#⧽ ⠀ ⠀ ── ⠀ ⠀ character ⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ marcus.

[ghostofaboy]

Purpose

Summary: Marcus has a very specific desire, and Dave is only too happy to assist.

Pairing: Marcus Pike/Dave York Rating: Explicit | Word count: 789

Warnings: Anal sex, breeding kink, Dom/sub elements

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This was a request from @perotovar and @fluffygoffpanda as part of my 200 Follower Celebration, as their requests worked really well together. Divider by @saradika-graphics Little bit of a sequel to this and this.

Pulling his knees up closer to his chest, Marcus could feel Dave’s gaze on him. Those beautiful eyes were exploring his body, roaming over every inch, planning out exactly what he’d do to the exposed agent. Strong hands trailed over his flesh, thumbing over his nipples, sending shivers through Marcus’ body as goosebumps dance across his skin. As a callused finger circled his ready hole, Dave smirked.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Marcus gasped out, his cock twitching to his words, with small beads of precum flicking onto his stomach. “I’m ready.”

“I won’t go easy on you.”

“I don't want you to. I want you to fill me up. I want... I need you to breed me.”

A deep growl was the other man’s response as one of his large hands grabbed Marcus’ thigh while he lined up his thick length. As the sizeable head breached him, Marcus couldn’t stop himself from holding his breath. Despite receiving his lover’s cock many times, it somehow always caught him off guard with its girth. Although his body had long since adapted, the delicious stretch of the initial penetration was something Marcus hoped would never lose its thrill.

Once he was fully seated within Marcus, Dave paused to take in every expression and Marcus could see his eyes analyzing him and checking him. But he knew by now there was more to it than that. Dave cared. In his own way. What Marcus had first taken as cool detachment he now understood to be a self-imposed barrier. One that stop others getting too close while still allowing Dave to let small controlled amounts of love out.

As Dave began to slowly roll his hips, pumping his thick length deep into Marcus, the heady rush of arousal sent the younger agent’s thought back to their first encounter. There had been no names, just a quick fuck in a seedy motel and little chance of ever seeing each other again. But they had. Running into each other on a case of all things and after attempting to stay professional for a couple of day, they had tumbled into bed together.

The sounds of skin smacking against skin filled the room as Dave steadily increased his pace, driving his cock into Marcus’ hole. Each time Dave plunged into him, jolted Marcus slightly up the bed, stoking the fire inside him, and causing him to writhe and squirm. Shifting to lean down over Marcus, Dave spread the younger man’s legs wide, tucking each leg under his arms as he maintained his iron grip on Marcus’ thighs.

Pinching his eyes shut, Marcus could feel Dave’s balls slapping against him with every hungry thrust. He could smell the sex and sweat in the air, the thick musk permeating the room and his senses. His whole world was Dave inside him, stretching him, fucking him to the edge of his sanity and then bringing him back. 

Dave’s movements were frenzied now. Jackhammering into Marcus with abandon as the older man chased his finish, and with each powerful slam into him, Dave brought Marcus close to his own climax. Opening his eyes, Marcus was met with the slight of Dave’s eyes locked into him. They were filled with determination, lust, but also…

Dave came first, as he often did, letting out a low, throaty cry as he rocked into Marcus. As Dave leaned forward to rest his head on the younger man’s shoulder, Marcus couldn’t stop himself letting out a needy whine as he felt the hot seed flooding into him. This is what he wanted. What he needed. To feel and keep every drop of Dave’s cum inside him. What else was he for if he couldn’t do that?

Marcus could feel Dave trembling as he stilled, slowly leaning up to look at Marcus again. For a moment Marcus thought Dave would do what he always did and stay inside him, keep fucking him until he came. But instead, Dave began to carefully pull out, easing his cock out of Marcus’ gaping hole before quickly reaching for a plug. 

“You have a choice, Marcus.” Dave’s voice hitched slightly as his shaking hands gently nudged the plug into place, filling Marcus once more with the heavy silicone. “One, I can make you come now. Daddy will blow you baby and make you feel good. Or, two, you can wait like a good boy until I’m ready to go again and Daddy’ll fill you up even more.”

From his place on the bed, Marcus’ cock twitched at the choice. With his legs spread open for Dave and his chest heaving with each breath, he couldn’t help but grin. There was no choice at all, really. He knew exactly what he wanted. 

#marcus pike #dave york #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fiction #marcus pike x dave york #dave york x marcus pike #ghost of a boy requests #requested fic

[baronessvonglitter]

From Day One

Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Word count: approx. 2.5K

Summary: your FBI partner and secret crush Agent Marcus Pike has only you to lean on after his breakup with Teresa Lisbon. You offer him something to take away his heartache..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, friends to lovers, pining, angst, fluff, confessions of love, oral (m & f receiving), 69ing, unprotected p in v sex

Author's Note: this was a fic posted on AO3 right around Valentine's Day but there's not much talk about the holiday itself except a couple brief mentions. Didn't feel like waiting 8 months to post it here 🙂‍↔️

You’ve loved Agent Marcus Pike from the moment you were introduced. Your first day at the Austin FBI field office was a chaotic one, being thrown onto a case with him immediately. Your transfer from out of state was sudden, but your skills were sought after by this particular department and you soon became an asset.

You also became close with Marcus himself, partnering with him on several high-profile cases. Spending all that time together, you felt sparks. It was easy to be with him. He seemed to genuinely care about the cases, and in getting to know him you found out he was not only handsome, but sweet and compassionate. Everything you looked for in a man.

And then Teresa Lisbon came into the picture.

One day you were bringing Marcus a coffee and bagel from your favorite place downtown when you walked into the office and saw him laughing with her. You froze, but your smile completely disappeared when she kissed him. Right in front of you. You swore your heart stopped beating.

Marcus noticed you and introduced you to his new girlfriend, an agent you'd seen around and probably nodded politely to in passing. To save face you welcomed her. When they were gone you dumped the extra coffee down the sink.

