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Pedro Pascal Characters
Marcus Acacius
Lamb to the Slaughter
Hold them down series
Nymph
Joel Miller
A glimpse of us series
Javier Peña
Nena Mala
Oberyn Martell
Frankie Morales
Agent Whiskey
Dieter Bravo
Reed Richards
Cross over fics
Falling from grace (Dark! Joel Miller, Dark! Javier Peña, dark! Marcus Acacius, Dark! Oberyn Martell, Dark! Agent Whiskey, Dark! Dieter Bravo, Dark! Frankie Morales)
Just read the two chapters of a Glimpse of Us and oh my god my poor heart. I hope the reader makes Joel grovel and suffer for being such an asshole. To be tossed aside like that, and having babies are no joke to the body. I want him to really suffer you know, like Joelly why do you have to be so mean 😭😭😭😭 Great writing btw!
Hi gorgeous!!!
thank you so so much! support means a lot
Joel’s so mean, like it’s really hot but he’s so so mean!!!
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dubcon, fingering, unprotected p in v, male masturbation, degradation, mean and dark joel.
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Series Masterlist
Hands. Warm, calloused and thick.
They lulled you awake, that and the shift on the bed.
Your sleep tiptoed the line between wakefulness and deep bliss, it had been like that ever since you arrive to the house. You mushed your face closer into the pillow, the softness a newfound pleasure. Behind the stench of sex that emanated from the room, you picked the scent of something new. The bed sheets were from your town.
Just down the street from were your house was at, your mom usually made you pick up fresh linens every now and then. Softies.
When a palm nudged your collarbones, pain bounced all over your body. You clenched your thighs, a reflect, the sting greeted you fiercely.
"Puppy," He called out, and you flinched. He caught you still, mere inches away from the bed's edge. "Wake up."
His voice went deeper, a command. You blinked, peeling your eyes open to the darkness of the room. Your reality. Your arms tightened around the pillow as an anchor to life.
"Someone wants a bite out of ya," He drawled, and his breath fanned against the exposed crook of your neck. "seems like he waited long enough for this."
Someone new?
"N-no." You whimpered, no more please. The memories of earlier flooded your mind, their touch everywhere, violating and degrading. It hurt to even talk, throat hoarse. "Please Joel, no more."
His hand traveled down your spine, over the curve of your ass. It sent shivers at it's wake, fondled new bruises. You crossed your knees, and felt him sneer against your hair as he forced his hand in between them.
You jerked onto your elbows, giving him the chance to scoop an arm under your ribs and press your side to his chest. His fingers roughly searched for your entrance.
"Thought you'd be more excited for him." He grunted, and your fleeting hand came to grip at his bicep. His voice was laced with venom, and it pierced through your ears in the silence of the night. "There, there."
His pointer and middle circle your hole, swollen and sensitive. He played around with the remains of his assault on you, still buried and leaking.
"Stop it." someone seethed. Your frantic panic ceased, just in case, before adjusting to the timbre of the voice.
Catfish.
You let out a breathe of relief, body almost relaxing against Joel's. But he chuckled, pulling his digits out off your folds, just for them to smear against your thigh and hitch your knee off the bed.
Pain shot across your hips and muscles, and shame rose to your cheeks. Being so bare in front of Catfish seemed like a stupid thing to worry about, but still felt so wrong.
"He has finally caved in to get a piece of ya."
Your blood froze and your eyes shot open, fully awake.
"Haven't ya, Catfish?" He sang again, smugness written all over his tone. "Come here and take your price."
And then, something horrible happened. The bed dipped, the tell tale sound of a zipper, and Joel shuffled just slightly to the side.
"Catfish." You begged with renewed vigor. Tears threatened to spill as his hands gently wrapped around your hips.
And he didn't respond, instead Joel chuckled. "Aww, what's the matter baby? Not excited to see your little friend?" He mocked, fingers digging cruelly into the soft flesh of your thigh as he pulled your side against his hardening cock. "Catfish has been dying to get his hands on this sweet little ass. And now, he's finally going to get his chance."
The bed creaked as Catfish climbed onto it, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the heat of his body, the barely restrained hunger radiating off him. Terror gripped your heart as you realized he was positioning himself behind you, his cock gently tapping against your skin.
Joel laughed, a wicked sound in the dark room, and fisted a hand in your hair. He wrenched your head back, forcing you to look at Catfish as he loomed over you, and his face, oh his face.
