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mando-abs · 5 hours

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If you’re taking those as prompts, ❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜ with Din perhaps?

LOVE IS A FIRE THAT BURNS UNSEEN

a/n: so i took forever on this, because i kind of fell out of writing for din for...well....awhile. i can tell you this sat in my wips folder half finished for months. honestly i was wondering if it would even get finished. but i was re-watching mando last night and decided why the fuck not. i can't remember which prompt list this was from because it's been so long, but that's okay. this is not beta read or edited, but we live and die by the pen.

summary: on your list of things that could possibly happen while bounty hunting with din, dying from hypothermia wasn't included. nor was finally admitting the truth to yourself about your feelings.

word count: 3.1k+

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, near death experience, angst, feelings being admitted sort of, p in v sex, a hint of choking, they're so in love it's sickening.

It’s fucking cold in the Razor Crest as you sit in the cockpit waiting for his return. You’re bundled in a jacket that has seen better days, but even with the extra layers you swear you’ll freeze to death before he comes back. Tempted to turn the ship back on in order to get some heat—you do the most to distract yourself from the frost currently eating away at the skin of your face. Din’s instructions were clear. Keep the ship hidden until he comes back with the bounty, which would be simple enough.

That is if the bounty he was currently hunting resided on a planet with a temperature that wouldn’t kill you from exposure. Everything had been fine two hours ago. You were working on repairing an old comlink as he tracked the bounty through space, having caught their signal on the outer edges of the galaxy. Except then…they were attacked. Neither of you could see who caused it or even why, but suddenly a lone ship was heading into the atmosphere on the one planet you always said you’d rather die than visit.

Hoth—a frozen pit that once housed the Rebellion of all places.

So, there you were. Shivering to gain some warmth as you scanned the area for Din’s signal. If the ship was right, he still remained alive. You only wished you could say the same for yourself by the time he came back.

The cold had begun to seep into your layers, hitting your chest directly and causing you to cough harshly. If he didn’t return within the hour he would find you dead due to hypothermia. Except that’s not what scared you. It was the fact that he would be the one to find you—a man who showed absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

You weren’t sure when the crush started or even why, but you do know the realization hit you harder than a speeder-bike going at full speed one day while you were sitting beside him in the cockpit. He laughed at something you said, the chuckle low and slightly clipped due to his modulator and that’s what did it. What had you sitting there in shock—eyes wide—as it suddenly dawned on you that…you liked him. A lot more than you would have ever thought before.

“Maker fucking above,” you muttered, your teeth chattering with the words. “Hurry up, bucket head.”

Vaguely you recalled some survival tips from your time as a teenager on Bracca working as a scrapper. Never touch live wires, always look out for yourself, and when stuck in freezing temperatures—layers become your best friend. So, you stumbled out of the cockpit chair and towards the ladder that would lead you to the rest of his ship. Slow small steps were all you could manage as your body went into overdrive to try and keep you warm. Except the ship acted as an icebox rather than a heater.

You could lock yourself in his small cot, burrowing under the blankets he’d bought because of you complaining there wasn’t enough on the ship. But you’d first have to get there. It was a struggle to even climb down the ladder—your breath coming in gasps as your lungs fought against the freezing air. How long had you been sitting up there? You held no answer to the question, because the results were clear to you now; you were up there long enough to lead you right to death’s doorstep.

Dragging yourself along the side of the ship wall, you flinched as the cold metal touched your cheek. You should have gone against his orders and simply turned the ship back on. It would keep you from this—currently fighting against hypothermia as Din took his sweet time coming back.

The sound of the airlock on the door releasing when it opened brought a small flicker of hope to life, burning bright in your chest. But it faded just as quickly as it came. You caught sight of him dragging a half dead bounty up the ramp—his helmet turned towards you—before you collapsed to the ground. Your body shivering in a final attempt to generate enough body heat in order to keep you alive.

