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ironmandeficiency · 2 years

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pedro boys + at the pool

pedro boys included: oberyn, javi p, frankie, max, pero, jack, javi g

word count: 789

summary: just modern au thoughts on how some of the boys would act at the pool

a/n: this is not what i thought i’d be writing rn tbh but at least it’s something. there should be more content besides this posted by the end of the week

oberyn — this cheeky bastard can hold his breath for longer than humanly normal & uses this ability to dive under & scare you from behind. is also one of the best at packing snacks and typically has a frozen cocktail or wine within reach at all times, probably munching on a handful of berries (either blackberries or green grapes usually). will be the last one in the pool long after most think it’s too cold or too late. makes the BEST pool day playlist you’ve ever heard & it keeps the vibes high the whole time. any party hosted by oberyn is guaranteed to be an absolute rager & that sentiment never disappoints.

javi p — doesn’t take his shades off for anything. usually relaxing in a donut floatie with a beer (water if you fuss at him enough) in hand, but can be convinced to get in more if the water feels nice. enjoys sunbathing like a lizard & never needs sunscreen; he just tans and looks like a god afterward. just for the sake of laughter, he will push you into the water and laugh when you sputter indignantly at him. you quickly forgive him once you see his smile, knowing that those used to be much harder to bring to the surface.

frankie — he’s also a floatie guy & will be much more relaxed with his little girl sitting on it with him. otherwise he’s sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, hyper vigilant in case she needs him. she won’t need him, simply because frankie put her in swim classes as soon as she was old enough to learn & might as well be a fish. he brings extra towels, sunscreen, drinks, popsicles, snacks, and even another pair of sandals. the delta guys laugh at his overpacking… until that uncrustable starts calling their name (cough cough BENNY cough). does enjoy a good chicken fight once he’s got a beer in him. it’s either him & benny against will & santi, or any combination of them against baby girl morales (the defeats here are extra dramatic and it makes her laugh every time).

max — he won’t swim in a public pool. period. he will refuse & fight the idea until hell freezes over. instead, he will either charm someone into letting you both use their pool, or will have a private indoor pool built exclusively for your shared use. this also eliminates the need for sunscreen or worrying about privacy. gets a hot tub built in too & it’s hard to convince him to get out of it most times. will paint the bottom of the pool black and it’s such a trip the first several times you swim in it.

pero — it takes a lot to convince him to actually swim, the spaniard much more content to lounge in the sunshine. one run-in with a sea urchin on the valencia coast made him reasonably apprehensive of swimming in large bodies of water. to him, other people’s unattended children can pose the same level of danger & annoyance as various sea creatures. will swim when it’s almost empty of people, enjoying the solitude that comes with calmer waters. he floats on his back just relaxing, but the moment you dunk him, it’s game on and he fights dirty.

jack — him at the pool can be summarized in one word: showoff. he is proud that he can still flip off the edge & will gladly brag about this feat. if there’s a diving board, even better. he is a champion at playing chicken and every non-newbie statesman agent learned the hard way at a summer retirement party for agent lager. was not allowed to be in charge of the playlist after that party because it did not go well (he played “what’s new pussycat” by tom jones on repeat for 20 minutes because of an inside joke). when he’s finally ready to relax, he chills on a massive floatie with a drink in both cup holders and a straw cowboy hat on his head (think kenny chesney vibes).

javi g — he hosts the BEST pool parties hands down. everyone in attendance is always kind because javi prioritizes everyone feeling safe while having fun & security takes their job very seriously when it comes to not tolerating bullshit. plenty of snacks and drinks (alcoholic & otherwise) are provided for everyone, and the music is the perfect mix of hype and chill to keep the vibes just right. there are fairy lights and torches scattered around, and a cabana exclusively for when you and javi sneak away from the hubbub to find some privacy. when a few stragglers wake up on his floor the morning after, he provides them with breakfast & money for a ride home like a gentleman.

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absurdthirst · 2 years

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Can I request a headcanon for how good or bad each of the Pedro character are at helping around the house? I'm thinking Marcus Pike is great with chores but probably can't cook (I always remember him eating takeout or diner food in the show) and Max Philips definitely hires a cleaning service.

Helping Around The House:

Javier: Did you see how clean his apartment could be? This man helps out. He’s not the typical bachelor slob and that transfers over into a relationships. Come on? That toothbrush cup and his razor was neatly placed on the little mirror ledge. However, he does NOT cook. You don’t want him to. This man burned water, literally started reading a report and boiled all the water out of the pot and scorched it. But he won’t complain about a hot dog if you really don’t cook either.

Ezra: Ummmm, you guys don’t have much. Your pod is nice and neat, but thats by necessity. There’s not a whole hell of a lot that you carry that isn’t for survival, so there isn’t a lot of mess. However, he does set up the camp marvelously efficiently. Cooking isn’t any better either. Those Nutri packs or bars is about as fancy as it gets when you are roughing it out on the Green.

Mando: Mando is....militaristic. Everything has a place but beyond the neatly organized weapons locker, he’s not exactly domestic? Like meals are broths or packaged meals. The Crest has cargo containers with stuff, but it’s all organized so he knows exactly where everything is when he needs it. It’s more about you staying out of things than anything else honestly. At least at the beginning. You start bringing things in the ship, making him sigh and start reorganizing to find a place for it. Although he was really upset when the Crest was destroyed because you lost all your stuff.

Frankie: He was in the military. The man knows how to keep an area clean. Things are not white glove clean since the baby, but he helps out. There's not really a chore list between the two of you. It’s just more of a ‘if it needs doing at that moment, do it’ type of attitude. He’s not going to ignore a full dishwasher or dryer because that’s ‘your’ chore. Although all the small fix it type chores around the house are his. He doesn’t trust you not to lose his tools. 😂

Tovar: You are kidding right? He is a man, his job is to provide for you. Your job is to take what he’s provided and turn it into a warm and welcoming home for him. It’s the time of course that lends him to adhere to this ideal of what the roles are. HOWEVER...this man also chops the wood and hauls the water, literally builds the house, breaks the ground for the garden every spring, and takes care of the hunting the meat. It’s not that he doesn’t help you, it’s more that you each play your roles very well and they compliment each other.

Agent Whiskey: Jack absolutely hires a cleaning service. He’s never home. Always away on missions. And when he is home, he wants to spend every moment he can with his sugar, not worrying about cleaning a house. He has someone come in every couple of days to take care of the cleaning so you don’t have to worry about. Although, when he’s home, Jack will fire up the grill to make you a mean ribeye to go with that bottle of Statesman.

Max Phillips: Cleaning service. You really think he’s going to clean up all that blood? Although it’s more that he turned the cleaning lady into a vampire. Hasn’t cooked since he's become a vampire, so you are on your own with that. Just, dear God, go easy on the garlic. That shit stinks.

Marcus Pike: Of course Marcus will help. He’s going to assist any way that he can, maybe take on the chores that you hate the most because it will make you happy. Chore chart? Would that make it easier? Whatever it is, he’s in this 50/50. Although....he can order a mean take out, he cannot cook - bless him. Maybe a cooking lesson as a date night?

Oberyn: Chores? Things around the castle? That’s the servants responsibilities. Your job it so be by his side and his job is to do a lot of things, but none of them require either one of you to worry about washing clothes or preparing food. Your days of thinking you will live a hard life breaking your back for some shit lord are over.

Dave York: He takes the trash out. When he’s in town. Honestly, with his schedule, he knows that a lot of the day to day gets put on your shoulders. He appreciates that, so when he is home on the weekends, he gives the girls strict instructions that they aren’t to bother you with anything, Mr. Mom mode is activated. It’s the least he can do for you holding down the fort while he was out being sexy murder daddy.

Zach: What are you talking about? You barely do anything. Zach is so damn proud of having a roof over his head, he’s going to be hard pressed to let you do anything. Seriously. He loves the fact that he has a place to clean and chores to do in order to maintain a home. It takes a little while and a few arguments to get him to relinquish the almost iron grip he has over the household cleaning.

Marcus Moreno: He’s honesty relieved to have a little help with the household chores to be honest. Missy has her chores, but he’s so very happy to have help with cooking and just the general cleaning of the house. Just tell him how to you want to pitch in and he will make sure that he tells you how much he appreciates it.

Max Lord: To be honest, Max isn’t present even when he’s at home. He’s in his home office, working, burying his head in paperwork to find that dream stone. His dreams for you, for Alistair hinge on him finding that artifact and making sure that he has everything he’s ever wanted, and that he can give you the world. Sitting in his paper littered office, he doesn’t understand that you want him to help now, with the little things. Taking out the trash is more important that the riches he seeks in your eyes. He just can’t see it.