He was scared. You could tell from the moonlight slipping through the blinds, his big puppy dog eyes, the way he looked unsteady on his knees. Catfish didn't want to hurt you.
"I'm sorry." He mouthed, and his hand held his cock as if it was a burden.
"Catfish..." You repeated, now in painful understatement. Your heart sobbed, it ached for him. He was being forced as much as you were.
Joel sneered at Catfish's hesitation, his grip on your hair tightening painfully. "Come on, don't be a pussy. She's just a little fuckhole, nothing more. Don't tell me you're scared of a slut like her?"
He used his free hand to reach back and smack your ass hard, the sound echoing obscenely in the room. Your flesh jiggled from the impact, and you couldn't hold back a sob. "Fucking take her, man. Shut her up with your cock like a real man would."
Catfish flinched at the harsh words and the sharp sting on your ass. His hands trembled as they gripped your hips, gently, almost reverently. He looked into your eyes, his own filled with anguish and apology.
He bowed his head as the warmth of his body enveloped yours. You felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against your folds, smearing them with your own arousal. Your muscles fluttered traitorously with a mix of fear and reluctant anticipation.
"There you go," Joel praised, grinding his hard on against your hip. "once ya get a fill, you're never gonna stop pounding into this pussy."
Catfish shuddered, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. It wasn't on purpose, that you knew. You felt the head of his cock catch on your entrance, your body instinctively clenching down. With a shuddering breath, he slowly pushed forward, the thick length of him parting your folds and sinking into your core inch by excruciating inch.
You squirmed, the pain in your abused cunt far too great. He bottomed with a choked groan, planting his palms at the sides of your face. Joel's arms slithered out off the way, making room for Catfish as he settled against the bed head.
You whimpered, tears leaking from the corners of your tightly shut eyes at the painful intrusion stretching you open once more. Your body trembled, muscles fluttering weakly around the thick shaft impaling you, trying in vain to adjust to the size and girth of Catfish's cock. The pain was intense, radiating through your core and making it hard to breathe.
Joel reached out and grabbed Catfish's hip, squeezing the firm muscle. "Fuck, she's so goddamn tight. You better not fucking cum too soon, man. I want to see you ruin this cunt properly."
Catfish didn't dignify his words with an answer, but he did press a warm kiss against your hair before he gently pulled his hips back. A soft sound escaped your lips.
Joel scoffed, rolling his eyes at Catfish's gentleness. "Don't be a fucking pussy. She can take more than that. You have a lot at stake here, boy."
Ignoring Joel's crude encouragement, Catfish continued his slow retreat until just the tip of his cock remained inside you. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed forward again, sinking back into your tight heat with a low groan.
He set a steady, if gentle, pace, his hips rolling in a rhythm that allowed you to slowly adjust to his size. Each thrust sent sparks of reluctant pleasure mixing with the pain, your body instinctively clenching down around the hard length filling you.
Catfish leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he peppered your shoulder and neck with soft kisses. His hands slid up your sides, cupping your breasts and kneading the soft mounds gently as he moved above you. The gentleness of it all made you yearn.
Joel watched the intimate scene with a mix of boredom and disgust, his own cock throbbing against your hip. Yet hidden beneath his stoic stare there was a layer of jealousy he wouldn't admit to. "Fucking hell, you're going to ruin her with that slow shit," he muttered. "She's not a goddamn blushing bride, you know."
But Catfish paid him no mind, focused solely on the woman beneath him, determined to bring her pleasure even as he took his own. His thrusts grew a bit harder, a bit faster, but still remained carefully controlled, thoughtful. You allowed a moan to bubble from your throat, muffled by the pillow.
Catfish's breath hitched, a shudder running through his body as he heard your sweet sounds. He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock, your body responding to his gentle thrusts despite the pain and unwillingness. Emboldened, he began to pick up the pace, hips rolling in a steady rhythm.
Joel snorted derisively, and you heard a zipper going down once more. "That's more like it," he growled. "Stop being a pussy and fuck her like you mean it. Show her what a real man feels like."
Catfish ignored him, lost in the feeling of your silken heat enveloping him. His hands slid down to your thighs, pushing them further apart to open you more to his increasingly powerful thrusts. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each forceful drive of his hips.
"Catfish." You mewled, pressing your forehead against the silk. You had never been fucked like this.
Soft grunts and pants spilled from Catfish's lips as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans as he began to take you with more fervor.