His voice calling your name echoed in the back of your mind as you drifted off—the concept of sleep far more enticing than it should be.

Steady breaths against your bare back was what you woke up—your mind drifting slowly back to reality. Or at least what you thought to be reality. The last thing you could recall was seeing Din’s helmet as your body did what it could to survive. How you ended up in the darkness of his cot, pressed against someone you assumed to be him…naked, was a mystery to you. Perhaps you were still dreaming. This must be how your mind envisioned some form of peace to ease your soul into an afterlife.

“You’re awake.” His voice caught you off guard—the breath in your throat catching.

“How…”

The shift of his body created a low burn of heat to appear at the bottom of your stomach as his arm tightened around your waist—drawing you closer. “You almost stopped breathing when I got back. Your body went into shock from the cold.”

“I was dying,” you said softly, the realization far less jarring than waking beside him in the nude.

He hummed, the low pitch a vibration you felt along your back. “I had to get you warm.”

“So you took off my clothes?” you asked, the smile prominent in your tone.

“Generating enough body heat only works when—”

“Both of us are naked.”

His fingers gripped onto the soft skin of your belly. “Yes,” he replied—voice slightly strained.

Somehow it never registered that he was actually sans armor and clothing until you felt his hand glide further up. The soft skin of his palm turned the spark into a fully formed flame that traveled its way through your body. He was laying beside you…naked. If you concentrated hard enough, you could feel the rise and fall of his stomach against your lower back—his skin soft there too.

Any other time your brain would have short circuited, but the sluggishness from sleep had yet to wear off. It made you rather docile—something you felt oddly grateful for. You were entirely aware, fully conscious of your words and decisions, but the tranquility in your body seemingly spurred you forward. No other time would you be this centered—this sure of yourself—and maybe that’s where you made the mistake, because this was dangerous. Revealing the feelings you’d harbored for months was like poison to your heart…positively lethal.

“Din,” you murmured, the soft heat coming from his body now spreading into yours.

If you knew you’d end up like this after one visit to Hoth, you would have come here a lot sooner.

“Yes?” Even his breath was warm as it brushed across the bare skin of your shoulder. Maker you were close in his bed that was barely big enough for him, let alone you beside him.

“I—” The words caught in the base of your throat, lodging themselves there like a stone you couldn’t swallow. You wanted to say it. Get everything out into the open and be done with it, but your mind seemed to be slowly coming to its senses.

“What is it?”

Closing your eyes, you let out a shuddered breath in the hopes that it would push down the erratic nerves which jumped under your skin. If you chickened out now, you’d never say the words. They’d be your secret—forever trapped in the cage of your heart until it was far too late to confess them. What’s funny is that they seemed like such easy things to say. How hard was it really to say I love you? How much effort did it take? Only you now realized it took a lot more than you expected.

It was far easier to die than to admit your feelings.

“I have to tell you something and I just—” Inhaling, you curled your hand around the blanket beneath you. “I don’t want you to look at me differently if things don’t turn out the way I hope.”

His thumb rubbed a soothing circle against your hip. “I won’t.”

You scoffed. “You probably will.”

The subtle shift of his body against yours caused flutters to go through your heart—rendering you speechless for a moment. He was so close it was maddening. If you had the courage you’d turn around, press yourself to him, and whisper the words against his lips. But you were practically stone, unable to even turn your head slightly to feel the press of his lips against your neck.

“For a while now I’ve felt…well…my feelings towards you have changed.” You blurted them out, hoping it was like ripping off a bandaid. Except the silence of his response hurt more than you expected.

Until—

“I know,” he said, his hand pressing a bit harder on your hip.

Nothing could have prepared you for the shockwave that went through your body. “You know?” you exclaimed.

“I’ve known since our trip to Coruscant.”