Javi G: Javi doesn’t clean. Not because he’s an ass, but that is what they have hired people to do. He doesn’t make intentional messes, he cleans up after himself and he doesn’t leave his clothes scattered floor everywhere, but it’s just not on his radar to do chores. However, he does clean his memorabilia room himself. Does that count?

Dieter: Cleaning??? The only cleaning this man does is when he cuts neat little lines in his cocaine to snort up. He’s living in hotels most of the year and then when he’s home, he’s got the most amazing housekeeper at his house in Sherman Oaks. She comes in everyday and is witness to what a messy slob Dieter can be. This man child is absolutely useless with domesticity.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character headcanons #javier peña headcanon #ezra prospect headcanon #the mandalorian headcanons #pero tovar headcanon #frankie morales headcanons #agent whiskey headcanons #max phillips headcanon #Marcus Pike headcanon #oberyn martell headcanons #Dave York headcanon #zach wellison headcanon #max lord headcanon #Marcus Moreno headcanon #javi gutierrez headcanon #dieter bravo headcanon

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swiftispunk · 10 months

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here's a horny joel thought i've been having. or like. i've been thinking of smut written from joel's pov?? like it could still be reader ig, but we're in his head, and he's experiencing it?? what would that be like 😳 could obvi also be for any chatacter not just joel!!

holding back - a drabble

A/N: this was just sitting in my drafts so here it is

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: ~800 warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), piv, some dirty talk (joel having an uncontrollable filthy mouth), pet names (sweetheart, baby), little bit of insecure!joel, almost spanking but not really. no use of y/n.

He's supposed to be taking his time.

That's what he always tells himself he's gonna do - take it slow, savour it, be gentle.

He's kept it together long enough to make sure you get off, but he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been aching just from the chance to touch you, taste you, pleasure you.

The sound of his name on your lips when you'd come against his mouth had nearly taken him out, delighted little moans of his own echoing yours as his cock had strained against his boxers, stiff and leaking.

He loves that part, loves knowing he'd made you come undone, that it had been his name you'd cried out, his mouth that had coaxed you to that perfect, beautiful place.

Your climax is confirmation he's still good for something.

He rides that high as he strips down and climbs over your shuddering form, positioning his arms on either side your head. He bends forward to lick into your waiting mouth, to let you taste yourself on his tongue.

He attempts to relax, to take a moment to gently run his hands up your sides and feel the soft skin of your belly, to properly appreciate the spread of your thighs and the lax, suppliant parting of your lips.

But of course he can't do that - instead, his touch is fierce and needy, all fingernails and calloused palms; his eyes graze over you like you're the first meal he's seen in weeks, lustful and impatient. He’s forcing your legs apart so wide your hips are probably straining.

And then, like it often does, filth tumbles from his mouth as though someone else were speaking through him.

"Want this cock, baby?" he hears himself saying gruffly. "Gonna be good for me?"

The sweet chime of you whimpering beneath him only further clouds his thoughts, only makes it that much harder for him to remember to take it slow.

"Please, Joel," you beg softly, staring up at him with nothing but want, want, want and he can't - he can't fucking wait anymore.

The air leaves his lungs in a ragged exhale before he's lining himself up with your centre. His aging heart pangs with anticipation, arousal stewing in his guts when the tip of his cock hits the warm wet of your cunt.

Slow, slow, slow, he has to remind himself. You're always eager to be full of him - always manage his cock so fucking well - but he knows his size is a lot to take, always catches that minute contortion of your features when he sinks his length into you.

He sees it now, the way your eyebrows knit together, the way your mouth falls open and your breathing goes shallow when he slides the tip inside your walls.

But then you quietly plead with him for, "More," and who is he to deny you?

He buries himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, falling forward to connect his lips with yours. You groan into each other's mouths, Joel's mind momentarily going blank when he feels you flutter around him, the sheathing warmth of your cunt exactly what he needs to finally let go.

"So fuckin' tight, sweetheart," he growls wildly into your neck as he begins to move in and out of you - already too fast. "This perfect fuckin' pussy, so wet and ready for me, huh? Always so ready, so goddamn good for me. Feel that? Huh? You like bein' full of this cock?"

He thinks he sounds like a goddamn madman but you just squirm and moan and keen, your fingers exploring his arms curiously, eyes fixed on his weathered face. He can never understand what it is you see there that makes you look so...hungry.

He tries with all his might to make it last, to slow the snap of his hips into yours and loosen the bruising grip he has on your rib cage. His eyes squeeze shut and his head falls back but your voice, once again, shatters his resolve.

"Joel," you whisper. "It's okay. Please, Joel. Take me how you want me."

A strange and sinister noise erupts from his chest at the offer. He's too far gone to argue, too far gone to question if you really mean it.

He hurriedly pulls out to flip you on to all fours, marvelling briefly at the curve of your spine, his hand coming down on the flesh of your ass to squeeze, hard. You sigh dreamily at the contact and it’s the match in the powder barrel.

Fuck taking his time, he decides.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller smut #tlou smut #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #ziggy tag #ask #request #me just expanding on my headcanon that joel gets unconsciously carried away when he’s fuckin #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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It's Never Too Late Masterlist

Summary: You are an elementary school teacher who just moved to Texas for a fresh start when you meet a very handsome man from the Laredo Sheriff's Department coming to give your class a presentation.

After your co-workers pull some strings for you to meet again, you and Javier Peña find yourselves falling head over heels for each other.

Story takes place post Narcos Season 3 in Laredo, Texas, starting May 1997.

Paring: Javier Peña x OFC (Reader is an elementary school teacher whose nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+ chapters containing marked with * and each chapter will also have its own warnings), language, fluff, romantic comedy, reader has physical descriptions, Javi being so soft and getting all the love and affection he deserves, you two being the biggest weirdos so in love

Status: Ongoing

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for new chapters as they come out! :)

Main Story:

Chapter 1: I D.A.R.E. You

Chapter 2: What's Cookin', Good Lookin'?

Chapter 3: I Wanna Be With You Everywhere*

Chapter 4: Add You To My List*

Chapter 5: You're The One That I Want*

Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!*

Chapter 7: School's Out for Summer*

Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy*

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña*

Chapter 9: I Promise*

Chapter 10: Happy Birthday, Javi*

Pt. 1*

Pt. 2*

Chapter 11: Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago *

Chapter 12: I Love You. I Know. *

Chapter 13: There's No Place Like Home*

Chapter 14: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas*

Chapter 15: She Shoots, She Scores*

Chapter 16: The Lone Star State*

Chapter 17: No Ifs, Ands, Or Butts*

Chapter 18: Hole in None*

Chapter 19: Good Luck, and Goodnight*

Chapter 20: I Do

Pt. 1*

Pt. 2*

Spin-Off Series:

Forever and Always*: Slices of life following the Peña family after their first child

One Shots (In chronological order of the main storyline):

Movie Night*

Dirty Laundry*

Again*

You're My Home*

Not Yet*

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña*

The Mouse and the Motorcycle

You Make Life Worth It

Take Me Home

Plaid Pajama Morning

Agent Peña*

Every Inch*

Soup for Breakfast

Whatever My Wife Wants*

Oh, Baby

Peanut Butter and Pickles

Asks/Headcannons:

Javi and Osita before work

Javi's DEA Jacket

Javi's Tac Vest

Javi and Osita when they argue

Javi being distractingly cute

Javi when he's sick

Osita when she's pregnant

Osita after a bad day at work

Javi coming home after work to his kids

Extras:

NSFW Alphabet- Javi and Osita

1K Followers Celebration Asks and Answers

Never Too Late Playlist

Mood board

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loquaciousferret · 1 year

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Home for the Weekend

Starring dbf!Joel / neighbour!Joel

Warnings: Strictly 18+ smut, rough sex, degradation/ dirty talk/ teasing, spanking, sir!kink, unspecified age gap, unprotected sex

Word Count: 550 (just a drabble)

A/N: Let me know if anyone wants more of this universe 🥹

“Had to come back didn’t you? Those college boys not good enough?” He taunts.

He was especially vocal today, especially relentless in his teasing. It was your own fault for asking him to pick you up from the bar in your hometown because your dad was gone on a work trip and you couldn’t bear to justify the price of an uber.

That’s where Joel was useful.

If the only price to pay was mindblowing sex… well, you weren’t going to complain.

“Huh? Come back just to see me?” He says.

He was pounding into you on the sofa after he insisted on walking you all the way in to make sure you were “safe”.

Luckily the house was empty and you were able to be unrestricted in your volume. Not that you would have much power to help yourself anyway, the cruel pace and force of his hips slamming into you causing you to cry out repeatedly.