Joel watched, stroking his own aching cock as Catfish's thrusts grew harder, more demanding. Your body rocked with each slam of his hips, the force of his lust shaking the bed. The pleasure built slowly, the pain fading into the background as your treacherous nerves sang with new sensations.
Joel's eyes narrowed as he watched Catfish lose himself in your willing body, a jealous rage building in his chest. His hand moved faster over his own throbbing cock, squeezing and stroking with a harsh, angry rhythm. The sight of your bliss-filled body licked at Joel with a bitter fury. But it will all serve a purpose.
Catfish's movements became erratic, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he neared his peak. A guttural groan tore from his throat, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave deep bruises as he slammed into you one last time. Your eyes rolled back, feeling him impossibly deep.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" he roared, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finally found his release. Hot, thick ropes of cum painted your insides, mingling with Joel's seed. His body shuddered and jerked above you, lost in the throes of his intense high.
He panted above you, almost loosing his balance. He bent down to get a better look, your face scrunched in pleasure-pain.
Not to put pressure of any kind I SWEAR. but I’m checking your account every day!! AAAHHHH it’s Catfish’s turn and IM SO EXCITED I’m sure whatever turn it takes it’s gonna be amazing love! I hope you are doing great! And see you in the next chapter!
💖
Hi gorgeous!!!
new chapter is done! just need to organize the headings and stuff!
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dark dark themes, sexual slavery, reader is in pain and exhausted, heed all previous warnings, threatening, Dark Joel, forced drinking, manipulation, mentions of noncon, idk what else to tag
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Joel felt over aware. As he sat down on the brittle wooden chair, fingerprints drawing circles on the table, the whiskey slid easily down his throat. Something he had gotten from trading with Jackson.
Your image dwindled on his mind, growing weaker by each passing minute. Naked, battered and bruised. He knew you were in pain, pretty cunt gaping obscenely. He knew that he could just crawl over you and fuck you once again if he wished it. You still laid in his bed, bathed and draped in new sheets, awaiting.
The door creaked open, the afternoon breeze accompanying the intruder of his thoughts. Whiskey’s shoulders squared with pride and his chest puffed, closing the door with a cocky kick of his heel.
Joel observed him as he strutted towards the table. His arm stretched under the thick denim of his jacket, and he presented his palm with a cocky grin.
The metal was tarnished, coppery, but the outline was clear. A tiny helicopter pin, Whiskey offered.
Joel felt amusement tug at his lips, but he schooled his expression. The pin clattered against the table, Joel’s eyes glued to it.
Sweet fucking Bingo.
The key to make you finally un-cling to Catfish right in his hands. He took it in his pointer and thumb, observing the way the kitchen light caught onto it.
Whiskey hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts once more.
“I think this settles for a good hour…” He drawled, eyebrow cocking teasingly. A part of him was joking, and the other part of him created a prominent bulge in his pants.
Joel avoided a disgusted scrunch of his face, fighting twitching muscles.
“She’ll need a break for tonight.” He declared, a solemn order that wiped the smirk off his man’s face. "But you'll be rewarded for this, that I promise."
Joel would he lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Catfish flinched as the refrigerator door slammed closed under his grip. The cool, condensed bottle sent jolts along his hands. He was buzzing with excitement as he twirled on his feet and planted the bottle on the table with a slight thump.
He ignored the hollers of enjoyment of his fellow men, kicking the chair and taking a seat. Catfish froze under his stare, the all consuming guilt, he pondered.
He grabbed the tumblers on the table, filling them up. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. He poured more onto the last one, and pushed the glass to his designated driver.
Catfish’s brows furrowed under the baseball cap, shaking his head slightly. Joel could see the circles under his eyes, could feel the tenseness of his tanned skin; all a result of you. Your stay in the house was driving him mad.
“Not drinking tonight.” Catfish grumbled, but Joel tapped the glass in front of him.
“You’ll need it.” He muttered, enough to make the others cast side eyed glances at him, with sneaky intrigue. An order.
Javier cleared his throat, flicking ashes into the tray. “How’s the bitch?”
Bitch. Joel liked the ring of that nickname.
Joel’s lips curled into a sloppy smirk. “Fucked out.” He responded casually. “Giving her some damn rest, she took it like a champ.”
Javier smiled in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Catfish’s hand tense around the condensed glass. Of course he wouldn't enjoy the way they talked about her.
“Gonna bring some ‘plan b’s tomorrow.” He informed, gingerly. “no need to knock her up.”
Joel felt his muscles turn taut, and he grounded his teeth.