You paused, trying to form something to say, but all you could come up with was: “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Why had he let you think he held no feelings towards you? That you were alone in this. You felt him stiffen behind you, his hand pulling away slightly and your heart sank in your chest. Perhaps you had asked the wrong question. Or even touched on a part of this he didn’t want you to see. But you had to know the truth. You knew why you waited—why you couldn’t get the words out for the life of you—but why had he?

That is until he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly, jolting you back towards his body. A soft yelp left you as you tried to refocus yourself in the pitch black space. Except then you felt it. Pressing hard and insistent against your lower back—a part of Din you had only ever imagined, but never seen.

He grunted, his hand splaying across your stomach as you shifted against him. “Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”

You gasped. “Din—”

“What you’ve been doing?

His hips canted downwards, grinding against you and sending heat sparking up your spine. Enough to combat the cold that still remained in you, but you wanted more. You craved it. Moaning softly, you pushed back against him, pressing your thighs together to hopefully appease the growing ache that formed. Except he was one step ahead of you. Shoving his bare thigh between your legs, he pressed it upwards, grinning at the way your head fell back against his chest—a guttural moan leaving your lips.

“Every day is fucking torture,” he rasped, his hand sliding even lower until his fingers were hovering right above where you needed him most. “Because I can’t touch you.” His lips pressed against the curve of your jaw. “Because I can’t kiss you…”

“Maker,” you gasped, reaching down to wrap your hand around his wrist. “I-I want you to touch me. Want you to kiss me.”

His fingers dipped down even lower, finally parting your folds. A ragged groan was pressed to your jaw, his teeth scraping down against the skin when he found you wet and dripping for him. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. How it was erratic and almost as quick as yours. He was just as nervous as you were—if not more so, because of his creed.

He wanted you to be his, to love him as he was with his creed, but he was scared that this wasn’t permanent. You wanted to show him the inner workings of your mind, the makeup of your heart—how he was seared into it. He was ingrained so deep into your soul that you couldn’t even fathom the thought of being parted from him.

“Are you always this wet for me?” he asked, disbelief clear in his tone.

Nodding, you felt another moan begin to form, only for it to die as he pulled his fingers away. “No—”

“Shh,” he breathed, cupping your jaw as he moved even closer. “I’ll take care of you.”

Heat flooded your stomach, a whine forming in your throat as he pulled you back, the head of his cock now nudging against your entrance. You dug your nails into his forearm, your lips parting to form around his name. A ragged moan echoing in his small quarters, and he began to push forward. Sliding into you slowly as you fought to keep yourself quiet.

“So fucking tight,” he hissed, wrapping his arm around your torso and thrusting into you completely, his hips pressing against your ass. “Won’t last—”

You keened when his hand fell to your clit, circling it with enough pressure to send jolts up your spine. For a moment he simply held himself there. Encompassed in your heat as he worked you over, building your release steadily until you were pressing into him. Your hips rolling against his fingers—fucking yourself on his cock. Soft moans were pressed to your skin, the stubble on his jaw scratching along your shoulder, and that only heightened everything.

For the first time…he was entirely yours. Bare and open as he indulged in something both of you had held back from doing for so long.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you turned your head and caught the corner of his lips in a kiss. Something so tender yet so powerful. It nearly sent you over the edge and you felt Din’s surprise at the action. How his body jolted, his hips nudging forward and fingers stuttering in their motions. Even though he had proudly claimed he wanted to kiss you, to finally feel your lips against his. He had never expected it to come true.

“Cyar'ika,” he breathed.

“I want…” You gasped, hips rolling against his fingers in quick movements as that blinding feeling continued to overtake you. “Kiss me Din. Please, please—”

His mouth found yours in the darkness of his cabin, and you felt your heart scream out. Felt your entire body give into him, his name, his signet forever carved into your heart. He was your future and he knew it. Which is why he kissed you with a fervor that you believed only existed in your dreams—a passion that you felt right down to your toes. His tongue slid along yours, tasting the shitty caf you had earlier—the desperation on your tastebuds.

“Ah…” You tried to form the words on your tongue. The feelings that were trapped in your heart, but they refused to be let loose.