Your working relationship with Marcus grew somewhat distant. You remained cordial with him, but you kept yourself less accessible than you used to be. You refrained from calling him or even joking with him. He definitely took notice, but his relationship with Teresa took over everything else in his life. Upon hearing that after only months of dating they were engaged, you put in a request for reassignment, which was promptly rejected. You were essential to the department, and honestly quitting wasn't an option for you, so you just had to eat your heart out, watching those two lovebirds. He planned on taking her to DC with him on his transfer anyway, so you figured it would be good riddance to both after all.

And one day, a day that starts out like any other. Marcus doesn't show up for work. And there's gossip around the office that he was dumped by Teresa. You know better than to put too much faith in rumors, but at the end of the day you share an elevator going down with Teresa herself, and her face says it all. She looks guilty and can't even look you in the eye.

In your car you immediately call Marcus but get his voicemail. You drive by his house and see his car there. Banging on the door you refuse to leave until you know he's okay. "Marcus open this damn door!"

He does open it eventually and he looks like a shell of his former self. His eyes are bleary and red. He's been crying but refuses to show it.

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, and without a second thought you embrace him. Your body is warm as he hugs you back.

* * *

"I can't believe she'd do that! What a bitch!" you exclaim, sitting on the sofa with him as he reveals the details of his breakup with Teresa.

"She's not a bitch," he softly replies. "She just wants someone else."

"Okay then, she's an idiot." You refuse to let her off the hook for hurting someone you'd fallen for long ago. "Are you still going to DC?"

He nods. "I made a commitment and I'm still seeing it through."

"Unlike her," you mutter.

"I wasn't a good friend to you while I was with her," he confesses, his puppy dog eyes conveying his regret. "Can you forgive me?"

This confession shocks you. You hadn't expected Marcus to be aware of what you were going through. You hadn't even made your feelings for him known. "It's fine, Marcus.. I was hurt, I'm not going to lie.. but you were in love. I know what it's like to lose yourself in someone." You cast a look at him that is filled with longing.

"I'd been planning this move to DC months in advance," he says. "Way before I met Teresa. And honestly, my first choice was to bring you with me."

This takes you by surprise. "What?"

He smiles. "You're my partner.. it was only right that I bring you with me, if of course you wanted to. Then things changed, and.." he trails off and you can tell he's fighting off another round of tears thinking about Teresa. "Would you still want to come with me? The DC branch is still expecting two agents. We'd have to figure out a living situation, but.. I'd love for you to come. I'll understand if you don't."

"Absolutely," you say before he's even finished his sentence.

"Really?" He smiles for the first time and it lights up his face.

You smile back. "Only an idiot could say no to you, Marcus Pike.."

* * *

DC is so much more fast-paced than you expected, but you and Marcus keep busy, working on new, more prominent cases. It's like the good old days, before he had his heart stomped on by Teresa. You've been careful with him, giving him his space to heal while you've also become acclimated to this new city.

You share a two-bedroom loft in the heart of the city, and it's been an easier transition than you'd thought. Being with him is so natural, so easy. Even the holidays are spent in a kind of quiet reminiscence. But then Valentine's Day rolls around, and just as you think Marcus is finally getting to a good place, you see him somber, his sparkle dulled. He must be thinking of Teresa, and how they'd be starting a life together now..

Even though nothing has been discussed regarding the obvious chemistry between you, you decide it's time to show him what he's been missing out on. Valentine's night, you suggest staying in and watching a movie. You stream "My Best Friend's Wedding", a film you both love, and settle in with some snacks. It's a comfortable evening as you relax on the sofa, your head on his shoulder. You're both in comfy clothes: Marcus in a white tee and sweatpants, you in a tank top and sleep shorts.

You decide to test the waters by resting your arm across his chest, hand on his shoulder. and he subconsciously places his hand on your elbow. You smile, reaching up to press a soft kiss to his neck. He tenses ever so slightly but doesn't pull away, in fact he sighs and that makes you smile. You whisper his name as your lips lightly brush his ear. You feel his pulse start to race, his eyes half-lidded as he falls under your spell. Your lips skim across the scruffy beard he's grown since his breakup, pressing to his cheek.

Without warning he grabs you and puts you in his lap, straddling him, and pulls you in for a scorching kiss. He holds the back of your head while his other hand strokes your back. The kiss is a synergy of lips and tongues, and you pull him closer to you while you feel him growing hard beneath you. You joyfully rub yourself against him, seeking the friction that will bring you together, making yourself absolutely drenched and knowing he can feel it through his sweatpants. Jesus, you could come right now just from the friction alone.

But he pauses, doesn't necessarily stop, putting a small bit of distance from your kiss as his gaze searches yours. "What are we doing?" he whispers, seemingly awestruck as he brushes a tendril of hair away from your face.

"I'm making my best friend feel better," you answer.

“Just your friend?” He crooks an eyebrow. Your stomach flutters with anticipation.

“Maybe more than a friend..”

He pulls you in for another kiss, removing your tank top. You delight in the feel of his fingertips on your bare flesh. A high pitched gasp passes your lips as his lips graze your neck, tease their way down your chest until he takes a pert nipple in his mouth, slowly sucking and lavishing attention with his tongue. You press your body against him, an offering. His mouth slips further down until suddenly he flips you over with ease, making you gasp. He’s now kneeling before you, big brown eyes hopeful as his fingers curl into the waistband of your shorts.

“Marcus.. tonight’s supposed to be about you,” you tell him, voice trembling with excitement.

“You first,” he whispers as you brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “It should’ve been you from the start,” he says, admiring how your hips arch as he removes your shorts and panties together. “I know that now, and I.. I’m glad you made the first move tonight.. if I’d tried something and you rejected me I don’t know what I’d do..”

You brush your fingers through his hair and mentally damn TL for leaving him so broken. “I’m not going anywhere Marcus.. I’ve wanted you from day one..”