“Definitely.” Dieter added, with an air of authority he shouldn’t have. “No need for a little fucker here.”
Some laughed, Oberyn tsked, eyes dreamy as always. “She’d look nice, all round, those tits would be something I’d die for.”
The chair screeched as Catfish rose to his feet, still clutching the tumbler in his hand. Eyes shot at him.
“Where ya going?” Joel barked, a bit more forceful than he would wanted to. God, adrenaline was nibbling at him.
Hatred.
It spread all around Catfish’s face as he looked at them. As if he was any more worthy than they were, any more good. A look he had from the very first time, when Joel recruited him, that told him he thought he was far above them.
“I’m going to bed.” He answered, though his feet stayed stuck to the ground, awaiting.
“No, you’re not.” Joel nudged to the chair. Catfish sat down with a sigh. Good boy.
“What’s the matter?” Acacius frowned, leaning back into the wooden seat. “Don’t like us talking about her like that?”
Catfish’s jaw twitched.
“You never had an issue before.” Whiskey added, the thick smoke of his cigar curling around him in the air. "you even fucked some bitches back then."
Catfish took a sip of whatever was in his cup, perhaps to deter the questioning, perhaps because of the way Joel burnt holes into his skull with his eyes was making him uneasy.
And they persisted.
“You are too soft on her,” Javier deemed between curls of smoke. "that's why she clings so much to ya."
They agreed silently, and Joel felt the flames of jealousy licking at his spine. Each time you mumbled his name softly, he could almost feel the need in your voice for it to be him. To be Catfish the man that was pleasuring you.
As if he was the only man that could do it.
"What were you talking about in the shower?"
Catfish's face paled, but he still cleared his throat. "Nothin'."
"Didn't sound like nothing." Joel bit, studying carefully the nervous flicker of Catfish's hands. "She wants ya to fuck her?"
Catfish grimaced at the crassness of his words, untouched by the way Joel dipped his hand onto the pocket of his shirt.
"She's loosing her mind." He cleared, voice a plea, an excuse, whatever. It didn't matter to Joel.
He shrugged before dropping the pin onto the table; Catfish's eyes flickered from the dark onyx pools that gazed slowly up at him and the tarnished metal that clattered against the table.
His lips parted.
Bingo.
"How's your boy?" Joel drawled, tapping his big, imposing fingers on the wooden table. For a mere moment, he was alone with Catfish, just them under the warm lamp light. "What was his name, Tyler?"
"Joel." Catfish groaned, eyes glued to the silver helicopter.
"When was the last time you saw him, huh?"
Hands curled onto fists, and they slammed against the table. Enough.
Perhaps Joel was blissfully ignorant of the men around them, but Catfish was painfully aware. They were the only thing deterring him from pouncing on top of him.
"What have you done?" He spat, voice shivering.
Joel chuckled darkly, "Nothin'." He retorted.
He could see the way silence clawed at his ears, oh so begging for an answer.
"I haven't done anything, yet." Joel punctuated, slowly feeding him. "Just like you haven't fucked our little bitch yet."
Realization casted on Catfish features, and he shook his head on instinct.
"Joel, this is serious-"
"You know what is serious to me?" He cut him short. "That I cannot possibly trust one of my men anymore, just because he is pussy-whipped with a pussy he doesn't even fuck."
Joel's glare was intense, diminishing Catfish with his sharp tongue.
"And if I can't trust ya, then I have no reason to keep evading that little camp were your son is at."
His final jab made Catfish's eyes cloud with frustration, tears almost brimming. Fear bubbled in his throat as he spoke.
"What do you want from me?"
Cracked.
"You have to fuck her."
Catfish let out a dry, humorless laugh. Panic was nipping at him.
"What do you win from that?"
Joel's brows furrowed. "I miss the times were you just obeyed."
But as his hand reached over to the pin, Catfish spoke again. "Fine, Joel, fine."
Sweat beaded at his forehead just below his baseball cap, and his puppy dog eyes were wide, fearful.
A smug grin tugged at Joel's lips, triumphant in all it's glory. He downed the glass and rose to his feet in anticipation.
I am genuinely tweaking, the waiting for a new chapter is OVER, but it was SO WORTH IT. I loved seeing more of their non-horny state of mind and the unnoticed effect reader has on each and every one of their minds, it is simply delicioussss. Catfish and Joel are my MEN, I am so serious, and their contrast is eating at me.