“I know you want to cum,” he breathed, fingers speeding up as your walls began to flutter around his cock. His other hand shifted, wrapping gently around your throat to keep your face close to his. Pressing down lightly as you gasped. “Let me feel it.”

A keening broken moan of his name ripped from you, hands scrabbling to grasp for something, settling for his arm that kept you pressed against him. White flashed behind your closed eyes, his lips swallowing every sound you made as you writhed against him. Gushing around his cock.

You didn’t hear the hoarse shout that he pressed into your mouth, his hips thrusting into you quickly as he followed you off the edge. Filling you with a warmth that you swore you felt in your chest. Biting down on his bottom lip you sucked into your mouth, moaning when he canted his hips forward, prolonging the sparks that ran up your spine. He was a panting mess and you tried to picture what he looked like.

Was his hair a mess? Were his cheeks stained red? Were his lips swollen?

The urge to simply open your eyes nearly overtook you, but you understood what came with that action. What would have to happen afterwards. Din had explained enough for you to grasp the basic details of what being a Mandalorian meant. So you kept them closed and opted to simply feel. You memorized how his lips against yours felt, what being full of him felt like.

You kept what you could nestled against your heart, remaining here for as long as possible. Din’s cock softened in you, twitching every now and then when your walls fluttered. But you solely had him to blame. Because he was running his hand along your body, grazing your nipples lightly before pulling away—the familiar feelings in your stomach stirring once more. If he wasn’t careful neither of you would be leaving this bed for quite some time.

Which didn’t bode well for you seeing as how you hated the planet you currently resided on.

“Din,” you breathed, pulling away to catch your breath before he dived down again—ready for round two of the hottest makeout session you’d partaken in.

“You want to leave,” he panted. There was something scary about how he could see your thoughts so clearly. You’d have to ask him about it later.

“No…” Your head fell back against his shoulder. “I want to stay here, but Hoth.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We can stay here for as long as you want.”

Half expecting him to pull out and place his helmet back in its rightful place, you were a bit surprised when he remained put. Curling himself around you closer until his body perfectly molded yours. The cold still remained in the ship—the heaters unable to counteract the snowy planet—yet you found that you were perfectly content to remain right where you were. Wrapped in his arms—the certainty of your future now nestled in his heart. Mimicking yours in every way.

“Din,” you breathed in the darkness, feeling him trace something along your waist.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say…” You took in a breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. “I feel like you should hear me say it.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers pressing down. “I know cyar'ika. I feel the same way.”

“You do?” you asked softly.

“I do.”

You settled into the bed, allowing your muscles to relax and your body to once more give into the temptation of sleep. With Din right there, you felt as if you were able to finally relax. To give in and allow yourself to float.

“You know…” You yawned, feeling his chin settle against your shoulder. “Maybe Hoth isn’t so bad.”

He smiled, his lips brushing along your skin as you drifted off, mind succumbing to the sweet snare of unconsciousness. “No,” he breathed, continuing to trace the shape of his signet on your skin, because whether you wore it or not…you were a part of his clan. His life. “It’s not.”

#ah yes #passionate open feeling sex with din #my favorite #always a hit #din djarin x reader #din djarin #yet again more amazing fanfics #not my fanfic #not my writing #nsft.#18+ only

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mando-abs · 5 hours

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'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body.

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper.

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding.

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim.

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now.

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.”

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.”

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand.

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know.

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.”

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?”

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.”

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?”

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.”

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.”

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while.

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it.

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like.

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm.

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt.

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault.

Then the kiss had happened.

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt.

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?”

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that.

But now you do.

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.”

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward.

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?”

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver.

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.”

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .”

“Hear that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?”

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.”

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.”

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.”

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.”

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone.

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.”

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you.

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns.

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.”

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates.

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick.

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you.

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do.

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets.

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.”

Joel squeezes your breast as his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses.