He exhales loudly, hooking your knees under his arms and pulling you to the edge of the sofa. In the soft glow of the table side lamp he takes in the sight of your pussy, sees how soaked you are for him. He looks up at you as his tongue delves into your folds, causing your hips to buck against him. He holds your thighs firmly, flicking his tongue inside you, scooping your sweet nectar, falling in love with the taste of you, watching each reaction. Fucking you with his tongue makes you sit upright, gently cupping the back of his head, and sweeping his tongue over your throbbing clit is what makes you cry out his name, hips rising up to offer more to his hungry mouth as your body stretches out, thighs threatening to clamp down around his head.

“Please, Marcus please,” you moan. “I want to suck your cock.. it’s all I’ve been thinking about all night,” you beg.

He’s touched by this: even when you’re so close to coming you’re still thinking about his needs, putting him first.

“Ride my face,” he says, taking over when he sees how vulnerable you are. After stripping off his clothes he lays naked on the sofa and you gingerly place yourself over his mouth, the heat of his breath warming your cunt. Marcus wastes no time getting back to work, licking and sucking, pressing his lips to your clit and gently murmuring, the vibrations making your pleasured nerve endings ricochet and send you into overdrive. You lean forward taking hold of his cock, your breath stills at the deliciously thick length, more girth towards the head, which is also perfectly shaped. Just as you've imagined all along, Marcus Pike has a beautiful cock.

You take him into your mouth with gusto, keeping one hand on the base and stroking as you suck him. You take your time, delicately tonguing his sensitive, swollen head of his cock, brushing your tongue across the slit that's already leaking precum. His salty essence is lapped up by your greedy tongue as you hear him moan behind you, and he buries his face into your cunt, sending a rush of heat and electricity throughout your body. He laps at you vehemently, intent on making you cum as many times as possible. He uses his fingers to find your G-spot, pressing harder upon the spongy tissue until you see stars behind your eyes, and give forth a cry of sweet release, coming hard around his invading fingers. "There you go," Marcus soothes, his touch becoming softer as you come down from your peak. "Baby, I want to drink from this pussy every day," he says, and his eyes light up when you give a low, wicked laugh.

"You haven't even come yet," you tell him, continuing to stroke him. You get on your knees before him but he sits up and brings you into his lap again.

"I want to be inside you when I come," he tells you, positioning you over him. "It's a fantasy I've had for so long."

"For how long?"

"Probably since that first day.."

"Oh Marcus," your rapid heartbeat resounds throughout your entire being. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I wasn't so sure I wanted to lose our friendship.. but I think we might have more to gain now, if you're willing.."

This is all you've ever wanted to hear from him. Your every hope is coming true tonight, of all nights, on Valentine's Day. "I think I look pretty willing to you, don't you think?" you smirk, taking hold of his still-swollen cock and taking him so deep within you, a little at a time. The look on his face speaks volumes and he thrusts up the last few inches, eliciting a languishing moan as you take him up to the hilt.

You start slow at first, savoring the feeling of finally being one with him. His hands roam everywhere: your hips, your breasts, your thighs, as if he doesn't know where to start. He's like a kid in a candy store.

"I'm yours, Marcus," you tell him, cupping his handsome face in your hands. "I'm only yours." The pain that he went through with her he'll never have to experience again. "I'm going to make you forget anyone else ever existed for you.."

He kisses you, your bodies pressed together as intimately as any two people can be, rocking your hips in tandem, discovering the feel of each other. He watches your body as you make your own rhythm, moving sensually over him, and he wonders how he could have ever even looked at anyone else. It’s a joy to him to absorb the view of you commanding your pleasure on him, knowing he's the one making you feel this way. If there's anyone on this earth who can make him forget his heartbreak it's you.

"You're my beautiful girl," he mutters, his thumb tracing the softness of your lips. You press down harder, grinding against him and he encourages it, fucking you just as you're fucking him until you're a sighing, moaning, gasping pair. Your orgasm only spurs on his own, your walls clenching around him possessively, claiming him, drawing him towards his own completion and when he fills you you swear it's the most pristine, most natural thing you've ever felt. You belong to each other now.

And later, when you're laying side by side on the sofa, covered with a throw blanket, attempting to finish the movie, watching Julia Roberts run after a man who's marrying someone else, you sigh contentedly as he wraps an arm around your waist, drawing you in closer, a smile graces your lips and you're pretty sure it'll never leave your face. "You haven't even asked me to be your valentine," you tease him.

"Oh? I thought my actions spoke volumes." His smile lights up the semi-darkness.

"You might have to repeat some of those actions.. in case I need to be reminded.." you scoot back against him, gleefully finding him already hard again.

He chuckles and his lips brush lightly against your ear as he takes your hips in his hands and, in a sure and determined thrust, thrusts into you from behind, causing you both to cry out in bliss.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike smut #friends to lovers #love and smut #the mentalist #ao3 fanfic #valentines day #pedro boys #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[joelalorian]

Masterlist

Welcome to the madness that is my medicated mind! Hope you find something you enjoy. 18+ MDNI, warnings/tags included on each individual fic. No use of y/n, ever.

Series

Tides of Desire: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht. Complete.

Fall Into Me: dbf!Joel x f!reader. Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything. Ongoing.

Petals of Affection: A cozy, floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader. A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time. Complete.

One-Shots

Lost Cause: Joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. You disagree. Inspired by the song Save Me by Jelly Roll. Some of the lyrics have been woven into the story.

One-Shots

Fevered Flame: Marcus Pike x f!reader. When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Teresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?

Series

Lycoris Radiata - Coming Soon!

One-Shots

Blown Away - Coming Soon!

Trail of Secrets - Coming Soon!

Sweetness in the Stars: Coming Soon!

#pedro pascal characters fanfiction #joel miller #joel x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #Marcus Pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike smut #TLOU #the last of us #the mentalist

[firsttarotreader]

Special Series - Pedro’s Characters as Tarot Cards

(Ongoing)

Dieter Bravo - The Devil

Agent Whiskey - Judgement

Oberyn Martell - The Sun

Din Djarin - The Chariot

Joel Miller - The Hanged Man

Javier Peña - The Emperor

Dave York - The Moon

Javi Gutierrez - The Star

Silva - ? 😊

More characters on the way!

