#❪ ⋅ ◆ ⋆ — i want you like a kiss that's long and overdue ┊❛ wanted ship ❜ ❫

[kiwisbell]

helen ; chapter five

be seeing you

Si vis pacem, para bellum. Or, the choice.

series masterlist | my masterlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), john wick AU, hitman!joel, husband!joel, established relationship, artist!reader, love as worship, sacrilege in the name of romance, flashbacks, graphic violence, guns, blood + injuries, tess cameo, childhood/religious trauma, criminal underworld, secrecy/lies, betrayal, ANGST, bamf miller bros, smut, fingering, joel is an emotional munch, shower sex, unprotected PIV, handjob, male whimpering, conflicting emotions, orgasms aplenty, Big Angst and Big Sad but also Big Epiphanies, ambiguous ending, i'm getting emotional writing these tags, it feels so final, the typical alcohol/smoking/profanity, dividers by @/saradika word count: ~ 9.3k a/n: hi, friends. i can't believe we're already at the end of the main story, and tbh if i think about it too much i'll probably cry. i want to thank @cavillscurls for beta reading this chapter as always and giving me the guidance and support i need. we'll have an epilogue after this chapter, so there's still more to look forward to, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy and thank you so so much for reading. xoxo prev | next

Her eyes are so sad, you think, stepping back to take in the full scope of the canvas. It’s doused in paint from corner to corner, still wet to the touch, the woman and her lover intertwined so thoroughly that it’s difficult to tell where they both end. It’s in shades of glum blue and flecks of angry red and brown where his eye watches you. But it’s her eyes that cannot lift to meet yours. It’s her lashes that fan across her cheeks as she casts her gaze toward the bottom edge where the canvas is wrapped taut around the wood. 

The sun will soon rise, but you haven’t slept. The contours of the sky are washed in a haze of greys and pale blues and light pink and the air smells warm, heavy—a storm about to roll in. The clouds on the horizon are thick with a blackening rage. You sit in the alcove by the window and put your temple to the cool glass. You yawn. Joel does not come back.

“Do you think it's true,” you asked him one night, your head on his chest, hand on his heart, “that art makes nothing happen?”

Joel, drawing shapes on your back, dozing off in the golden light of the sunrise, frowned. “Someone tell you that?”

“It's something my art teacher used to say,” you told him. “No matter how much it moves people, it doesn't do anything.”

“Your art teacher sounds like a fuckin’ downer.”

You laughed, hiking your thigh up over his hip and playfully biting his jaw. “So it's bullshit?”

“I think,” said Joel, tucking his chin to kiss the top of your head, “that your art makes people feel. It brings ‘em together. It's important because it's yours.”

You propped your head up on his chest and threaded your fingers through his too-long hair, overdue for a trim. A curl draped over his forehead, his beard patchy and soft under the pads of your fingers. “Sometimes I wonder why you chose me,” you said. “I wonder why the universe brought you to me.”

Joel shook his head, guiding his rough, callused fingers up your arm, curling them around your wrist, gently prodding your veins. “Wasn't the universe,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t a choice. I was yours the second I saw you. So, I guess it's your fault.”

You just rolled your eyes and kissed him, mouth to smiling mouth. 

Your paintings may be yours, made with life and energy and colour, but when they are finished, they don’t move. They are stagnant as a heavy rock beneath a cliffside, washed over and over again by the cresting waves, its salt stolen for the water, eternal damnation to a fate of non-movement. And sometimes an artist will walk under the cliff, shove their easel into the fleshy ground the way a man erects his country’s flag in the earth he has stolen, and paint the rock. The artist is moved by the breathtaking colours of the shore and the way the wind flutters through the grass. But the rock does not budge. It never will. 

Your art will never erupt from the boundaries of the canvas and tell you what it means. The lovers in your painting will not tear open their mouths like the seams holding a wound together. They will not tell you what they want, need, crave. They are you, and that is what you hate—because dimpled flesh and lustful fingers and the press of his mouth to her throat cannot tell you what you’re supposed to do. 

You had become complacent in his love for you. You had let him press his worn hands to your body and pull your soul out through his mouth and you had been a wife, while all the time there was a stranger who occupied his heart, a spirit in an abandoned body. All the time, he'd been haunted. And although you had loved him, your love had not been enough to exorcise the guilt and trauma, pecking at him, an eagle at his liver. 

Crossing the room and sitting back down in front of the easel, you press your fingers to the corner of the canvas. The paint is cool to the touch, and you leave behind fingerprints where your signature should be. Pulling your hand back, you examine the accumulation of colour, the blues and reds swirling into the deep purple of a bruise, the bodies on a canvas that may only ever mean something to you, and you wonder, Is this all I am? A cautionary tale, a love lost? A fucking footnote at the end of a clause that reads: “See, for example, the one who never loved deeply enough to make it count”?