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you, fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time.

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously.

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss.

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.”

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him.

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile.

“Inside me, daddy, please.”

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—”

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach.

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him.

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver.

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.”

“Don’t have to what?”

“Send the video.”

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.”

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.”

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger.

“I guess I will.”

#wow #speechless #like I #just yeah #joel miller x reader #joel miller #yet again more amazing fanfics #not my fanfic #not my writing #nsft.#18+ only

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mando-abs · 6 hours

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My problem with Wyll is that I don't really stick with positive characters, but he's very handsome and deserves more art

#I don’t know this man #but I agree #I need to see him more often #hellooooooo nurse

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Padme🥺

#gasp #so beautiful #omg #padme amidala #yet again more amazing art #not my art

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mando-abs · 9 hours

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Kinktober 2023: October 2nd

Day 2: Frottage, Sexual Frustration, Virginity

Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Virginity, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Tonight is probably the most nerve wracking, terror inducing night of your life. The night you are going to give your virginity to the one and only Marcus Moreno.

It’s not like you meant to stay a virgin. It just kind of happened. A combination of high standards and concentrating on your work has led you to be a middle-aged woman with no sexual experience. About to try to take this next step with a man that you not only respect but you are really, really attracted to.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you take a deep breath. Smoothing down the lines of your lingerie that you had decided was the most appropriate to show that you are ready to do this.

He’s been amazing. The conversation had been hard, breaking down into tears while you confess the dark secret that you’ve been keeping from the man you’ve been dating for three months. He had not judged you, just wrapped his arms around you and assured you that it didn’t matter to him. He would wait until you are ready to do anything.

That, more than anything, told you that this was the man that you wanted to give your virginity to. Or, maybe a better way to put it would be that this man is the one you wanted to experience sex with for the first time.

Now, you feel like you are ready. Every night you spend in his company convinces you that you are eager to take this step. Every lingering kiss, the tension builds, but he still holds back. Ending the make out sessions with one final kiss and then a breathless sigh as he shoves his hand through his hair, shooting you a sheepish grin before he discreetly adjusts the proof of his own desire.

Taking one more breath, you turn and slip out of the bathroom. Turning off the light and finding Marcus waiting on the bed for you. His own nerves are not on display as he turns towards you. Eyes widening behind his glasses as he stands up. “Wow.”

The breathed out awe in that one word soothes you, making you smile and giggle slightly as you pop your hip out to pose for him. “You like this?” You ask, watching as he takes off his glasses and closes them to put on the dresser before he steps closer to you.

“Yeah.” He nods and licks his lips and slowly reaches for you so you have a chance to back away if you want. You don’t want to back away, you want to press closer.

“Marcus…” You bite your lip and your heart is pounding in your chest. Nerves fluttering and churning in your stomach. “I- I want this.” You had talked about this at dinner, but you feel the need to make sure that he knows that you really do want this.

“Are you sure?” In front of you is a superhero. A man who has saved the world countless times, has powers that you cannot even match. Yet, right now, all his attention is on you. His warm eyes darkened with desire, and you feel the way that his grip tightens on you. Still, despite his own needs, he’s making sure that you have a choice.

“I’m sure.” You nod, fingers curling into the shirt on his arms. “I’m really sure.”

Once he’s given permission, Marcus instantly becomes the lover that you’ve always dreamed of when you secretly read those romance novels. His touch is worshipful as he starts to slowly caress you, his mouth kissing yours over and over again before he starts to trail kisses down your neck.

Never moving too fast to overwhelm you, he keeps you yearning for more, every perfectly placed touch meant to keep you on edge for him. Your breathing heavy and your thoughts completely turned to mush by every calloused pass of his hands on your skin.

Marcus hums as he lays you down on the bed, one knee between yours. Hands gentle as he starts to peel you out of the lingerie. Groaning and dropping feather light kisses on the skin that he exposes. Making you feel like a princess, or a goddess as he makes every doubt about yourself fade into the warmth of his presence.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He groans, his cock twitching in his pants as he looks down at you.