PS: This post is also under construction, but for those who want to read them all together already, there you go. 🤗

Art made by my lovely friend who wants to stay anonymous EXCLUSIVELY for the blog. Another art by her also on the way for this Masterlist.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #agent whiskey #din djarin #oberyn martell #dave york #joel miller #javier peña #tarot reading #character cards #silva #javi gutierrez #marcus pike #pero tovar #pedro pascal fandom #ezra #frankie morales

[dirtychocolatechai]

It’d come through comms, a new bounty, with a big payout. The hail Mary your group had been looking for. So who cared that the mark was the fucking Boogeyman of the Wasteland? 

A fucking Ghoul that some of the chicken-shit members of the group told ghost stories about in the flickering glow of the lantern at night. You didn’t believe it, yeah, you’d come up against some nasty characters before in your time in the Wasteland. Hell once or twice a mark had been a Ghoul. 

But you’d taken them down with little struggle, turned in the needed proof, got paid and moved on. This would be a cakewalk, and those caps would buy you the future of luxury you were owed in this shitshow of a world. 

You’d been so fucking sure of yourself, even when he’d toyed with you all. Mocking your group, chuckling to himself with a jovial taunt, “didn’t realize they’d send such a mediocre group of hicks after little ol’ me.” 

That comment had stung, and you’d been a bit too trigger happy, you’d let him get in your head. It’d cost you everything. 

He took you all out with militant precision, the first few he’d shot in the head, grinning with wicked delight as brain matter splattered on the decrepit walls of the warehouse you’d cornered him in. 

Or break a limb with violent glee, when someone forgoed guns to close combat, he’d smashed Kade’s face in with the heel of his palm. You’d at least gotten him in the shoulder, a bit of sadistic exhilaration filled you at his pained grimace, a miniscule victory in a heaping shit-pile of loss. 

It became too much, and a once cohesive group turned tail and started to run. But you’d poked a creature that now demanded blood, in recompense for his mild annoyance. 

You tried to calm them over comms, get them to regroup, to put their faith back in you. But one by one static would greet your repeated calls for a fall in. A solid group of twenty, slowly, methodically picked off. Your heartbeat, pitter-pattering in a growing staccato of panic. 

Stumbling through the corridors, checking every channel, eyes flickering with growing unease as shadows cornered you in. Hoping, pleading, someone would answer you, instead of the grainy crackle of static. 

“Marcus, Marcus come in–” 

“I think you know by now, little lady, that the meatsack formally known as, Marcus was it? Is not gonna answer you,” like a bucket of ice water in your veins. His voice drawls over the channel. “Now why don’t you be a darling and come out, make this quick?” 

You rip the comm out of your ear with a panicked hitch of breath, crouched in a forgotten corner on the second floor. You’d hoped to make a break for it, but like a great cosmic joke. The Boogeyman’s already there. 

Blocking your only safe exit down, and it’s either get past him, or a broken leg out of the second-story window. You take your chances, firing at the Ghoul, and making a dash for it when his head jolts down to avoid the bullet. 

He laughs, easily catching you and throwing you against the wall. Knocking the wind out of your lungs, yanking the gun from your hand and tossing it to some distant part of the room you have no hope of reaching. The Ghoul moves with lazy confidence. Even as red bleeds openly from the wound in his shoulder, the only wound on him. 

“So this is the little bitch that got me?” 

He hums, pressing you into the wall with his body, you gasp attempting to wriggle away from him, but he’s trapped you against the concrete wall, and himself. His breath is vile, smelling of meat, and rot. 

The heat coming off of him is overwhelming, you thrash, shriek, buck. It’s no use, his hands grab at the grimy fabric of your shirt. Pulling you snug against him, as he hunches over you. The brim of his hat bumping your forehead, as he tilts his head with a mocking pout. 

“I think you owe me, for causing such a ruckus–” 

“Then kill me!” You bare your teeth, a feral attempt at causing him some unease. He smirks, those shadowed brown eyes shining wickedly in the dim space. Taking in your wild snarl, lingering on your lips, his tongue wetting his own. The appendage, pink and slick as it swipes along the swell of his bottom lip. From this close you understand why they call them ghouls, the way there are some…traces of humanity left in his face, but it’s hard to find it with the crater that serves for where a nose used to sit. The rough patchwork of his skin, some of it scars, but most of it looks like a piece of meat left out in the desert sun too long. It makes you grimace and wriggle away from him. 

“Oh that’d be too easy, and hearing that pretty little voice of yours over the comms, something tells me this whole operation was your stupid idea,” you jolt, pressing against the wall, like it will give, and get you some space from the creature holding you captive against himself. “After all you put a hole in me, I should only be a gentleman and return the favor–” 

You manage one last feat of stupidity, launching your head forward. Forehead crashing against his chin, he lets go, with a pained grunt, for a moment. It’s all you need to scramble out of his grasp, he recovers, slotting a foot between yours, you fall, and he’s on you. 

He takes your hands first, with painful yanks, he forces them behind your back. As your shriek, thrash, shout. But you’re weak compared to him, pathetically weak. He ties your wrists, the rope coarse and painful as it rubs exposed flesh raw. Restricting blood flow, your fingers already tingling. He grunts, settling himself between your splayed legs grasping the rope at your wrists. Keeping you against the floor. 

Hunching over your body, he huffs, now he’s pissed, you’re dead–you know you’re dead, but how he’s going to do it terrifies you. 

“Now–now you’ve gone and done something stupid girl,” he pants, gloved fingers flexing around your bonds. His chest crushing you painfully down into the floor. Every breath you heave sends a cloud of radiated dust into the air. “I was just gonna stab you, maybe shoot a leg, but now…no I see you gotta learn a real lesson about fucking with the wrong characters around here.” 

His voice drops, the raspy southern drawl morphing to a raging snarl into your ear. Your body is tired, muscles aching, your head pounding. The skin split where his teeth connected to your forehead. A warm trickle of blood trickles down the curve of your cheek. 