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dark dark themes, sexual slavery, reader is in pain and exhausted, heed all previous warnings, threatening, Dark Joel, forced drinking, manipulation, mentions of noncon, idk what else to tag
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Series Masterlist
Joel felt over aware. As he sat down on the brittle wooden chair, fingerprints drawing circles on the table, the whiskey slid easily down his throat. Something he had gotten from trading with Jackson.
Your image dwindled on his mind, growing weaker by each passing minute. Naked, battered and bruised. He knew you were in pain, pretty cunt gaping obscenely. He knew that he could just crawl over you and fuck you once again if he wished it. You still laid in his bed, bathed and draped in new sheets, awaiting.
The door creaked open, the afternoon breeze accompanying the intruder of his thoughts. Whiskey’s shoulders squared with pride and his chest puffed, closing the door with a cocky kick of his heel.
Joel observed him as he strutted towards the table. His arm stretched under the thick denim of his jacket, and he presented his palm with a cocky grin.
The metal was tarnished, coppery, but the outline was clear. A tiny helicopter pin, Whiskey offered.
Joel felt amusement tug at his lips, but he schooled his expression. The pin clattered against the table, Joel’s eyes glued to it.
Sweet fucking Bingo.
The key to make you finally un-cling to Catfish right in his hands. He took it in his pointer and thumb, observing the way the kitchen light caught onto it.
Whiskey hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts once more.
“I think this settles for a good hour…” He drawled, eyebrow cocking teasingly. A part of him was joking, and the other part of him created a prominent bulge in his pants.
Joel avoided a disgusted scrunch of his face, fighting twitching muscles.
“She’ll need a break for tonight.” He declared, a solemn order that wiped the smirk off his man’s face. "But you'll be rewarded for this, that I promise."
Joel would he lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Catfish flinched as the refrigerator door slammed closed under his grip. The cool, condensed bottle sent jolts along his hands. He was buzzing with excitement as he twirled on his feet and planted the bottle on the table with a slight thump.
He ignored the hollers of enjoyment of his fellow men, kicking the chair and taking a seat. Catfish froze under his stare, the all consuming guilt, he pondered.
He grabbed the tumblers on the table, filling them up. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. He poured more onto the last one, and pushed the glass to his designated driver.
Catfish’s brows furrowed under the baseball cap, shaking his head slightly. Joel could see the circles under his eyes, could feel the tenseness of his tanned skin; all a result of you. Your stay in the house was driving him mad.
“Not drinking tonight.” Catfish grumbled, but Joel tapped the glass in front of him.
“You’ll need it.” He muttered, enough to make the others cast side eyed glances at him, with sneaky intrigue. An order.
Javier cleared his throat, flicking ashes into the tray. “How’s the bitch?”
Bitch. Joel liked the ring of that nickname.
Joel’s lips curled into a sloppy smirk. “Fucked out.” He responded casually. “Giving her some damn rest, she took it like a champ.”
Javier smiled in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Catfish’s hand tense around the condensed glass. Of course he wouldn't enjoy the way they talked about her.
“Gonna bring some ‘plan b’s tomorrow.” He informed, gingerly. “no need to knock her up.”
Joel felt his muscles turn taut, and he grounded his teeth.
“Definitely.” Dieter added, with an air of authority he shouldn’t have. “No need for a little fucker here.”
Some laughed, Oberyn tsked, eyes dreamy as always. “She’d look nice, all round, those tits would be something I’d die for.”
The chair screeched as Catfish rose to his feet, still clutching the tumbler in his hand. Eyes shot at him.
“Where ya going?” Joel barked, a bit more forceful than he would wanted to. God, adrenaline was nibbling at him.
Hatred.
It spread all around Catfish’s face as he looked at them. As if he was any more worthy than they were, any more good. A look he had from the very first time, when Joel recruited him, that told him he thought he was far above them.
“I’m going to bed.” He answered, though his feet stayed stuck to the ground, awaiting.
“No, you’re not.” Joel nudged to the chair. Catfish sat down with a sigh. Good boy.
“What’s the matter?” Acacius frowned, leaning back into the wooden seat. “Don’t like us talking about her like that?”
Catfish’s jaw twitched.
“You never had an issue before.” Whiskey added, the thick smoke of his cigar curling around him in the air. "you even fucked some bitches back then."
Catfish took a sip of whatever was in his cup, perhaps to deter the questioning, perhaps because of the way Joel burnt holes into his skull with his eyes was making him uneasy.
And they persisted.
“You are too soft on her,” Javier deemed between curls of smoke. "that's why she clings so much to ya."