Squirming under the weight of his gaze, you don’t feel like a virgin, you feel like a vixen. A seductress that could tempt any mere man and make them fall at your feet. “You’re gorgeous, Marcus.” You pant quietly. “I need more.”

Being the glorious man that he is, Marcus knows exactly what you need. His fingers sliding through your folds and starting to rub your clit in slow, tight circles. Your eyes roll back and your moan is embarrassingly loud. Not that he seems to mind, his groan matching yours when his lips descend on yours again.

You had already told him that you didn’t want him to go down on you. Too embarrassed or scared of what he might think when he’s face to face with your pussy. It’s not like you’ve ever had that done to you before, and you know that you are nervous enough about letting this man’s large cock inside you. You know it’s large, you’ve felt it pressed against you when your make out sessions got a little steamy.

“I’m going to make you cum just like this, baby.” Marcus’s voice is like honey whiskey. Rough and smooth as he coos at you. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

It’s hard to give over control, but you know you are in good hands. Those hands, the same ones on you right now, have literally held the fate of the world in them. You think you can trust that he will do right by you. Your eyes are closed, lips curled up in a slight smile. Missing the way that his own eyes narrow slightly in concentration. Wanting to make tonight perfect for you.

“Marc.” Your whine is breathless, body trembling under his touch as you start to creep closer to the edge. “Oh, oh god.” It’s the first of many times that you will cry out in pleasure.

“That’s it, baby.” He murmurs, his lips pressing against your pulse to feel it pound under them. “You need to cum, so I can make sure you enjoy when I’m inside you.”

Those words throw you over the edge. The pleasure bursting in a sharp kaleidoscope of heat, flooding your body in waves. “Marc!”

Marcus groans, cock twitching and throbbing in his pants. He hadn’t pushed his fingers inside you, but you would be so tight and wet right now. Slowing down the circles of his fingers as your hips chase the pleasure he is bringing you.

Coming down from the utter bliss is soft, slow. Slow enough that you don’t even realize that you lose contact with Marcus for a moment. The shuffling of clothes not even registering until he’s back in your arms. His hot skin pressed against yours and immediately firing all new sorts of sensations and shivers.

His kisses are tender, reassuring you as he starts to settle between your thighs, the long length of him pressing against your clit and making you gasp into his mouth. Swallowing them down for you and rocking his hips forward, making you want to wrap your legs around him.

The moment he slips inside you, time ceases to exist. Everything stops, even your heart as he slowly pushes in. Filling you, stretching you beyond anything that you imagined in your wildest dreams. Letting you cling to him as he kisses you and pets your hair, murmuring praises.

He moves slowly, letting you feel every inch, every ridge and vein as he pulls and pushes inside your slick walls. Every roll of his hips pulls another sensation, another moan out of you. Working your body back up slowly, but just as steadily as before.

The weight of him is magnificent. The crease of his brow as he hovers over you. The flex of his arms as he keeps his full weight off of you. Totally focused on you and how this is making you feel. Every moan listened to, responded to. When you gasp, he’s making sure that it’s in pleasure and not discomfort.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, sure that you wouldn’t be able to cum from sex alone, but he had taken his time to make sure you weren’t falling behind. Grinding his hips just perfectly to hit the right angle inside you. His cock pressing against something amazing.

His own pleasure follows right behind yours. Obviously holding himself back to make sure you had cum before he gives into his own needs. Groaning out your name is the sexiest thing that you’ve ever heard in your life and even though you are panting, breathless, you can’t help but stroke his chest and his cheeks as he rides out his pleasure.

“How was it?” Marcus asks after he’s cleaned you up and you are cuddled into his chest. His fingers stroking your arm as the softness of the moment isn’t lost on you. You feel amazing, tired, but energetic all at the same time.