“Joelll-“ You moan loudly. He slaps your ass and you yelp.

“Don’t say my name. Answer me.” He demands.

“Y-Yes, I-“ You interrupt yourself with a cry you can’t hold back. “I came back j- just for this, just for you.”

“I know you did.” He grunts. “Need it so bad don’t you? Hm?”

You focus on the feeling of the pleasure, ignoring him again. This earns you a harsher slap this time.

“Speak when spoken to.” He orders, his tone irritated at what he perceived as disrespect from you for not responding.

“Yes, Sir.” You cry out.

His pace falters for the first time.

“Say that again.” He grunts.

It had slipped out, due to his harsh tone. You had never called him that before. But he seemed to like it.

“Please, Sir. I need it- I nee-“ You cry out, an animalistic sound that comes from deep within you as he pierces you with his cock, splitting you open as he fucks you from behind roughly.

“That’s it baby, talk to me.” He praises, his tone softer now. “Tell me what you need.”

“Need y- you. Need you to fuck me, Sir, please, don’t stop. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You need it? You need me to fill you up? Huh?”

“Yes- Oh!” He slams into you with somehow even more force. Lewd sounds fill the air of skin slapping and both of your moans. “Please, Sir, need your cum. Please-“

Suddenly he is gripping your hair and pulling you backwards so he can sit on the sofa and have you ride him. Your legs are weak and shaking so he lifts you up himself, bouncing you on his cock and slamming you back down at exactly the pace he desired.

He kisses at your shoulders and the back of your neck, nipping occasionally with his teeth.

A few more piercing thrusts upwards and he is shooting his release deep inside of you. He sinks you back down onto his cock, leaving you stuffed full of his seed as well as his hard length.

You stay there, weak in his lap, and he grows slightly caring, stroking the hair out of your face and rubbing your shoulders as his cock starts to soften inside you.

“How long you home for?” He asks quietly.

“Till Monday.” You say back.

“Your Dad’s gone till Tuesday.” He remarks.

You nod. You know Joel won’t leave you alone until you go back to college. He has started the weekend as he meant to go on.

#joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #neighbour!joel #dilf!joel #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #pedro pascal fanfiction

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secretly-dum · 1 year

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Joel Miller Headcanons

(please read warning/contents before reading)

pairing: joel miller x reader

request: none

summary: nothing, just some ‘regular’ headcanons

warning/contents: romantic SFW and NSFW hcs (part 1?)

additional notes: here you guys go <3 I’m so sorry for being demotivated but fortunately not enough to not do this!! Thank you all for being patient with me <3

«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

In a relationship with Joel (SFW):

-Would be so possessive around you in public, his hands would HAVE to be somewhere on you, to having your hand hold his to having his shoulder touching his.

-He’s soft in private, this man is TIRED of life and just wants you to be his cuddle buddy.

-Talking about cuddles, he LOVES to cuddle, especially when it’s cold and he needs to “warm up”(an excuse to sleep with you)

-But of course since this is Joel we are talking about, he acts ignorant and pretends that he doesn’t like cuddling(mostly because he doesn’t like showing his soft side to you, so reassure him that you won’t make fun of him for that)

-One time he needed to “warm up” so he slept beside you not touching you at all and when you woke up his leg was over yours and his arm was wrapped around you(he also refused that it was himself doing this and said that he ‘moves’ in his sleep).

-His love language is definitely words of affirmation and physical touch.

-He is SO deprived of both, if you even show an inch of both his heart literally just melts.

-PLEASE play with his hair, seeing his face hide his cute smile is so heartwarming.

-Uses so many pet names to refer to you, you can’t even count anymore, and some of them don’t even make sense(he called you ‘honeysuckle’ once).

-Will do anything in his way to protect, heal, and love you. This one guy is bothering you? All of a sudden he’s gone. You have a horrible wound? He’s stocked up with medicine immediately. You like figurines/toys? Will kill anyone and anything to get you a single figure/toy.

-Is more of a listener than a talker, he loves listening to you talk about your day and interests.

-Goes to you or Ellie every time he has free time, you guys are LITERALLY his world.

-Forces himself to understand confusing concepts of your interests if it means interacting with you.

-Hates it when you’re sad since he’s really not the best comforter, doesn’t know what exactly to do when you cry so he just holds you while you cry into him, it somehow works making you feel better every time.

-Goes to you and tests out his 4 dad jokes before telling them to Ellie, you always have to hold in your giggle when he’s trying to tell the jokes to Ellie.

-You and Ellie’s needs are in front of his, he could be on the brink of death but still do anything in his way to make sure you both are healthy and safe.

-Secretly thinks of you as Ellie’s parent, and sometimes makes up cute scenarios that make you all three look like a small family in his head (this hc makes me sob)

-At the start of the relationship he was hesitant to showing/expressing his feelings, but now since boundaries are set and he’s more comfortable, he will always tell you whether or not he’s feeling negative.

-Watches you as you sleep but not in a creepy way, he always have thoughts that make him think you’ll die in your sleep so he’ll stay up an extra few minutes to make sure your safe. He loves how comfortable and dreamy you look.

-If you make something for him, whether it be a joke or not, he’ll always keep it on him. You gave him a nut and made some stupid joke? It’s on top of his dresser with other things you and Ellie have gave him.

-Definitely gives you something back, if you keep it and he sees it somewhere he smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

In a relationship with Joel (NSFW):

-I don’t care what ANYONE says this man is a switch who prefers to be a bottom.

-Despite him being strong physically and emotionally, he’s always so vulnerable and obedient to you.

-Won’t do any slapping, choking, and hitting to you unless you ask/tell him to, but nevertheless he will lightly hit you, feels weird to hit his lover.

-Will be quiet if you guys are in a slightly unsafe area, but will scream your name if you guys are in either his or your home.

-Did I mention how he won’t slap, choke, or hit you unless you ask? You can do all three to him and he’ll still say thank you (one time you asked him why he won’t do the same hitting to you and he said “It’s not the same” 😭)

-Whimpers and whines like a bitch, it’s incredibly pornographic and I’m wondering to this day who taught him to make such angelic noises.

-Begs and obeys, can’t be brat unless you catch him on a real bad day or he just wants a punishment from you.

-Doesn’t do any risky stuff like getting you pregnant or hurt but will gladly let you fuck him in a spot that could get you guys caught.

-If he’s being dominant, he will be a soft dominant, Joel once said “he loves you too much to be doing such ‘harsh’ things to you” (unless you ask him to!)

-Pussy AND cock drunk, he’s addicted to you and your pussy/dick. Would be licking/sucking you for hours if he could (bisexual!joel is real).

-Overstimulation kink, which goes for both ways if you want. He loves it when he says he can’t take it anymore and you say he can.

-Your touch lingering over his body has him so turned on, the anticipation of how you’ll touch him turns him on so bad.

-Loves it when you mark him, bites, hickeys and etc. If you mark him on somewhere visible, he’ll show it off like a trophy.

-Likes bondage, seeing you all tied up and the curves of your body being more visible to him has him in a chokehold.

-He tells you that you taste so sweet and good, even if you haven’t showered that day(let’s be honest barely anyone showers in TLOU anymore)

-For some weird reason, seeing you sweat or have someone else’s blood on you turns him on a lot. Something about seeing you like that makes him want to fuck you right then and there.

«──────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

#joel miller #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x male reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #sub joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal

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lionlena · 10 months

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Headcanon: What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤

Joel Miller

He likes you to be a "big" spoon. He wants you to cuddle up to his back, while he's facing the door/danger. This is how he protects you.

He will prefer this position even in the open space.

He's so used to it that even when you're awake, like lying on the couch, he prefers you behind his back.

He constantly intertwines his hand with yours.

He will purr with pleasure if you kiss his neck just before falling asleep.

He'll always keep you warm.

Javier Pena

Javi likes you to be a "little" spoon. He loves to wrap his strong arms around you and pull you to his chest. He will kiss the bare skin of your arms, and your neck and whisper sweet words: "hermosa, cariño, mi dulce..."

He loves the smell of your shampoo, so he often falls asleep with his nose in your hair.

He will always make sure you have as many soft pillows as you need.

Oberyn Martell

Oberyn doesn't have a favorite position. In fact, he's fine with anything as long as you're close to him.

However, he likes it when you fall asleep with your head on his chest. Then, he will stroke your back with one hand and comb your hair with the other.

If he is sad he prefers when you lie on your back and he will put his head on your stomach. If you start stroking his hair you will help him calm down and then he will start kissing your belly.

He always buys you the most expensive blankets and pillows made of the best material.

Javi Gutierrez

He loves to sleep face-to-face. It's just your face is the last thing he needs to see before falling asleep and the first thing he needs to see when he wakes up.