They agreed silently, and Joel felt the flames of jealousy licking at his spine. Each time you mumbled his name softly, he could almost feel the need in your voice for it to be him. To be Catfish the man that was pleasuring you.
As if he was the only man that could do it.
"What were you talking about in the shower?"
Catfish's face paled, but he still cleared his throat. "Nothin'."
"Didn't sound like nothing." Joel bit, studying carefully the nervous flicker of Catfish's hands. "She wants ya to fuck her?"
Catfish grimaced at the crassness of his words, untouched by the way Joel dipped his hand onto the pocket of his shirt.
"She's loosing her mind." He cleared, voice a plea, an excuse, whatever. It didn't matter to Joel.
He shrugged before dropping the pin onto the table; Catfish's eyes flickered from the dark onyx pools that gazed slowly up at him and the tarnished metal that clattered against the table.
His lips parted.
Bingo.
"How's your boy?" Joel drawled, tapping his big, imposing fingers on the wooden table. For a mere moment, he was alone with Catfish, just them under the warm lamp light. "What was his name, Tyler?"
"Joel." Catfish groaned, eyes glued to the silver helicopter.
"When was the last time you saw him, huh?"
Hands curled onto fists, and they slammed against the table. Enough.
Perhaps Joel was blissfully ignorant of the men around them, but Catfish was painfully aware. They were the only thing deterring him from pouncing on top of him.
"What have you done?" He spat, voice shivering.
Joel chuckled darkly, "Nothin'." He retorted.
He could see the way silence clawed at his ears, oh so begging for an answer.
"I haven't done anything, yet." Joel punctuated, slowly feeding him. "Just like you haven't fucked our little bitch yet."
Realization casted on Catfish features, and he shook his head on instinct.
"Joel, this is serious-"
"You know what is serious to me?" He cut him short. "That I cannot possibly trust one of my men anymore, just because he is pussy-whipped with a pussy he doesn't even fuck."
Joel's glare was intense, diminishing Catfish with his sharp tongue.
"And if I can't trust ya, then I have no reason to keep evading that little camp were your son is at."
His final jab made Catfish's eyes cloud with frustration, tears almost brimming. Fear bubbled in his throat as he spoke.
"What do you want from me?"
Cracked.
"You have to fuck her."
Catfish let out a dry, humorless laugh. Panic was nipping at him.
"What do you win from that?"
Joel's brows furrowed. "I miss the times were you just obeyed."
But as his hand reached over to the pin, Catfish spoke again. "Fine, Joel, fine."
Sweat beaded at his forehead just below his baseball cap, and his puppy dog eyes were wide, fearful.
A smug grin tugged at Joel's lips, triumphant in all it's glory. He downed the glass and rose to his feet in anticipation.
Hi beautifulllll I have a request whenever you have time!
For Falling From Grace, what if reader asks them to cum on her tits or face, whatever but for HER pleasure, because she wants it.
Like, one of them does it to her first and she realizes she likes it so much she asks for all of them, on their days, to do it to her.
And it'd be more of (I'd leave this to your choice, obvi) one sentence of their reaction, either words or their actions but in one sentence.
So, I'm thinking Whiskey'd be like
"Attagirl, open up that pretty mouth wide"
or Marcus Acacius just...
Slaps her face roughly as if she just demanded the most outrageous thing because who does she think she is to draw pleasure from his pleasure?
THANK U IN ADVANCE LOVE YA
omg gorgeous what a mindddd
dark! stuff below the cut!!
deep in stockholm syndrome, already broken in reader.
Joel Miller
He's up till late, fixing some batteries or some shit like that
You are huddled between his thick thighs, mouth bobbing gently along his cock- as he told you. "No fancy stuff, puppy, just need a place to stuff my cock."
Your jaw aches, and the way you pick up your pace when you realize your eyes are fluttering for sleep has him bouncing soles against the floor.
He's about to grab a fistful of your hair and get it over with when the loud pop surprises him, followed by the cool breeze over his wet dick.
He looks down at your shape, obscured by the table. Your lips are swollen and your naked body almost shivers.
If he moved his boot an inch or two it would be just under your naked pussy.
But his gaze flickered back to your hesitant eyes, intimidated by his scowl.
The silence was a sign to continue.
"C-can you cum on me?"
Your voice barely above a whisper, barely audible at all.
He froze. Tempting idea.
Your nipples pebbled as you rose up bit, ribs digging against the chair he was man spreading in.