“It was amazing.” Turning your kiss his chin and smile when he looks down at you. “Thank you for making my first time special.” You whisper quietly.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” Marcus assures you, licking his lip and leaning in for another kiss. “My absolute pleasure.”

Marcus Moreno took your virginity, and made it a perfect night for you. Ever the superhero.

#awwwwww #how sweet!#Marcus would be a good first time pick #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #yet again more amazing fanfics #not my fanfic #not my writing #nsft.#18+ only

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mando-abs · 9 hours

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Kinktober 2023: October 1st

Day 1: Sex Toys/Strap-on, Mutual Masturbation, Muscle

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Masturbation, filthy language, cum, cum eating

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Sex at the end of the world is a precarious thing. Rubbers aren’t worth even trying, they are nearly twenty years old and there is no way he would trust one not to break. The factories down in Atlanta aren’t making birth control, they make hydrocodone. Even though he’s fifty-six years old, his swimmers still work. He could still knock you up, and that’s the last fucking thing he wants to do.

“Joel.” You whimper and bite your lip as your need for some friction is making you roll your hips down, trying to grind against the threadbare panties you are wearing, soaked through. “Please, fuck, I need you.” You beg.

He wants to. Fuck, he wants to rip of those panties and bury his cock deep in the no doubt perfect pussy you possess. To thrust deep and keep rocking until nothing but the pleasure of your moans and the aching anticipation of his own release all that matters. But he can’t. He won’t. He won’t plant a baby in your belly to fail you, to disappoint you.

Joel closes his eyes, his own hand drifting down to palm his hard cock through his jeans, grunting at the pressure and he knows he is close to giving in. It’s been nearly two months since the thing between you has been building to the point where he would have taken you to bed. If this had been before the Outbreak, he would have fucked you by the second week. Now? He can’t risk it. Not when the two of you are in the middle of nowhere and having a kid out here is a death sentence.

“Baby, we can’t.” He grumbles, seriously giving thought to trying to pull out, but he knows he would be too slow to do it. Unwilling to leave the hot velvet clutch once he’s buried deep. Fuck, he needs to find one of those doctors who are making the tea blends.

“Joel.” “I said no.” He’s sharper than he means to be. HIs words are harsh and his frown even harsher as he resists the urge to bury himself inside you until he forgets to breathe. He can’t do that. He can’t risk what could happen.

Your frown makes him feel guilty, the way your body stops moving, feeling chastised for wanting him. The rejection starts to bloom in your eyes, making him feel even worse than before.

“Touch yourself.” He orders, his jaw tight and his own thumb pushes at the button of the old Levi’s he’s wearing. “Show me what you do when you think I’m asleep.”

Embarrassment blooms on your face, eyes dropping down to the ground and he grunts when the zipper gives him relief as it’s dragged down. “Joel-”

“I bet you have the prettiest little clit.” He shifts, grunting as he wiggles on the ground, thankful for the ragged bedroll underneath the two of you. Your own pack had to be left behind so now you are sharing. Another tempting lure.

His cock springs free when he takes his briefs down too. Making you moan as you get a glimpse of him for the first time. Curling up towards his belly and rock hard, Joel spits in his hand and wraps it around his length. “I can’t fuck you right now, but I can watch you make yourself cum.” He groans, twitching and already starting to slowly stroke himself as he watches you. Waiting for you to move. “You can watch me cum.”

The way you bite your lip makes him want to take your lip between his own pearly white teeth and bite. Toying with the plump flesh and seeing what kind of sound he could pull out of you. But he won’t, because if he kisses you, he won’t just stop at that. Letting out a sigh when you nod and start to peel your panties down, exposing the glorious view of your cunt.

Wet, you’re so fucking wet that he can see the creamy slick, making him grunt and twitch again. Squeezing himself harder as he throbs for you. Your hair isn’t overly grown, telling him that when you get the chance, you trim it up. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt of yours. All nice and wet for me.” Joel groans. “Bet you are tighter than a glove.”