“Please–” before pride had stopped you from begging, but now it’s your last option and pride be damned. His head falls back with a smokey laugh, yanking your bound hands he presses the apex of your thighs against him. The laugh dies with a groan, and a new fear curls itself into your chest. 

He’s hard, beneath the grind of your ratty jeans, and his tattered pants, you feel him, solid and throbbing between your legs. Pressing against your covered cunt. 

“Begging ain’t gonna get you out of this, but it’ll certainly make it more entertaining.” 

He moves quickly, releasing you for a second, to grasp the back pockets of your pants. A quick grunt and a yank, cheap-deteriorated fabric rips, following the seam, he splits your pants at the crotch. 

“Well, look at that, going commando to a fight?” 

You hear the glee in his voice, your feet scramble for purchase, to kick out at the creature settled between your legs. But the angle’s awkward and you can’t land a hit to save your life. Only managing to tire yourself out faster. 

The coarse touch of leather splits your folds, your body jolts, freezing you in place. One hand is back around your wrists, keeping you in place. He hums appreciatively. 

“Well, I’ll give you this sweetheart, got the prettiest pussy I’ve seen in years,” as he speaks, his finger drags lazily up and down your folds. Watching as the folds part easily against the touch of his finger. A trace of slick glistens on his fingertip, not nearly enough for what he has planned but, not his problem. His finger teases lower to find your clit, he cackles as you buck in surprise. 

The touches send sparks of pleasure up your spine, warmth pools unwillingly in your stomach. He hums, impatient, as the finger leaves you. Biting your lip to stop the whine that bubbles up your throat. The pain distracts for a moment, till the hush of a zipper brings about one last attempt to get away. Your legs give another weak kick to dislodge him.

His fingers tighten around your bonds, he growls, “You’re not going anywhere, but by all means–squirm to your little heart’s content,” that’s the only warning you get, before the head of his cock aligns with you. “Feel free to scream.” 

A sudden thrust and his cock is filling you. The pain blooms beneath your skin, taking your breath for a moment, he’s too big, too thick. The stretch of him burns your unprepared cunt, the metallic taste of blood dances on your tongue. 

Distantly you realize you’ve bitten your lip, the pain does nothing to stop the ragged scream that punches out of your lungs. The Ghoul pauses for a horrid moment, head falling back as he groans. 

“Fuck, tighter then I thought you’d be,” but that’s all he says before starting a brutal pace. Using your bound wrists as an anchor he fucks into you with reckless abandon. Uncaring of your pain, he grunts with effort. Chasing his pleasure with ferocious gusto. You try to ignore the simmering warmth still in your belly, even as it grows. As the head of his cock grinds deep in your cunt, in places no one has been able to touch. The texture of his skin is strange and coarse against your gummy walls. Stroking against your cunt the roughness of his skin tinglings against nerve endings. 

You struggle, and squirm, to get away, the toes of your boots scrap and scuff against the ground. You shake your head, trying to ignore how your cunt molds easily to him, clamping around him. Accepts the abusive treatment of his shaft, the wet slaps growing louder the longer he fucks in and out of you. The heat of his cock almost too much, like it’ll burn you up from the inside out.

His breath is growled pants, his cock throbs inside of you, the sweet clench of your cunt around him, has him letting out a breathless laugh. Enjoying that every thrust forces some noise out of you, a whimper, a yelp, but he hears it, the tone changes. The subtle shift from pain to pleasure. He feels it too, you’re getting wetter with every punishing thrust, he glances down. To where his cock splits you open, the shin of your slick clear in his vision. With every seesaw motion, his cock shines with more and more slick, the way your cunt walls twitch around him. How the wet sounds of his cock splitting you open fill the empty room. The puffy redness of your pretty pussy lips as his shaft parts them again and again. 

He licks his lips, enjoying the view of your folds, stretch around his shaft, it’d been too long since he’d enjoyed a good fuck. Your pussy molds to him like a dream, makes him pant with delirious pleasure as you clench, and flutter around him. Slick gushing around him and on him with every thrust. 

It mortifies you, how eagerly your body accepts the punishment, how your clit throbs with every thrust, you yelp when he grinds just right and the teeth of his zipper scrape against the neglected little bud. Making you jolt, and your cunt flow again. 

The way your fingers, numb and turning red from lack of blood flow, flicker with movement when he presses deeper into you, how they clench when the head of his cock grinds against the ring of your cervix. He takes time to press his thrusts deeper, feeling the give of your walls as they quiver around him. 

“Well–hah–I’ll be,” he grunts as you tense and your cunt ripples around him, “damned, look at this.” His fingers dip down and swirl in the mess of slick and precum. You jolt at the rough texture of leather caressing your folds, dipping lower to stroke impatiently at your clit where most of the wetness has gathered. 

The touch of fingers disappears, and he leans over your, his too hot chest burns against your back, those fingers appear in your eyesight. You hear the grin in his voice. 

“Look at how wet the little bitch is getting for me,” he mocks, you scream, struggling again. It’s all bravado at this point, and it gives him another horrid idea, shoving his fingers into your open mouth. You gag, as they press on your tongue. The mixture salty along your tastebuds, mixing with the coppery tang of blood, but he grins sadistically feeling your cunt throb around him. 

“Be a good girl and clean those.” 

The change of position has him thrusting at a new angle, the head of his cock dragging against a place in your cunt that makes you tense. The friction becomes too much as slick pools beneath your hips, his own keep their punishing pace. The glide of his thrusts ensures he pounds deep into you, grinding and pressing himself into you. He pants into the shell of your ear, feeling the sudden spill of slick around his cock. He growls.

“Don’t think you’re gonna last much longer at this rate,” he pants, all you can manage back is a gagged moan around his invading digits. He’s right, the pleasure has outpaced the pain, your clit throbs, neglected, in time with your heartbeat. Your cunt stuffed full, leaks eagerly around his abusive pace.

Your mind is cotton-filled and delirious at this point, it’s too much, you gnaw on the glove-covered fingers in your mouth. The Ghoul doesn’t care that you’re just adding drool to the mixture on his fingers. 