Of course, he pulls you close to him so that your noses are touching. His hands grip your sides, but never too tight.

Sometimes he also likes when your legs are intertwined together.

Javi G is a cuddly octopus 😍

Din Djarin

Din treats you like his personal weighted blanket. He sleeps on his back and pulls your whole body to his chest. He needs to feel your weight. Maybe it's because he's used to the weight of the armor?

He loves it when your head is right under his chin.

He always holds you tight, and if he senses you're having a bad dream, he'll start humming softly and won't stop until he's sure you're sleeping peacefully again.

Ok, now I'm going to sleep ;)

Which of the boys is your favorite?

Headcanon: How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal headcanon #joel miller #the last of us #javier pena #narcos #oberyn martell #the game of thrones #javier gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent #din djarin #the mandalorian #i need my cuddle bear #to sleep

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lokischocolatefountain · 10 months

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Hiii if you’re still taking requests, could we have more angsty, jealous Javier? You write his character so good, i love all of it!!! Your married series was absolutely fantastic <3

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. The women he’s with have multiple partners beside him- they’re informants, sex workers, and a lot of times both. He’s no juvenile and doesn’t expect them to not do their job because he can’t share. Besides, there’s a clear transaction with these women- sex in exchange for dollar bills, intelligence in exchange for a visa.

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. At least he doesn’t think he is until he’s with her (the professor he ends up marrying). The relationship starts out casual. She’s a beautiful woman who frequents the restaurant he frequents. They do the decent mating dance of flirtation and buying each other coffee before he takes her back to her place and fucks her thoughts out of her head.

He makes it clear to her that he isn’t looking for something serious. He hasn’t told her the exact nature of her job, but she knows. She has seen the gun on him. She has seen him on a raid, tactical vest on and hand enclosed around his gun. She kicks him out, but only after giving him a kiss and telling him she’d like to do this again. They were on the same page. Until they weren’t.

He’s bad at drawing boundaries. He kissed prostitutes on the forehead, asked them about their young kids and ailing parents, let them drone on about their hopes and dreams. Sure it was important to cultivate a relationship with his informants so that when things got dangerous, they would continue to… inform. But he enjoyed it. He liked knowing the women he slept with, liked asking questions and answering their questions. It was the only human thing left in his life full of violence.

He cannot draw boundaries with her at all. He eats from her refrigerator, drinks her liquor and lies down on her lap and lets her read English literature to him. He picks her up from work sometimes and drops her back the morning after. He fixes her faulty plumbing without even being asked. He finds her carrying heavy bags of groceries and offers to drive her to her place. He takes her grocery shopping and restocks her fridge. He tells himself it’s because he eats so much of her food. Just repaying her.

He’s picking her up from work one night. It boils his blood to learn that he isn’t the only one waiting in the parking area for her. There’s another guy, a professor like her, and he walks with her to his car. He should’ve driven away as soon as he noticed her with another man. But he doesn’t. He stares hard enough to burn a hole in the dress she wore when he first slept with her. It was flattering on her figure, highlighting her best assets— her entire goddamn body. Clearly she wore this dress when she was hoping to get laid. He drives away before she could notice him. He finds someone else that night. Plenty of fish in the sea, right? Except he screams her name when he’s balls deep in Helena.

She’s at their restaurant the next morning, having breakfast and drinking coffee like she didn’t go fuck someone else just last night. He sits at his old table instead of joining her like he always did. She looks a little hurt by it, but quickly fixes her expression to smile at him. Good. Be hurt. He is aware he’s being irrational. And a pig. She was free to sleep with all of Bogotá if she wished. God knows he did. She wasn’t doing anything wrong just like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But he’s angry at her anyway.

Work takes him to Medellin for days and when he returns, he finds himself at her doorsteps. He feels right at home in her arms, in her pussy, and he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to get up and leave even though everything in him is begging him to leave before it was too late. He struggles between the rational part of him that knows it’s best to leave and the irrational one that wants to pull her to his chest and fall asleep breathing her in. She makes the decision for him.

She’d asked in the nicest possible way to fuck right off. Well, not really. But she might as well have kicked him out. She asks for clarification “what are we doing, Javi?” There is it, he thinks. He was always clear about his intentions with women, but he’s had a few of them believe that they could “fix” him. Whatever the hell that meant. And he had to break their heart, tell them it was just sex like they’d originally agreed. But she surprises him.

She calls him out on his shit, tells him he’s giving her mixed signals with taking her grocery shopping and meeting her up at work. She tells him he can’t have it both ways. “I have a date with a colleague this Sunday. It’ll be weird if I’m with him, thinking about how sweet it was of you to take my car for an oil change. That’s not umm…it’s not fuckbuddy stuff.” It’s boyfriend stuff.

Her drawing the boundaries for him should’ve helped. But god it doesn’t. All he wants to do that week is walk into her university campus and punch that fucker who was taking his girl out on a date. It was stupid, dangerous and reprehensible. But fucking hell, he couldn’t do shit while thinking about her with another man. Would she let the guy fuck her in his car like she let him? Would she cry his name? Would she accidentally let a low Javi slip out of her pretty lips out of habit?

He stops visiting the restaurant. He doesn’t need breakfast anyway. He fucks other women, fucks his own fist, but none of them come close to the euphoria of being inside her, of kissing her and drinking her moans in just as he made her cum on his cock. Nobody comes close. It’s for the best. He cannot afford emotional entanglements. It was for her good that she pulled away when she did. This was no life for anyone and attaching herself to him would mean having to endure his shit.

He can’t stop thinking about her. He freezes in the middle of the fucking street with his gun pulled on some guy because he thinks he saw her in the distance. It’s not her, he knows that. She was in Bogotá and he was in Medellin. It’s not her. But he sees her in everything. He finds himself reading fiction, for fuck’s sake. He finds her panties stuffed into the cushions of his couch and smells it to get himself off. It was creepy as shit, but it’s the hardest he’s come since he stopped seeing her.

He drives by their restaurant and catches a glimpse of her having breakfast with that guy. At their restaurant, at their table. He’s filled with rage towards her new man, at her. How could she just take this guy to their restaurant and have breakfast at their table? Like he didn’t even fucking exist. How long had this been going on? Was it well before he saw them in the parking lot that evening? Did she bring him here whenever Javi was away in Medellin?

He brings another girl to his leather couch that night and tries not to think about how she could be at home right now, fucking her colleague in the same bed she fucked him. Did she ask him about his interests? Run her fingers through his hair? Touch his arms and tell him how strong he was? He wants to laugh at himself. Of course she didn’t do that last one. The fucker she was with had noodle arms. They wouldn’t satisfy her. He wouldn’t satisfy her. Javi knew her body in and out, knew all the right buttons to push, had her wrapped around his little finger and his cock.

Two months and he’s strong in his resolve. He still think about her, still keeps her panties tucked under his pillow like a low grade pervert, still thinks of beating the shit out of her new guy. Hell, she was probably in love with him by now. Probably a nice guy who didn’t sleep around and actually came home on time.

It’s the oddest thing that breaks him. Surveillance pictures from Escobar’s family vacation. The piece of shit has a whole wife. Keeps his mother and cousin close. Even that fucking monster had family. Doesn’t he deserve to at least take the girl he can’t get out of his head to a nice dinner? Loneliness creeps into his days and nights. No matter how many informants he beds, there’s a growing void in his chest.

Rather than drive home that night, he drives to hers. He wakes her up at an odd hour and all he can think of is whether she was in bed with the new guy when he rang the doorbell. She looked both surprised and annoyed to find him at her door. He couldn’t blame her for either of those things— he did drop off the face of the Earth and it was way past a decent hour to drop by someone’s place. He wants to hold her face in his hand and press a kiss to her lips. But he didn’t have permission for that anymore. So he just says “Dinner?”

Series Masterlist

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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

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Din Djarin: You, Me, and the Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Excerpt: “You leaned up onto your elbows to look down at him, the both of you knowing what came next. Dribbles of rain became more and more frequent upon your head, beginning to soak into your scalp, but you couldn’t feel anything else besides the excitement in your chest and the metal of your husband against your warm body. Drops of rain began to hit his helmet as well, sliding down the sides and collecting within his visor.

How long had it been since he felt a drop of rain on his skin?

He had to have noticed the desire in your eyes to complete what you had started as he covered your hands with his and pulled them up to the sharp edge of his helmet. ‘Go on, riduur,’ he whispered, ‘I’m not afraid anymore.’”

Warnings: This isn’t all SMUT, but there is a little. Reader and Din get married. Kissing, lovemaking, references to past sex, insecurities, swearing, crying, so much yearning, definitely incorrect Mandalorian marriage customs, Din gets shy when you compliment him.

