face lit up, and you swore you'd never found him more attractive than at that moment when he gave you his first smile. "For a cup of coffee, I promise to forget how to talk."
That’s how your secret Saturday coffee became a party for two.
#Joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x you#no use of y/n#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#serenaxpedro writes#iamasaddie fic
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not above having to beg
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: explicit
warnings: thigh grinding, erotic humiliation, daddy kink, dom!Joel/sub!reader, no use of Y/N
word count: 358
masterlist
"Come here, baby. I need to ask you something."
He patted his spread thighs, showing you exactly where he wanted you. He was still wearing that ridiculous fur coat — something his friends thought was a perfect prank present — on top of his white wife-beater. His voice was calm, but his gaze was heavy.
You scurried towards him and straddled one of his thick thighs. Simple panties under your skirt undeniably left a wet stain on his jeans; you’ve been dripping all day.
"Darlin', can you tell me why you've been actin’ out like that?"
As soon as you straddled his thigh, facing him, his large palms came to rest on your hips. At first he squeezed gently, but in mere moments the pressure became painful, bruises already blooming under his fingertips as he spat. "Why have you been such a pathetic little whiny slut?"
He brought his mouth towards your shoulder and left a temporary purple tattoo of his teeth on your delicate skin as his voice became more and more cruel. "You been makin’ Daddy real angry. Do you know what happens when Daddy’s angry, sweetheart?"
You could only let out a little whine, pressing your aching pussy harder into his thigh in a pathetic attempt to get off.
"Stop fuckin’ ruining my pants with your dirty pussy when I’m talking to you." He slapped your thigh, and you stilled. "Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of you in the evening?"
You just nodded and earned yourself another burning slap. "Answer me."
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Didn’t I promise that I’d make you cum as many times as your beautiful little body can manage?"
"Yes, daddy."
"And you still had to grind yourself on me in front of all of those people? Tried to embarrass me in front of my friends?"
"I’m sorry, Daddy."
You were on the verge of tears, shame engulfing your body as you lowered your head.
"You know what comes next, don’t you? baby?" You just nodded again, but this time he didn’t make you answer aloud. "Go to my room, strip, and kneel. And don’t you dare touch your pussy."
#joel miller x reader#serenaxpedro writes#tlou fanfiction#tlou x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#iamasaddie fic
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a/n: hey! I’ve started my first nsfw work in the tlou-verse and I’m excited to share a little sneak-peak of it to see the reaction and how it’s received in general <3
summary: You never believed in being lucky, no one who’d lived in this royally fucked world for more than a day could, but getting stuck in a cabin on patrol with a man you’ve been eyeing for the last three months might be all that it’s take for you to change your mind.
warnings (future): NSFW, 18+ ONLY pls (control your experience online, I’m not here to do that); no use of Y/N; big age gap (reader is in her mid to late 20s, Joel is 50); explicit sexual content; dirty talk; fingering; unprotected PiV (wrap it before you tap it); cum eating; Joel is a boobs man.
a lot can change in twenty seconds, a lot can happen in the dark
"No," he said, his big palms heavy on your upper thighs as he tried to move you from his lap and got a tiny exasperated sigh in return.
"Why not?" You knew this had nothing to do with his desire towards you, felt him swell against your ass cheek as soon as you'd thrown one of your legs over both of his and planted yourself square on his groin.
"You're too young and too pretty for my own good." Joel gave you a smile, the one that said 'if only you were ten years older and me ten years younger and the world didn't rip our souls and bodies to shreds…'. "There is no way this won't end up fucked."
"Why do you think about the future so much?" You curled your legs under you, not minding the dirt on the soles of your kicks. You'd always wanted to ask him that, the first impression of the man you'd gotten was that he almost never talked in present tense. All the 'tomorrow on patrol we…' and 'tonight after dusk I…' and the constant 'when Ellie's older…'. Like the man was scared of today, of now. Present caught him unguarded like a deer in the headlights. Joel wasn’t good without a plan, that you figured out for sure.
"What else do I have to think about? My past wasn't a forth of July's firework, and my present is filled with infected and assholes."
You lightly nudged his knee with your foot, not really sure what was so special about fireworks on the forth of July but not wanting to stick on that. "Present company excluded."
"Present company excluded," he repeated after you and chuckled.
"But, honestly, why do you care? For all we know anything could happen tomorrow. I could get killed by assholes, you could get infected."
"You won't die." He said it too fast and too harsh, as if he'd thought about it too many times before and his answer was ready even before you finished your sentence. Joel gave himself a second to breathe out before continuing. "And I... I'd love to do one good thing before I kick the bucket."
"And doing me is not good?"
He shook his head, face both amused and exhausted like after talking to a toddler about why sky is blue for five hours straight just to hear them ask 'so why's it blue?'
"Doing you…" His laughter was raspy and you felt your lips stretching as you smiled at him. "Doing you is good for this," Joel put his palm on his groin, right where his cock was half-ready from the beginning of this conversation. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your smile merging with a needy expression in a weird dance and you couldn't take your eyes off his thick fingers laying where you wanted your mouth to be. "But it's not good for this," he placed the same hand on his chest, where his heart was screaming ‘to hell with it all’ and ‘give in’ in unsteady rapid beats. "Or this," Joel tapped his finger on his temple, the only thing keeping him rational was his learned habit of staying cool under pressure.
#Joel miller x reader#Joel miller#tlou fanfiction#tlou#pedro pascal x reader#serenaxpedro writes#joel miller x you
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