You propped your elbows on his thighs and carefully wrapped a hand around his spat on cock. You angled his cock towards your chest, searching for approval in his face.
Wrong. His grip on your hair brought you to your feet, as sudden as the attack of a snake in the grass.
Loose bits of wire and tools dug into your back as he pressed you over the table.
You whined as his heavy body slotted right over yours, spare hand aligning his cock with your swollen cunt.
"Wanna waste my cum?" He barked at your ear, and your scalp burned. "Got all the other boys to cum on your slutty body, not me baby."
He pushed his cock in with no kindness, and you realized you had fucked up.
Javier Peña
Baby boy needs to make sure he was hearing right, your breathy little moans filling his head with air
"cum on my ass." You mewl, almost loosing your grip on the blanket. His cock pistoned in and out, and then stuttered.
His thick arm reached around your front, pulling you against his damp abs. His cock dug impossibly deeper, and your head reeled into his shoulder
"Huh?" He groaned, before licking a stripe against your cheek. you squirmed.
"C-cum on my ass, please." You repeated, shame spreading against your cheeks.
He let you go, still impaled in his cock, and your body jerked against the sheets
You moaned as he slipped his cock out of you, clenching around painfully nothing
His hand groped your ass tightly, spreading you open as he aimed with the same ability he had done years ago
Hot, wet cum spurted all over your holes, and you eyes shut in bliss
"Que preciosa te ves empapada."
Agent Whiskey
He's fucking your throat first thing he does when he's back from work
Preening at your enthusiasm, he curses "There there, pretty whore, milk my fucking cock dry."
You are unable to speak clearly as the pubic hair nestled on the base of his cock tickles against your nose. But he hears your pretty little whimpers and babbles, and pulls away, letting you catch some air.
"On-On my face." You plead, between gulps of breathe. His eyebrows scrunch.
"Don't like the taste honey?" He asks, a bit offended. You shake your head hastily, fear mingling in your action.
"Like how it feels." You whisper shyly, forcing a grin to tug at his lips; just under the well groomed mustache.
He holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail, his cock tapping at your lips as he beguns fisting
"Attagirl, open up that pretty mouth wide" He growls. "Don't wanna waste all of it."
Oh he loves how your face scrunches with excitement and nerviousness, lips parting coyly, it's just enough to send him over the edge, painting your face in white
Oberyn Martell
Your face is planted against the pillow, etched with concern as Oberyn's broad shoulders cage you into the bed
His weight is warm and suffocating, each slow and sensual rut of his hips sending your eyes to the back of your skull
"Tell me, my darling," He purrs, flicking strands away from your hair. "what is it you desire?"
Your thighs spread, almost begging for more, and your voice is slurred with sex. "Oberyn."
He chuckles, inhaling the scent of your hair as his knees support his tortuously slow fucking
He knows what he's doing, he wants you to beg
"cum on- whine- cum on my- cum outside my pussy."
He tuts, a deep stroke making you bite the pillow case.
He picks up his pace, and you squirm at how quickly he does.
"Nah baby," He mutters, leaning back onto his heels as his thighs encase yours, holding you still. "this cunt is made to take my cum, to have it clenching around me as I keep you filled."
You hum, his words setting you on fire.
"Don't want to carry my bastard, is it that baby?" He presses, and you are too fucked out to string a sentence together, but you shook your head against the silky pillow case. He sighs, intrigued. "such a dirty girl."
Marcus Acacius
You'd be too terrified to even ask
His body dwarfs yours, and your knees almost falter as his cock plummets in your ass
You know the two digits he has shoved into your cunt aren't for your pleasure, but you soak them thoroughly.
Despite the way your hole envelops him, he wishes to cum in your warm, wet pussy- but the idea comes a second too late, and the way your ass clenches around him as he pulls away is enough to have him painting your globes round
You gasp at the sensation, hips buckling back and pushing his fingers deeper, his knuckle grazes your clit and it's game over
You cum around his fingers- a thing Marcus, for some reason, hates
The conversation he had that morning with Joel resounds in his ears. "The little whore asked me to cum all over her, don't know who got those ideas on her head."
He had grumbled something back, "Probably Catfish."
His nostrils flared as red hot anger licked at his fists, curling his fingers deep inside her, enough to send her wailing
He abruptly pulled his hand away and used the wet heel of his palm to slap at your cunt. Cum, arousal and redness smeared all over your back side.