A/N: This is one of my favorite fic genres for Din, I have wanted to write it for years, and many authors have done their own versions of it. I am not attempting to plagiarize or copy any of their amazing work. This is purely me wanting to do my own version on an already incredible idea.

A/N 2: Episode 1: The Apostate are we fucking kidding.

Word Count: 3k

Pedro Masterlist

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(gif from pinterest)

His gloved hand had made its way to rest against your bare hip bone, twitching every few seconds in his sleep, effectively sending chills down your spine every time. This kept you from having any sleep of your own.

You didn’t mind, not with the expanse of your Mandalorian in bed next to you, who was nothing short of breathtaking.

The lamplight washed over the metal, soaking him in a wave of sun and fire. His body facing yours gave the lighting all the more canvas to paint, stretching over the deep black of his visor, the brown of his cape, and the orange of his gloves. His body was glowing--basking-- in that cheap lamp you bartered for on Nevarro. He had rolled his eyes underneath all that glistening glory, you could tell by the way his head tilted back ever so slightly, and muttered to himself about its uselessness, thinking you didn’t notice.

But you did.

You noticed everything about him--how he moves intentionally, watches carefully, talks authoritatively...

...and groans uncontrollably when he sinks his gloved fingers inside of you.

Besides, you didn’t get the shitty lamp to see the Crest’s controls better, or find Grogu better in the dark, or even find a snack in the middle of the night. You got it for this--this post-sex euphoric haze that came over you every time he made you finish, the need to drink him up with your eyes, to observe him in is most untaught state, to witness as much of him as you possibly could, while truly seeing nothing at all.

It was right then, only for a few sinful, pathetic moments, that for the first time, the desire to see him--truly look at him--overpowered any and all of your rational thoughts. The left side of your brain was crying out at you to stop, remember his Creed, remember how much you respect it, while the right side of your brain took the opportunity to pummel your brain with everything you had been depriving yourself of for months.

How would it feel to wake up to his face every morning, see his eyes crinkle from a smile, his teeth peek out of his lips, his scruff beginning to grow in. How would he look, exactly--brown eyes or blue, or green, or hazel? Darkened skin or light, full lips or thin, thick hair or thin.

It scared you how little it mattered, but how badly you wanted to know.

How would his eyebrows squeeze together when he focused, his tongue pop out from his lips as he was thinking, or his laugh--one of his true laughs--sound without that fucking modulator. Would it be as dry as it always sounded, or would the extra oxygen in his lungs breathe life into it. Would he have dimples? Wrinkles? Endless freckles, or only a few. You hoped he had enough for you to memorize.

Would his skin be soft or rough? How calloused would his diligent hands be, or would your theory that he had a soft spot for hand lotion finally be proven true. How much did his muscles flex underneath all that armor? How sculped would he be, after carrying all that weight for all that time?

Would he let you be the first to find out?

Your free hand began moving on its own accord, slowly bringing itself up to trace a line down the front of its vizor, trying to convince itself that yes, that was skin you were feeling. That was body heat, and pores, and scruff, and lips, and a pulse underneath all that muscle. You traced his helmet so gently and so quickly that it was mere seconds before you were pulling away, feeling the exhaustion from the night’s previous activities beginning to hit you all at once. Your eyes were fluttering shut, and with one last kiss to his metallic, bitter-tasting shoulder, you were out. Out quickly enough and deep enough for you to miss Din’s whisper in reply, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead.

“One day, mesh’la. One day.”

~*~

That day had finally come.

Din’s gloved hand in yours was the only thing keeping your mind tied down to the forests of Sorgan. You were finally--finally--going to swear to the man you loved that you would love him forever, and he would to you, for all his days.

Luckily for you, Peli was kind enough to keep the kid safe on Tattooine while you and Din headed off. Din was adamant that the ceremony be special, not some random day on the Razor Crest, but on a star-filled night on Sorgan.

“That’s how I want it,” he had told you after days of pestering him, “just you, me, and the stars.”

Frankly, you just wanted him.

He led you up a small hill that led to a cleared-out field, stretching farther than you could see, and your pulse beat louder and louder as you took each step. You could only imagine how he was feeling underneath all that armor, what shade his eyes turned when he was nervous, and how you would react when you finally knew the answer.

The night air cooled you as you made your way to the top of the hill, Din guiding you to the flattest and clearest spot. He was a quiet man--always listening, always watching--but he was being abnormally quiet as you made your way to the designated spot. The creatures in the trees chirping and buzzing filled the anxious air for you.

Finally, Din stopped and faced you, taking both of your hands into his own. He gazed at you intensely, and you met it straight on. “You’re sure about this?”

You smiled softly, letting the love shine through in your eyes, and nodded. “Yes.”

He exhaled a sigh with undertones of emotions that you couldn’t quite place, and immediately started peeling the weapons off his body, one by one, placing them gently in the grass. He started with his spear, pulling it from its carrier with a familiar shling. He traced it with his palm before setting it down, and moving to his weapons belt, removing every artillery he had. Dispensing his whistling birds into the dirt, delicately. He stripped himself of any and every bit of his arsenal.

“This is the first step,” he said as he worked, “to prove that you can trust me, and to deny any ill-intent on my part.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he had already done this step in your shared bedroom. Every night. Without fail.

Once he finished, he took his hands in yours again, pulling you near. His hands had a slight shake to them, so you squeezed them tighter.

“Are you afraid, Din?” you whispered over the buzzing insects.

He said nothing as he squeezed your hands back, only breathed slowly as he looked into your eyes. You brought his hands up to your mouth and pecked his leathered knuckles, looking into his star-glazed helmet. “It’s just me and you.”

He exhaled again, but this time, you knew it was out of relief, and maybe even...excitement.

“Okay,” he whispered, his forehead inches from your own now. “Then let’s do this.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks ached. “Okay.”

Din chuckled slightly before looking down and widening his feet to match up with the length of his shoulders. He straightened up to his fullest height, allowing the stars to shimmer on his beskar that much more, causing the pounding of your heart to echo louder and louder in your skull.

You were really fucking doing this.

“Now we say the vows,” Din said, sounding out of breath. “I know you know them, but for a Mandalorian and a...non-Mandalorian...it’s tradition for the latter to repeat them back to the Mandalorian. It symbolizes your full understanding of the Creed, as well as your full acceptance of it.”

You nodded, gulping, and mimicked his stanse--strong, confident, ready. The trees around you swayed in the wind as Din gathered his breath.

“Repeat after me,” he began, taking a second to rub his thumb over your knuckles. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Din’s voice steadied as he said, “Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

“Mhu me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me'dinui an.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Mhi bar’juri verde.”

With a newfound shakiness in his voice, Din continued, stating them in your familiar tongue, “We are one when together, we are one when parted.”

“We are one when together, we are one when parted.”

“We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

The birds chirped, the insects buzzed, and one drop of rain landed on the top of Din’s helmet as he said, “We’re married.”

You didn’t hesitate to immediately jump into his arms, effectively bringing the most feared bounty hunter to the ground with you.

Tears lined your eyes as you laughed in pure ecstasy, your brain unable to process that the man in your arms was finally your riduur. Not your partner, not your boyfriend, not just your husband, your riduur. He was yours now, infinitely, endlessly, above space and time, and you were his. Din laughed loudly in your arms, just as filled with joy as you were, and you could have sworn that noise filled the hole in your heart that had been sore and empty all your life.

You leaned up onto your elbows to look down at him, the both of you knowing what came next. Dribbles of rain became more and more frequent upon your head, beginning to soak into your scalp, but you couldn’t feel anything else besides the excitement in your chest and the metal of your husband against your warm body. Drops of rain began to hit his helmet as well, sliding down the sides and collecting within his visor.

How long had it been since he felt a drop of rain on his skin?

He had to have noticed the desire in your eyes to complete what you had started as he covered your hands with his and pulled them up to the sharp edge of his helmet. “Go on, riduur,” he whispered, “I’m not afraid anymore.”

And with that, you lifted the visor from his face, carefully, using all your willpower to not shut your eyes at even a peak at his skin. Your hands shook as you lifted and your heart clogged your throat as the man you had sworn to protect, kissed until you were dizzy, and shared the darkest, most shameful parts of your being with finally hit your eyes.

Your first thought when your eyes ultimately discovered their deepest desire was that you had married the most beautiful man alive.

A blanket of thick, dark brown curls covered the top of his head, framing his face. His skin was a golden tan, highlighting his cheekbones and pink, plump lips that you had kissed so many times. His face was further framed by dark eyebrows and sculpted facial hair, as well as a prominent, strong nose. It was counteracted by a soft jawline and big, brown eyes. They were darker than you expected, an almost black, but slightly glazed by surrealness of this moment. Raindrops began to soak the curls atop his head and drip into his slightly opened mouth, drawing your attention to the one thing you were most excited about.