No you feel too good, it’s been too fucking long and he’s going to milk this for all it’s worth. Shifting his legs he forces your right leg up, splaying you open even more. Stretching you, you moan at the sensation, which he answers with a groan. 

You’re close, and he feels it, in the throb of your cunt, clutching onto his cock like a vice. 

“Just remember darling,” he pants into the shell of your ear with a self-satisfied smirk. Giving the skin a mean nip, growling as your cunt pulses around him at the pain. “The cock that’s makin’ you cream like a bitch in heat.” 

He’s pulling himself back up, removing his fingers from your mouth, slapping his palm to the floor. You wince at the clap of it, he ups his pace, slamming into you. His cock rams into your depths with hard, wet slaps, every thrust forces a noise from your. As the position forces your cheek into the dust covered floor. 

He growls above you, the friction builds, his cock bumps painfully against your cervix as he fucks into you. Focusing on short, deliberate, grinding trusts. You gasp, as pleasure coils its horrid way through you. As slick gathers and drips with wet plops onto the floor, soaking your destroyed jeans. The grind of his zipper, catching your clit again and again, sends you over. With a sudden mind numbing pulse. You cum with a high-pitched shriek fingers twitching as you squirm beneath the onslaught of pleasure. 

Horror fills you at the splash of wetness that leaks from between your legs as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Overstimulating, frayed nerves you keen, “Stop–stop–p–please.” 

Your pleas are ignored as the Ghoul huffs above you chasing his own high, and the way his cock throbs inside of you, you know he’s close. But he makes no move to pull out, and you’re pleas’ become panicked begging. 

“Don’t–not inside–wait!” He claps his hand over your mouth, pressing deep into you, with a sudden gasp he’s filling you. The heat of his release makes you scream against his palm. He jolts a few times, grinding himself deep into your cunt groan. The twitch of his cock, the grind of his zipper against your clit. You whine, weak, and overstimulated. He pulls another small jitter of a climax from you, and has your cunt quivering weakly around him. Milking the last few dribbles of cum from him. 

He pants above you, and then he pulls out, with a wet squick of noise. You shiver as slick and cum leak from your fucked out hole. The Ghoul stands, tucking himself away with a click of his tongue. He stands over your form, you glance up at him, his leather-like lips pulled into a shit-eating grin. Mind still a muddled, fucked mess. Muscles twitch, with every movement another gush of cum drips down your pulsing clit. You hope he makes your death quick, but you should know better by now. The Wasteland is never that kind. 

“Think I’m gonna keep you a bit longer, that hole of your’s is gonna keep me satisfied for a bit longer.”

ricky! when i catch you ricky!

#cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #you know who you are

[janaispunk]

it’s sundayyyy, so here we go once again! i’ve had a week™️ which left me with about zero brain capacity to read, so this is a rather short list. the fics on it are bangers though, promise!

as always, please please pleaseeee if you read any of these, show the writers some love by commenting, reblogging, sending asks, all the fun things <3

for a list of all my recs ever, go here!

i'll organize the fics by character and add emojis to indicate the contents a little. still, please look at the tags/warnings and decide for yourself if something might not be for you. what we don’t do is harass the writers about it. deal? deal.

💘= fluff • ❤️‍🔥= smut • 🤍= angst • 🖤= dark

📖= oneshot • 📚= series

ezra

craving by @iamasaddie ❤️‍🔥🖤📖

frankie morales

do me yourself by @undercoverpena 💘❤️‍🔥🤍📚

on call by @luxurychristmaspudding 💘❤️‍🔥🤍📚

javi gutierrez

pleaser by @always-andromeda 💘❤️‍🔥📖

javier peña

nothing’s going to take you from my side by @quinnnfabrgay-writes ❤️‍🔥🤍📖

joel miller

looking for the light by @sixhours 🤍📖

of rage and ruin by @corazondebeskar-reads ❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📚

morning run by @laligraves ❤️‍🔥🖤📖

a wedding in june by @laligraves ❤️‍🔥🖤📖

his sweet secret by @ozarkthedog ❤️‍🔥📖

marcus moreno

show me where it hurts by @corazondebeskar-reads ❤️‍🔥📖

max phillips

vampire roommate by @auteurdelabre 📚

addicted by @aurorawritestoescape ❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📖 (yes. again.)

ted garcia

appointing authority by @penvisions ❤️‍🔥📖

my own writing:

nonexistent lol. but i started my own little writing/creating challenge this week, go here to participate and here for the masterlist <3

#pedro pascal #joel miller #javier peña #max phillips #frankie morales #ezra prospect #javi gutierrez #ted garcia #marcus moreno #janas recs #weekly fic recs

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

[malice-kingdom]

An army of Ghosts.

#tbosas #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #the hunger games #snowbaird #snowjanus #clemensia dovecote #bobbin tbosas #marcus tbosas #lamina tbosas #coral tbosas #jessup tbosas #mayfair lipp #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #snowjanusbaird #thg #there is a lot of character and most of them are unrecognizable so I’m not gonna tag everyone #anyway I’m quite proud of how it turned out #fanart

[morallyinept]

The thing I love most about this fandom is how collectively it has been determined that:

- Joel Miller has the biggest cock. Like, ever. Dude be 56 n' he's packing a bazooka in there. Constantly. No part of this man is smol.

- Frankie Morales is the pussy eating king. There are no other contenders. Even leaves the cap on. Except when he takes it off periodically to run his hand through those chocolate curls.

- Ezra is just debauched, depraved filth. You'd think losing an arm would quell him, but no. Man is feral. Cum-eating, anal-rimming, spit-slick dicking, somnophilic F E R A L.

- Dieter Bravo is the trashiest of all pandas and will literally fuck anything that breathes. Or moves. Literally fucks, gets high and makes shitty movies.

- Agent Whiskey would fuck you buck wild like a horse. And possibly throw in a few yeehaws too.

- Dave York would kill you with a simple stare. Then fuck your corpse. You'd still manage to call him daddy.

- Marcus Pike is so boyfriend material. But wind that sucker up and watch him lose his shit.