With an iron grip on your locks, he turned you around, using the same hand to slap your face to the side
"Sloppy slut," He howled, seeing how tears bloomed from your eyes. "I'm gonna leave you drenched, let's see how much cum you can take."
Frankie Morales
"Cum on her face." Joel orders. and Catfish has to pretend not to understand.
He looks away from the wall -where he had perched his gaze in an attempt not to look at what was happening before him- and over his shoulder, to Joel.
He holds that dangerous glint in his eyes as he sips the amber liquid from his glass.
"You heard me." He repeats, and his eyes linger on the growing tent of Catfish's jeans.
He has to look at you, spare you some dignity. Your bruised body draped over the coffee table. Your eyes flutter open, looking for him in the dimly lit room
He holds room for a moment of hesitance, almost flinching when Joel sighs and plants his glass on the table
From the second his boots plant on the floor in front of you and you get on your knees, he feels remorse all over him
You flinch at the zipper, but your eyes stay observant, and the flicker of eager goes unknown to him
He's like a god, and you are his foolish servant, waiting for a drip of his mercy
He get's it over with quickly, hand fisting his cock in quick motions until he grasps your chin gently and aims at your cheeks
Your eyes clench but your mouth parts with a silent gasp, the thick substance coating your face; his groans echoes in your ears, a sweet melody
He doesn't see the way your tongue darts to lap at his juice, but Joel does
Dieter Bravo
Of-fucking-course Javier would be bragging about how you asked him to cum all over him
Whiskey would say something similar, and it woudl get him reeling
The clock strikes 12 on friday and he's hauling you to his room, slamming you on the bed and locking the door - against Catfish's wishes
He's been pounding into you for fifteen minutes when he speaks up, voice hoarse and groggy "Why the fuck haven't you asked yet?"
Your tired face scrunches in confusion, attempting to escape his grip. "What?"
His hand laces into your hair and pushes your face into the pillow, fucking into you with a renewed- fueled by hate - vigor
He seethes, slapping your bruises backside "To cum all over ya, cumdump."
Your face warms and you shake your head hastily, tears blossoming from shame
Now he has a plan
Your hands are bound to the bed frame, and almost every inch of you is covered in him by next day's noon
You body shivers with unease, trying to rub off the flaky sensation
Honestly, when I first put this request in I knew it was going to be fantastic as you are. Fantastic as you always make every single thing. This was NO short of it, it was pure and raw them.
My main thoughts that made me have to change my panties (lol) were Joel putting me in my place and making me ride his boot only for him to not let me cum when I'm at the edge. And him obviously having to reassure himself I'm his and only his even if he has to share with the others.
AND Frankie's scene. God's sake. Reader finally getting something from him after yearning for him for so long, and the cherry on top was that Joel saw it all. And now he knows she's got a thing for Frankie and I'm wet and my mind's spiraling just by thinking how Joel's going to twist it in his mind.
The main lesson here is: I'm not here for my pleasure and they don't care about it. Because let's be honest, even if Javier, Whiskey, Marcus (c'mon, Marcus) did it —in their way—, they all did for their own pleasure.
I LOVE YOU, RED. I missed you so much and can't wait for the next part. My heart aches because I know this little heaven will end someday but I'm grateful for all of your work and for you.
Been thinking of how the Fall From Grace guys would act if reader got pregnant and had a son. I imagine they would all love him and dote on him, thinking of him as their own.
Joel would show him how to build and mend things, gently explaining each movement as he hammers nails and measures. Acacius would wrestle with the kid and teach him how to hunt. Whiskey would treat the boy like his pride and joy, teaching him how to ride a horse and crack a whip.
I have no clue what the other men would be like haha. Just me daydreaming.
omgggg this is soooo cute! (and twisted!)
I can totally see them like that!!!
and then the others
Javier Peña
piggy back rides
would be kind of nonchalant and not very emotional, but would definitely support the kid
would be the one to teach him how to shoot once he’s old enough, of course because it’s much needed
would bring him along in his smuggling trips as a distraction
Oberyn
would definitely teach him battle and fighting skills
the child is HIS son in his mind
very protective
Dieter Bravo
negligence at it’s finest
would complain on the kid being around
Catfish
so much pain
he reminds him of his boy
still would do his best to get him out of there and teach him to be good
But if you could pic one song that you feel matches the vibes for each man, what do you think the songs would be? (I think about all of them too much at this point 🤣)
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
blakekathryn
titsay
tangentwithtanner
kianamaiart
discoholicmusic