A small freckle, right below his chin. One of your favorite spots to kiss in the darkness of your bunk. It was just sitting there, waiting for you to memorize.

You realized soon after that the raindrops dribbling onto his cheeks weren’t rain at all, but a mixture of both his tears and yours. You let out a chuckle of disbelief. He was right here, right in front of you. Just how you had always wanted him to be.

You brushed his tears away as you whispered, “Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la.”

It turns out his eyes do crinkle when he smiles.

“That’s what you were practicing the other night?” he asked, his voice dripping with honey free from the modulator. You nodded.

He smiled wider, brushing your soaked hair from your forehead, “Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la bat brilliant.”

You couldn’t help the giggle you released at his words, nor could you prevent your lips colliding with his own. It was better than any kiss you had ever shared before.

He sighed into it as he kissed you back, the most relaxed and full of life as you had ever felt him kiss you, yet he exuded passion. His tongue caressed yours within seconds, bringing you as close to him as he possibly could. You ran your hands everywhere you possibly could--through his hair, down his neck, under his chest piece, over his cheeks. He groaned when you discovered how easy it was to scratch your nails into his hair and his scruff without the fear of opening your eyes, and you had to pull away to smile.

“I can’t stop looking at you,” you whispered, moving your kisses to the column down his neck. You felt it heat up with a blush.

“Neither can I,” he whispered, and maker his voice. His throat vibrated against your lips as he spoke. “I knew you’d be beautiful without my sensors, but I wasn’t ready for how beautiful.”

He pushed you closer to his neck as you hit his favorite spot, nibbling down just how he liked. His large hands were suddenly off of you, and a rustle of leather later, they were back on your body, gloveless. You whined into his ear when you finally felt that yes, he was obsessed with hand lotion, and his soft hands massaged into your scalp.

The rain poured harder and harder in the darkness as you and Din kissed and stroked and loved on each other. You eventually reached down to his pants, sliding your fingers down underneath. In previous years, he would fuck you, but the armor stayed on. The most skin you got to feel was his dick and his face, but both were a rarity. His goal was always to make you scream and come all over him, but now you wanted more. You wanted to drown him in your mouth and body.

“I’m on a drink,” you whispered into his mouth, feeling his happy trail against the pads of your fingers, “if you want.”

His skin and hair were soaked, but his eyes and muscles were suddenly awake, widening in excitement. “Yes,” he nodded, almost profusely, “yes.”

You pulled back and traced a line down his face, just like you did that fateful night in your bunk, only this time, you didn’t have to imagine the heat of his skin, or the look in his eyes as you pulled his pants down and yours to the side.

“Look at me,” he whispered suddenly as you lined yourself up, and you obliged. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. More than my Creed, more than my life.”

You smiled, and kissed him. “I know.”

And you slid him inside of you.

You and Din had done this before, but never enough times for you to remember what it felt like. It was a surprise to you every time, without fail, how perfectly his curve fit into you, like you were molded and crafted for one another. His girth filled you fully, threatening to flutter your eyes shut, but you kept them open. You wanted to see his face as he entered you, see his eyebrows etch together, his mouth pop open, and his Adam’s apple bob.

He really was beautiful.

The rain soaked through your clothes as you moved, keeping your mouth either on his or on his face the entire time, listening to his groans and whines for more.

“Just like that riduur fuck yeah,” he got louder and louder as he spoke, “that’s it. You’re perfect at this. At everything.”

You grinned, whispering, “you look so fucking good right now,” and proceeded to suck a hickey onto his neck.

“Stop,” he said with a chuckle, and you laughed back, marking him as yours. He sucked a few onto your collarbone soon after.

You rocked and rocked and squeezed onto him just the way he liked, getting lost in the feeling of the cool rain, his warm dick, his glorious face, and the stars in the sky, that you nearly missed his squeezes on your arm.

“I’m close,” he whispered, suddenly creeping his hand up your thigh, “I’m so close.”

“Fill me up, riduur,” you whispered, “I want to feel you for days dripping out of--”

Your breath caught as his soft finger rubbed on your clit just right, causing you to squeeze on him so deliciously. He went, and you went seconds after at the feeling of his warmth inside of you. He had never gone this far. Not once.

You practically collapsed on top of him, letting him massage your hair and rub your back as you both came down, down, down. You pressed your nose into his neck, smelling his skin. The rain made his usual lemon scented three-in-one that much more pungent.

The both of you sat in silence for a few moments, letting the last of the rain dribble down on you, your heartrates steady, and your brain process the fact that everything about that moment was pure and real and just an inkling of the rest of your lives. The rain slowly came to a stop, and Din chuckled, making you chuckle.

“So now it stops,” he laughed, and you sat up to meet his eyes.

“I liked it. You look hot in the rain.”

He looked down with a blush on his face, “Good, because you look freezing.”

You hadn’t noticed your teeth beginning to chatter. “I’m fine.”

He shook his head and lifted you off of him, your mewl at his exit from your body borderline pathetic, and kept you lifted with one arm while he pulled up his pants with the other. He helped you pull up yours before positioning you bridal style in his arms as he began the walk back to the Crest.

“Din, your helmet, and your things--”

“Don’t need them,” he whispered as he walked, holding you close to his chest. “Not around you. Not anymore.”

Mando’a Translations:

“Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la.” -- My riduur is beautiful.

“Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la bat brilliant.” -- My riduur is beautiful and brilliant.

Taglist: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel l @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679 @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @darthvadersource -voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @cockscombkingdom

@lexloon @pauphs @enjoyyourlatte

@miss-goldenweek @darlingmurdock @1deadpool26 @queen-nothing @burnt-dorito @untitledarea @julialoopeezz @aninnai

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thefrogdalorian · 5 months

Text

Din Djarin + Falling in Love Headcanons

You fall first (of course you do, have you seen him!) but Din falls harder.

It takes him a while though, the loss of his parents affected him so much that it takes a lot for him to open up let others in.

For a while after you first meet, you're not sure if he reciprocates your feelings towards him. But then something happens where you're placed in danger. The way it makes him feel (once he's killed a few people to ensure your safety) proves to himself that his feelings run deeper for you than he'd wanted to admit to himself.

If that hadn't happened, perhaps the two of you would've continued to skate around the topic for a while. You were too shy to bring things up and ruin your friendship, Din was convinced that you could never feel the same way about him.

After Din confesses his feelings, the first time you tell him that you love him too, he's so taken aback and flustered he replies something dorky like "wizard."

LOTS of blushing and nervousness the first time he takes his helmet off around you. He can't even make eye contact for a while after he takes it off because he's so shy. He has no idea how handsome he is, no one has ever complimented him on his looks before which you, of course, do plenty of. Making up for lost time, naturally.

You find his moustache adorable, that he keeps it so neat despite the fact that only he can see it due to his helmet. He tells you he keeps it because it's one of the few things he remembers about his father and you just about melt right then and there.

Obviously due to his Creed, he never kissed anyone before. So at first, it's kind of clumsy and you vow to be patient. But once he gets the hang of it, you never look back.

You know Din Djarin throws himself into anything he puts his mind to with nothing less than one hundred percent and BOY, was it worth you being so understanding with him.

Despite how most of the galaxy would view him as nothing but a tough bounty hunter, you feel honoured that you get to know the soft, caring man that he is beneath the Beskar shell. You never take it for granted how much he has opened up you since you first met him.

#I JUST HAD TO SHARE THESE SOMEWHERE OKAY #if you have any Thoughts please let me know because i love thinking about soft!din #din djarin headcanons #din thoughts #din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #writing #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you

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morallyinept · 6 months

Text

Okay, this right here is giving me some lazy Sundays with Frankie vibes:

NSFW thots below the cut 🫠

A late Sunday afternoon, after a long lay in with you this morning, where he kissed all over your body, and spent almost an hour with his face buried in between your legs. He can still smell and taste you in his moustache. He hasn't showered today deliberately for this reason, Frankie vibes.

Snuggling with him in his favourite hoodie, that he hasn't washed for at least a few weeks, despite you reminding him where the laundry basket is. But it wafts with a pleasant blend of mint from his gum, that oaky scent of his skin and the mixed spices of his cologne and sweat so you don't mind, Frankie vibes.

Not giving a shit that he can't find his cap and needs a hair cut soon, but he's just going to let those fluffy curls run wild down the nape of his neck and behind his ears, because he loves it when you pull and tug on them, forcing his tongue deeper into your cunt, Frankie vibes.