- Javier Peña is a sultry, moody bitch who would split you open with his cock and choke you whilst doing it, cariño. Then pretend like you don't exist until the next time.

- Marcus Moreno can dick you down so good as long as he's captured a few bad guys first.

- Din Djarin will always break his creed for you. Mando can't help it. It's the whistling pussy.

- Max Phillips makes having a crippling period worth it.

- Javi G is baby. 🥹

God bless you, writers 🖤

#pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect #joel miller #francisco morales #dieter bravo #agent whiskey #marcus moreno #marcus pike #javier peña #javier gutierrez #max phillips #dave york #pedro pascal #jett has spoken

[softiedingo]

#jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedropascal #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #javier peña #joel miller #din djarin #pero tovar #oberyn martell #agent whiskey #dieter bravo #javi gutierrez #max phillips #marcus pike #ezra prospect #comandante veracruz #marcus moreno #nathan landry #pietro alvarez #zach wellison #dave york #but that's not the point #and i love each one of them #softiedingo

[daddy-dins-girl]

Pedro Boys tasked with buying your period products.

Someone sent an ask about Pedro boys dealing with their girl on their period... Not sure if this is what you had in mind but I hope you enjoy it regardless :)

Also, this is just for silly fun, don't @ me too harshly in the comments please if you don't agree with some of these, but DEFINITELY feel free to tell me where and why your opinion might differ on some of these choices, I'd love to hear it.

like this post? check out my Pedro Boys Alignment Chart Masterlist here

Headcanons under the cut.

Din/Tim/Dave/Ortega/Clint/Max L - Din is mostly just too shy/embarrassed to ask for help, the rest of these guys are too stubborn, too busy and/or aren't terribly comfortable standing around in this aisle any longer than they have to be.

Ezra/Jack - They're just genuinely confused as to why there are so many varieties. Maybe you WILL be playing tennis tomorrow like this girl in the picture on the box, how tf are they supposed to know? Jack's also a bit of a himbo but it's okay, he's pretty.

Marcus M/Oberyn/Frankie/Marcus P/Joel/Javi P - Some of these boys are 'girl dads' and just know the drill by now. Some are just great husbands (or husband material) who pay attention and some, well... some of these boys just know your p*ssy better than you do and that's all there is to it.

Javi G/Eddie/Zach W - They're sweet, and they're trying. They just wanna be good boyfriends. God bless these boys.

Dieter/Pero/Max P/Lucien - Dieter thought it was an honest question. The rest of these guys are just complete menaces (and honestly, we love them for it).

#pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal #ppcu #ppcu alignment chart #pedro pascal characters #dave york #joel miller #maxwell lord #frankie morales #dieter bravo #din djarin #marcus pike #marcus moreno #tim rockford #ezra #jack daniels #oberyn martell #javier peña #javi gutierrez #max phillips #zach wellison #lucien flores #pero tovar

[fuckyeahpedropascal]

Pedro boys being broad AF

The Behind Edition

Literally no words... except that there will be more 🫠

From top to bottom, left to right: Javier Peña, Oberyn Martell, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Joel Miller, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno

Edited to add that the Frankie gif was nominated by my personal Frankie consultant @imaswellkid 😘

• Masterlist •

Related posts:

Shoulders/arms/waist ratio

Pedro boys in bed

Pedro boys disrobed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #the last of us #joel miller #narcos #javier pena #game of thrones #oberyn martell #triple frontier #frankie morales #marcus pike #marcus moreno #broad AF collection

[papitopascal]

To be honest outside of the Pedro bubble it has been a bit stressful and I’ve been feeling a bit down. I’m thankful for the friends Ive made. I’m thankful that this big goofy guy chooses to go out and be himself and make us all smile. We have been given a ton of great content this past week and i for one am thankful for it!

#pascalispunk #pedro pascal #i love pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #oberyn martell #the mandolarian #marcus pike #max lord #marcus moreno #max phillips #strange way of life #dave york #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #frankie morales #joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel the last of us #javi peña #javier peña #javi gutierrez #agent whiskey #ezra prospect #pedrito

[joelalorian]

Masterlist

Series

Tides of Desire

Complete: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter One - A Prelude to the Open Sea

Chapter Two - The Adventure Begins

Chapter Three - The Cut of One's Jib

Chapter Four - Cut and Run

Chapter Five - Red Sky in Morning

Chapter Six - Edging Forward

Chapter Seven - From Stem to Stern

Chapter Eight - As the Crow Flies

Chapter Nine - Close Quarters

Chapter Ten - On Your Beam Ends

Chapter Eleven - All at Sea

Chapter Twelve - Turn the Corner

Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader, ongoing

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

Chapter Two: It All Turned Around

Chapter Three: No Mirror for Monsters

Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

Chapter Five: My whole world came alive

Chapter Six: And I knew my heart wasn't mine

Chapter Seven: I'll Catch You Darlin'

Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Petals of Affection

Complete. A floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

Part I

Part II

Part III

One-shots

Lost Cause

Summary: Joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. You disagree. Oneshot.

Warnings: Explicit MDNI; Jackson-era Joel; canon-ish but also not; drinking; mentions of cigarettes, drugs, dark thoughts, and death; unprotected p in v; oral (m and f receiving); interesting use of red wine; unspecified age gap; despair and hope.