Your whimper is like music to his ears and he watches as you start to slide your fingers through your folds to wet them. Brushing against your clit as your eyes close and then wrench back open so you can watch him as he fucks his hand. “Joel…”

“That’s it, pretty girl.” He rasps out. “Tell me how you like to cum. Show me what you like to do, pretendin’ it’s me.” He can’t touch you, but he can make this good for you. You’ve already told him once how much you love his gravelly voice. “Fuck.”

You’re even wetter than he imagined once your folds are peeled back and exposing the little nub that he would love to suck on. That fluttering little hole he desperately wants to plunge into and stretch around his thick cock. Feeling you squeezing him as you whimper and moan his name, writhing on his lap like you can’t get enough of him. “Look at you, pretty girl. All nice and wet for my cock. Slide your fingers into your tight little hole for me.”

The fact that you so willingly obey him makes this even sexier. His hand pumping his cock, the slick sounds of it mixing with the sucking sounds your cunt is making as you plunge your fingers in and out of your needy little hole. Matching his rhythm as your breath starts to become more and more ragged.

“Fuck.” Joel hisses, letting go of his cock and spitting into his hand again to give himself more lube. “Thought about you a lot. How pretty you would sound. How good you will feel.” He doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t want you, he does. Christ, does he. “Fucked my fist and came on the ground when I was keepin’ watch so many nights.”

Your eyes are glazed over with lust and you moan so softly as your other hand massages your tits. Legs starting to tense and shift as you find the perfect angle for your fingers.

“That’s it, girl.” Joel grunts. “Make those toes curl. Wanna see those pretty tits bounce as your body shakes for me.”

Your gasp is just fuel for his own desires, absorbing it and grunting in response as his hand starts to grip his cock a little tighter. The movement of his hand aided by his rocking of his hip. He doesn’t know where to look. Your tits, your eyes, that pretty cunt. All of it a feast and Joel is gorging himself as he imagines fucking you.

“Baby.” Your body is tense and he knows you are on the edge of cumming.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” He croons, smirking at you with lust darkened eyes. “Go ahead and cum. It’s okay.”

When you follow his order, when your soft cry rings out into the night, Joel hisses under his breath, taken by the sight of your face scrunched up in pleasure. Feeling his own body tense, the ache in his balls becoming sharper as they pull up against his body.

The short, hard jerks on his cock stop, rolling his hips up as the first spurt of cum shoots out. Thick white ropes of cum spilling out over his hand and onto the ground between you as he groans out your name. Eyes fixed on yours as he slowly strokes himself through his orgasm as you come down from yours.

Joel pants, letting go of his cock as he watches you pull your fingers out of your cunt, covered in your juices and he reaches out to take your hand. “Not gonna let that go to waste, pretty girl.” He grunts, pulling your hand towards his mouth so he can lick off every drop of your sweet nectar. Groaning as he cleans your fingers and watches you.

“Joel.” Your body aches with the need to touch him, reaching down to touch his cock but he shakes his head, denying you.

When he lets go, he rolls over for a second to grab a rag to clean up his cum. Grimacing slightly at the mess and then tossing it into the fire. “We should get some sleep.” He tells you before you can even speak. “Need to get the fuck to Jackson.”

“Oh…” You sigh softly, knowing that this will probably be the last night this ever happens. You can see those walls going back up as he slides his jeans and underwear back up.

“I’ve got to find some kind of fucking birthcontrol.” Joel groans. “I don’t mind watching you masturbate, but I’m gonna fuck you, pretty girl.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, getting to Jackson becomes your top priority.

#the ending hehehe #even though this is more realistic to the story #it somehow makes it hotter???#like fewer safe sex options booooo no fun #but you’re still desperate anyways???? hottttttt #joel miller #joel miller x reader #yet again more amazing fanfics #not my fanfic #not my writing #nsft.#18+ only

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