He's had four cups of coffee to contain the shakes he has now residing, what feels like permanently, in his fingers from the previous coke addiction. He's doing so well, almost ten months sober and he's reapplying for his pilot's licence. He can't wait to fly again, and take you up and show you his world in the sky, Frankie vibes.

Now he's ready to kick back with you in his arms for the rest of the day, bingeing a show together on Netflix, and with holes in his right sock that you giggle at as his pinky toe sticks out of it and he wiggles it, snorting with you, Frankie vibes.

Then, as soon as the first episode is over, and you suggest watching another, he's rolling his broad body onto yours, crushing you into the couch cushions as he slips his hand down inside your panties and fills you up with two thick fingers that make you gush, whilst he tells you in filthy Spanish grunts how much he wants to bend you over the couch and fuck you really hard, Frankie vibes.

🖤

#sundays with frankie #frankie morales #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales thots #frankie morales headcanon #frankie morales triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #jett's pedro boys #jett's thots

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ironmandeficiency · 2 years

Text

pedro boys + witchy s/o

word count: it’s short af

characters: din, oberyn, frankie, javi p, jack, dieter, max, maxwell, pero, ezra, marcus p, marcus m, javi g, dave

a/n: this is the product of witchtok and accidental energy drink consumption at 11pm last night, enjoy y’all

—

frequently does witchcraft with you and has an amazing time:

oberyn

ezra

dieter

javi g

max

hella confused but has the spirit(s):

frankie

jack

maxwell

marcus p

marcus m

supports you but is superstitious and therefore very very cautious:

javi p

pero

dave

din

finds rocks while out and about & brings them to you:

frankie

din

ezra

oberyn

pero

helps you do research on witchy things:

javi p

marcus p

oberyn

max

dave

ezra

“are these two jars labeled moon water from the same moon phase? if so, they need to be condensed into one jar because we’re running out of space in the fridge”:

javi p

frankie

marcus m

marcus p

dave

max

jack

maxwell

asks for your advice on what crystals would help them the most in daily life and starts carrying them around:

dieter

frankie

maxwell

javi g

marcus p

jack

randomly surprises you with witching supplies (incense, candles, etc.) when they notice you’re running low:

javi g

din

max

oberyn

maxwell

calls you spooky in conversations as a joke:

max

javi p

dieter

dave

oberyn

ezra

jack

calls you spooky in conversations sincerely (not maliciously):

din

frankie

marcus m

javi g

maxwell

marcus p

pero

has to buy lighters in bulk because theirs somehow disappear after you ask to borrow one for your incense:

javi p

maxwell

frankie

dieter

javi g

jack

voluntarily goes rock hounding with you:

frankie

ezra

din

jack

pero

marcus m

javi p

would rather just buy you the pretty rocks instead:

max p

maxwell

dave

javi g

dieter

marcus p

oberyn

grows some of the herbs you use in your spellwork himself:

frankie

ezra

oberyn

jack

marcus p

pero

learns to get defensive over their zodiac sign when it’s used as the butt of a joke:

max

dieter

oberyn

ezra

javi g

maxwell

keeps track of the moon phases either along with you or just in case you don’t:

marcus p

din

oberyn

ezra

max

the one who has a 100% success rate with getting the labels off glass jars that used to hold food:

jack

marcus m

pero

frankie

dave

din

ezra

marcus p

the one who almost throws said jar in anger when the label is being too stubborn:

dieter

max

javi g

maxwell

oberyn

javi p

checks the pockets of all your clothes to make sure there are no rocks in them when doing laundry:

javi p

dave

frankie

din

marcus p

marcus m

jack

jokingly calls you the fourth sanderson sister after a successful spell:

jack

max

marcus m

dieter

laughs at the naked people on the rider-waite tarot cards during a reading:

max

dieter

javi g

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #javier peña x reader #frankie morales x reader #agent whiskey x reader #javier gutierrez x reader #oberyn martell x reader #din djarin x reader #dave york x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #dieter bravo x reader #marcus moreno x reader #marcus pike x reader #pero tovar x reader #maxwell lord x reader #max phillips x reader

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absurdthirst · 2 years

Note

Which Pedro character do you think would have Spit kink?

My answer is obviously all of them 😉😉😉

A Thing for Spitting:

Javier: Not really. He’s not big on spitting. BITING? Hell yes, but spitting is a little too on the demeaning and degrading side for him. He’ll swap spit with you no problem, but he’s not going to spit into your mouth or on you.

Ezra: KING DADDY OF SPITTING. This man loves coating your skin with his saliva. Especially loves when you choke on his cock enough that there are tears filling your eyes and your expression is glassy as he holds you by the throat and orders you to open your mouth. Cock twitching when after he spits in you mouth, you smile up at him and thank him.

Mando: Mando has a slight oral fixation. It might because you are the first person that he’s kissed, that he's put his mouth on. He’s only ever taken off his helmet with you and because of that, the man is willing to do anything

Tovar: Absolutely. It’s filthy and this man lives for filthy. He loves spitting in your mouth, on every single one of your holes and smearing it around with his thumb while that cocky fucking smirk is on his face.

Frankie: Surprisingly, Frankie is down for it. It alllllll depends on that headspace he’s in. When he’s feeling that absolute need for control, the zip ties come out and you can expect that his man is going to spit on your pussy and in your mouth before he’s done with you.

Agent Whiskey: This yee haw bastard would LOVE to spit on you. You just tell him when and where and he will lasso you up and hog tie you exactly how he wants before he gets to live out his fantasy.

Max Phillips: Honestly it’s not his thing. He’ll do it for you, but only if you will accommodate his blood fixation.

Marcus Pike: He’s curious about it. He’s curious and wanting to try a lot of things, but he’s never broached the subject. Always afraid of disgusting his partners with a lot of those desires so he keeps them to himself. Until you encourage him to open up and be honest. He finds out it doesn’t do much for him but you love it, so it definitely becomes a thing.

Dave York: YES, yes this man will spit all over you. He will do whatever he you wants. Another man who loves to spit in your mouth with his hand around your throat and his cock buried inside you so he can feel how hard you squeeze it.

Oberyn: He is willing to try anything at least once and if you are up for it, the Prince of Dorne will treat you exactly like the dirty little slut that you are, right down to spitting.

Max Lord: No. It’s too ingrained in him that it’s a huge insult. He’s been spit on a few times and there is no way. Especially when it gives him flashbacks to how enraged he felt when he had been publicly humiliated.

Marcus Moreno: Heroics’ wholesome leader, Marcus Moreno is a discreet freak. He’s not exactly into spitting in your mouth, but your pussy? Or your tits? He’s down for that.

Zach Wellison: Not really his thing. He will do it for you, but if he’s honest, it makes him slightly uncomfortable. He just cannot disconnect the idea that it’s disrespectful in his head. He was spit on too many times when he was on the streets.

Javi G: This sweet baby of a man? There is absolutely no way. None. He just doesn’t have it in him to do that. He’s seen it in movies, but he just could never imagine.

Dieter: Yes....but...will you spit in his mouth?

MasterList

Permanent Tag List:

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character headcanons #javier peña headcanon #ezra prospect headcanon #the mandalorian headcanon #pero tovar headcanon #frankie morales headcanons #agent whiskey headcanons #max phillips headcanon #Marcus Pike headcanon #oberyn martell headcanons #Dave York headcanon #max lord headcanon #Marcus Moreno headcanon #zach wellison headcanon #javi gutierrez headcanon #dieter bravo headcanon

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cherry-writes-yanderes · 2 years

Text

“Stay still.”

You couldn’t help it, it wasn’t exactly comfortable sitting in the lap of someone with full armor on. His deep, slightly crackled voice in your ear was another reason you couldn’t sit still. The cool beskar was pressing on your skin as you heard him let out a deep sigh, causing you to shiver slightly. “You said you wanted to try this with someone... Why not me?” He asked softly. You could feel his eyes burning through your skin, staring into your soul. You hesitated to answer as your eyes wandered over to the blaster on the floor and the Amban sniper rifle still attached to his back. This man was indeed dangerous, your brain scrambled with thoughts of how many ways this man could kill you. But instead, he chose to grab you by the hips and put you in his lap. Another sigh, this one a sigh of comfort, comes from his voice filter, his gloved hands rubbing your hips with a gentleness you never knew Mandalorians had.

“You won’t be trying this with anyone else.” He ordered, his voice still soft as not to wake the Child.

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ithebookhoarder · 7 months

Text

Stubborn (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Description: Joel had never met anyone as stubborn as him, until he met you. AKA - you get sick and it's up to Joel to get you to rest for a damn minute.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of illness, Joel fluff XD

Masterlist

“I swear to God, you are trying to kill yourself, woman.”