Inspired by the song Save Me by Jelly Roll. Some of the lyrics have been woven into the story.

~~~~~~~~~

Fevered Flame (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Summary: When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Theresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?

This fic is my contribution to @iamasaddie's Little Lady Kinky May writing challenge. Prompts were Marcus Pike and Temperature.

WC: 10.4k – I’m sorry, I have no idea where all these words came from

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #fanfiction #tlou #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #smut #fluff

[polar-equinoxx]

“If you think, you’re dead,” - Maverick

#rising out of the depths of art block with this YALL #i am planning on doing this digitally alsooo so👀 watch this space #omg so many character tags😭😭 #ms tg #ms art #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #nick goose bradshaw #ron slider kerner #rick hollywood neven #leonard wolfman wolfe #marcus sundown williams #charles chipper piper #charlotte charlie blackwood #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun fanart

[604to647]

Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 2

Welp! It seems there are link and tag limits? Who knew? Not this newb 😂😂 When I said that I've read so many good fanfics, I really meant it. Again, below the cut is a continuation of the list of some of my fave Pedro character fanfics that I've read on this site - ones I think about and revisit often. These are all fics I should have/would have reblogged if only I wasn't so weirdly nervous about it; in 2024 we will muster up some courage and reblog (it will be slow, probably, but I promise I will be trying!). This is a good time for me to also say that one of the reasons I am motivated to step out of my comfort zone on this is because of the genuine joy every comment/reblog/like has brought me this year as a new writer - thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the kind reception on anything I have ever posted. 🥹 ilysm 😘

Anyways, we press forward (Part 1 of Rent Free PPCU fics can be found here):

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)

Of Shadows and Roses by @the-scandalorian (Bodyguard!Din x Royalty!Reader)

All Mine by @mellowswriting (Possessive!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)

Narcissus by @bits-and-babs (Armour/mirror sex)

Looking out for you by @beskarandblasters (Jealous!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)

Cherry Liqueur by @decembermidnight (Reader teases Mando in public)

Breaking in the New House by @beskarandblasters (I love Husband!Din and Wife!Reader fics)

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Sweet Dreams by @javiscigarette (Javi can't sleep)

Phone Sex...amiright? by @tightjeansjavi (Reader calls Javi at work)

Sharing is Caring by @ezrasversion (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)

The Saint, the Sinner, and the Devil by @joelsgirl (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, DBF Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)

MIA by @itsharleystuff (Jealous!Javi with Undercover!Reader)

Surprising Javi P with a Lingerie Set by @swiftispunk

Not here...not now by @gracieispunk (Reader visits Javi at work)

Bunny by @whatsnewalycat (Sex Phone Operator!Reader; Part 2 is great too!)

Ease by @javiscigarette (Javi takes care of Reader after a bad day)

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Say It Right, Peeping Neighbour, and Right Place, Right Time by @chaotic-mystery (All the DBF and BFD fics are amazing; these are my fave)

Quickie by @joelscruff (This falls in the middle of the Boyfriend's Dad series, but it's the first one I read and I was hooked!)

That Funny Feeling by @bluebeary-jay (Joel loves pet names 🥹)

I've Got Lust on My Tongue by @itgetsdark-x (Bratty reader a la Maddy Perez)

The Babysitter, Part 1 by @proxima-writes (There's a Part 2 as well!)

Under the Table by @toxicanonymity (A lot of good Joelkemons, but Speakeasy is a classic and maybe my fave?)

Online Friends, Sticking it to the PTA, and Caught Sunbathing by @walkintotheriveranddisappear (All of Emma's Joel fics are really hot [honestly you can't go wrong], but these are my faves)

Late Night Smoke by @bettercallwillow (Dbf smoking. sigh)

Calling Joel Daddy by @inkedells (I honestly love it when authors bold the dirty talk 🤭)

Gimme What I Want and In the Next Room by @atticrissfinch (The masterlist is some of the hottest Joel fic, if I may say so; these are my faves)

An Open Window by @velvetmud (Joel being a peeping tom; I also always hope for a sequel to this one!)

Crave by @toxic-seduction (Part 2; Reader finds Joel in the QZ)

Good Luck Charm by @javiscigarette (Joel watches the football game)

Ravish by @psychedelic-ink (Webcam Model!Reader; Part 2 is also incredible!)

I Know it When I see It by @bageldaddy (Pornstars!Joel and Readers. This series has me and everyone else, I think, in a chokehold. Reading, as well, the writer's thoughts and feelings about the porn industry and the care put into the characters is such a joy and makes the fic that much more rich)

Chaser series by @livingemkayde (Nanny!Reader and a love triangle; not finished but so good I'm happy to wait forever)

Right my Wrongs by @chloeangelic (Father in Law!Joel)

In A Feud with Her Neighbour by @proxima-writes (Read this delicious fic and the bonus scenes will be the icing on top)

Kiss and Tell by @toxic-seduction (Stepdad!Joel and mom goes away for the weekend)

Peaches and Cream by @javiscigarette (Joel buys reader peaches)

Didn't Cha Know by @chloeangelic (The Joel Reader has been pining for is her boyfriend's brother)

Gif to breakup the text block:

Camgirl by @phuckinphia (Another Camgirl but this time she's Sarah's friend 🫣)

The Right Wrong Number by @proxima-writes (Sarah's soccer coach!Reader)

Nightmares by @fruispunk (QZ!Reader has nightmares that Joel hears and mistakens for something else)

Damage Done by @bluebeary-jay (Joel accidentally triggers Reader; mind the tags. Heavy angst, heavy topic that is beautifully written)

Yes, Mr. Miller by pedropascallme (Babysitter!Reader, Part 2 Thank You, Mr. Miller is also excellent)

How Long series by @gracieheartspedro (Link is to Part 1; series is complete and wonderfully hot and emotional. Reader's boyfriend Tommy is a cheat😢)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)

Fictional Death by @psychedelic-ink (Frankie comforts Reader)

Well Fed by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (Frankie is HAPPY 🥹)

Forest Ranger AU by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (I'm not an outdoorsy person but this AU makes me wish I was)

It's Always the Quiet Ones by @thot-of-khonshu (Frankie surprises Reader)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Kinktober 2022 - Breeding by @moralesispunk (Guard!Pero and Royalty!Reader)

Bodily Exchange by @absurdthirst (Mafia AU!Pero and daughter of mafia boss Reader)

Damnation or Salvation by @absurdthirst (Pero is sent to retrieve Reader)

Dying Wish by @absurdthirst (Pero makes Reader's father a promise; okay at this point, just all of Keri's Pero fics 🤭)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Beat Poetry on Amphetamines by @psychedelic-ink (Marcus comes home hurt)

#fic rec list #fic rec #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #pero tovar #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #marcus moreno #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno fic