You blinked.

You didn’t even try to respond to Joel, knowing that even trying would cause your sore throat to hurt even more than it already did - and that was saying something.

As if he could read your mind, Joel growled under his breath, pushing away the toolbox you had been reaching for.

That morning you had decided, despite the fact that you felt like death warmed up, that you were going to carry on as normal and finish the list of chores you had racked up over the last few weeks. With winter creeping closer by the day, you were keen to fix the window upstairs in the bathroom and stop the draught the rickety frame had been letting in.

So what you had a cold? It was always the way when the weather turned and you’d managed to push through worse before. However, Joel was clearly of a different mindset.

“I thought I told you to keep your ass in bed today until I got back from patrol?”

“But, Joel - I’m fine -“ you croaked, the pain visible in the way you winced at every syllable. You couldn’t say another word before your throat decided to close entirely, an alarmingly vicious coughing fit silencing you.

It seemed your aching body was out to betray you. No sooner had the coughs subsided than Joel had his hand pressed to your forehead, a frown pulling on his brow. He didn’t need to tell you you had a fever - you could tell you were burning up yourself. You had just simply been too stubborn to take notice before now.

“Yeah, you’re fine, my ass,” he grumbled. His concern was all too clear and you suddenly felt even worse as guilt began to creep up on you. He had enough on his plate recently, what with arriving back in Jackson after the disaster you’d faced with Ellie and the failed Fireflies ‘cure’.

Things had hardly been easy for you, carrying the weight of what had happened at that hospital and the secret the pair of you now shared. Then there was also the fact you had had to start trying to build a life for yourselves - to find your place in this community after spending so long alone out in the world.

It hadn’t been easy - not by a long shot - and you had always found that keeping busy was the best way to handle feeling overwhelmed or stressed. No wonder you’d worked yourself to the point of exhaustion. If anything, you were more surprised you’d made it this long before things had begun to catch up with you.

“Where’s Ellie? Thought she was keeping an eye on you?”

“At Tommy’s,” you croaked, struggling to get your breath back. “Maria came by, said some of the others kid were going over to watch a - a - movie -“

“That’s it - upstairs, now,” Joel ordered as you started coughing once again. “You look about as bad as you sound and you’re only going to get worse if you don’t get some rest. I know you didn’t sleep a wink last night, all that tossing and turning. At least I now know why.”

You sighed. You had felt awful last night, unable to get comfortable as your condition got worse with every passing hour. Hell, you’d eventually given up and gone to sit downstairs by the fire, rather than risk waking Joel. He needed all the rest he could get.

“But-"

“But nothing, sweetheart,” Joel warned, taking matters into his own hands - literally.

No sooner had you opened your mouth to protest than Joel had stepped forward and scooped you up into his arms.

It was testament to how sick you really were that you didn’t even try to fight. In fact, you simply flopped against him as he carried you back upstairs to your shared bedroom, your face buried deep in to the crook of his neck.

You inhaled the scent that was so distinctly him, trying to focus on it and not the sudden urge to vomit as the world around you moved.

“Fuck,” you whined, closing your eyes in the hope it would help.

Thankfully, though, Joel was quick to manoeuvre you into your bed, laying you down and burying you beneath the covers. He also was quick to fetch you a cup of tea and some of the medicine Maria had provided you with when you’d first arrived. It was some herbal mixture that smelt awful but seemed to work as well as anything you’d previously got at a pharmacy.

“Thank you,” you whimpered, gratitude clear in your eyes as he handed the steaming mug towards you. He watched, the instruction clear on his face as he made sure you began to drink it rather than leaving it until it was cold as you often did. You were easily distracted, always breezing from one place to the next and leaving things in your wake. “I’m sorry… I’m a stubborn pain in your ass.”

Joel’s laugh was immediate, the irony evident in his smile. “Look who you’re talking to, darlin’. I think we both hit every branch on our way down from the stubborn tree. Takes one to know one, after all.”

“Touché.”

“I just want you to take care of yourself, ok? You and Ellie are all I got and I - I can’t lose you. Either of you.” Joel’s voice was light but you could hear the truth beneath it, tugging at your heart strings. You could only be grateful that he then chose to crawl into bed beside you, saving you from having to respond.

Instead, he arranged you both so that your head was resting against his chest, his fingers able to brush lazily through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

Within moments, you could feel yourself steadily succumbing to the overwhelming urge to sleep, relieved in the knowledge that you weren’t alone. That, and the herbal remedy had already began to ease some of your symptoms.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your words slurring together. “Thanks again for taking care of me… I don’t know what I’d do without you, you grumpy old man… You can be a real softie under all that tough exterior…”

“Oh, hush, you, Little Miss Sassy-pants,” he chuckled, the rare sound one of your favourites. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller headcanon

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

Text

kisses in which, ''i can't believe this is real, but i love you so much''

Javier Peña x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 560

Warnings- a shitty ex, protective!Javier, neighbors, mutual pining, feelings confessions, alcohol mention

Notes- Requested by a lovely anon for my 4k follower celebration! Thank you so much and your message was so sweet!! I hope you enjoy this!! I really want to write more Javier so I loved writing this!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

“Leave me alone,” you yanked your arm from your ex boyfriend’s grip, “I told you we’re through!”

“You bitch!” he yelled back at you. He reeled his arm back as he geared up to slap you, but the blow never landed.

“You sure you want to do that, pal?” Javier interrupted your spat in the hallway when he grabbed your ex’s wrist. He slammed him back against the wall before he landed a punch of his own, “Get the fuck out.”

“Asshole,” your ex muttered as he stared at Javier for a moment with a challenge in his eyes.

You watched from the other end of the hall in shock that your neighbor stepped in and defended you without hesitation. Your hands trembled as you watched the two men face off. Eventually, though, your ex conceded and scurried off while he muttered incoherent curses. Javier watched him run away until he was out the building door before he turned to you.

“Hey,” he rested his hands on your shoulders as he said your name, “You alright?”

You looked at Javier wide-eyed, “Uh, yeah,” you breathed, “I’m ok.”

He looked you over before he gestured to his apartment door, “Come inside. I don’t trust that asshole won’t be back.”

“Oh,” your voice sounded far away, “Ok…”

A million thoughts ran through your head as you settled yourself on Javier’s couch. He muttered something about fixing you both a drink, but you barely heard it. You hadn’t been with your ex long, and it wasn’t ever anything serious. No, your heart had always belonged to someone else… someone else who was currently grabbing you a drink after saving your ass.

“Here,” Javier’s voice knocked you out of your thoughts as he set a glass down on the table in front of you, “I never liked that guy anyway,” he said as he sat down next to you, “You’re too good for him.”

A soft gasp escaped your throat, “You really think so?”

Javier smirked and it made your heart flutter, “Yeah… You’re far too pretty for that rat.”

That made you laugh, “So I deserve someone on my level of pretty then?” The adrenaline that still pulsed through your system made you bold as you grabbed your drink and took a big sip.

He hid his laugh behind his hand as he did the same, “I guess.” Warmth radiated from his skin as he watched you relax in his presence. And Javier could only wish that he could call you his own. Truthfully, it pained him to see you with your ex, and it brought up feelings that Javier tried so hard to bury.

But your next words caught him completely off guard.

“So, someone like you then?” your tone dropped as you finished your drink and looked at him with a seductive look in your eyes.

Javier’s mouth dropped open, “I…” he huffed as he finished off his drink as well. When he met your eyes again, he felt his heart pound in his chest, “Fuck you’re so beautiful…”

“So are you, Javi…” you inched closer as your gaze dropped down to his lips.

Javier leaned in and cupped your face. Was this the result of adrenaline and alcohol? Was this a dream? Or was this actually happening out of true genuine feelings? Either way, Javi couldn’t bring himself to stop, and you certainly weren’t pushing him away.

Slowly Javier closed the gap between your faces and placed a soft kiss on your lips. What started tender, quickly erupted into more the moment your lips touched, and you clawed at his shirt to eagerly pull him closer to you and deepen the kiss.

Javier wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you over so that you straddled his hips, all the while his lips never broke away from yours. Soft moans echoed from both of you as you devoured each other in a feverish frenzy. As if neither of you were sure this was real and you wanted to seize the moment when you could.

But, when you finally had to break away for a breath, you both realized this was real. You were here, on Javier’s lap. And there was an undeniable connection between you.

“It’s always been you, Javi,” you whispered as you buried your hand in his hair.

His eyes trailed up and down your figure as he cock twitched in his pants. You noticed because you let out a soft moan that ignited a new fire, “What do you say we move to the bedroom then?” Javier asked as he kissed you again.

“I thought you’d never ask…”

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