You bring your hand to your face to wipe away the tears beneath your eyes and blink hard at the sting, realising you’ve smeared paint across your cheekbones. 

In the bathroom, you scrub furiously, the cloying scent of it clinging to your throat and your tear ducts, washing away the evidence of their entwined bodies, their love, your pain. 

Once, you tried to get Joel to paint. You sat behind him on your bench, your legs bracketing his hips, your paintbrush in his hand. 

“I don’t know where to start,” he said.

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear as you spoke. “There’s no rulebook.”

He tried to turn his head and kiss you, but you nipped his ear in reproach. “Remember when you took me out driving at the airstrip because you wanted me to feel the road? Think of this like feeling the canvas. Go on, cowboy. Make nothing happen.”

Joel’s painting still hangs over your shared bed. The intruders never found it, or never cared enough to destroy it. It’s a candle, just a candle, its lines imprecise, the paint unevenly applied in places, the shine of the flame more orange than yellow. But it’s a painting, so the candle always burns. He titled it Love. 

The pain still sits low in your chest, pulling down your heart as if tied to it by a string. But Joel is still out there, fighting his way back to you, the way he always has, always will. You look down at your left hand, clutching the edge of the marble vanity, and decide to clean your wedding ring. 

“I’m sorry, brother,” says Tommy, turning the gun on Joel. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” growls Joel, struggling against his bonds. The clip rattles faintly in his brother’s hand as a tremor courses through him. 

“He’s following my orders,” says Cabrera, clapping his hand down on Tommy’s shoulder. “Fascinating what a man will do when he must consider his family’s well-being.”

Joel sucks on his teeth, his eyes not once leaving his brother. 

“It's my son,” Tommy says through his teeth. “It's Maria. If I don't do this—”

“Yeah? You gonna kill me, Tommy? Is that why your hand’s shakin’?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” his brother snaps. “You think I want to do this? I gotta save my family, Joel. You know what that's like.”

“All I’ve done for you,” says Joel, his hands curling into fists behind his back, “and you put a bullet in my head?”

“Not just your head, Joel,” says Cabrera. “When we're done with you, we’ll take your pretty girl as payment for my son’s life.”

Joel growls like a dog, blood roaring in his ears. “Kill me yourself, you goddamned coward. Kill me yourself and don’t you mention my wife again, or I swear to Christ—”

“You take His name in vain a lot for a nonbeliever,” says Cabrera, pulling his sleeves through his coat and setting his teeth as he looks toward Tommy once more. “Do it.”

“Yeah, brother,” Joel says darkly, “do it.”

Tommy nods once, planting his foot and pivoting. Five distinct sounds of handguns cocking echo throughout the warehouse as Tommy points the barrel between Manuel Cabrera’s eyes.

“Now that I’ve got a gun to your head,” he says evenly, “you can go ahead and pull that contract.”

Joel at last twists his wrists free of the ropes that bind them and shucks down the sleeves of his jacket to rub the raw skin. Not one soul does a goddamn thing to stop him as he rises to his feet. His chest heaves, his open lungs coarse and wet with a brittle rage, his exposed heart throbbing red, transparent as the stained glass windows of the church.

God does not tolerate anger, said the Sisters, again and again, bringing down the whip across his back. Sinew and bone and skin peeling back to lay bare some tender part of him they sought to rot out. Put your energy into His worship.

Slowly, Cabrera lifts his hands, sneering. “Your wife,” he warns, “and your unborn son—”

“Are family,” says Tommy. “Just like my brother. Now tell your guys to put down their guns and I won't kill you where you stand.”

Joel joins Tommy at his side. “Took you long enough,” he says under his breath. 

“Got held up,” he says. “Your wife’s a good artist.”

“Yeah, whatever. You bring me a gun?”

“I’m sure you can find one yourself.”

“Jesus, Tommy. I’m too old for this.” Joel turns to Cabrera and glares at the same stubborn arrogance that once gleamed in his son’s eye. “You pull the contract, and I’ll leave for good.”

Cabrera’s laugh weans out in the air like rings of smoke. “You think you can really leave, Joel? You think that there won't be consequences for what you've done to my son?”

“Yeah,” says Joel, “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“And you?” Cabrera’s lip curls up at Tommy, whose gun no longer wavers in his grasp. “I promised your wife and child security. You’re willing to throw that away?”

“My wife and child are safe because I don’t take deals from men like you,” says Tommy. “You trusted a Miller to turn on his own blood, Manuel. That was stupid. Now pull the contract.”

“So this is your great suicide mission.” Cabrera smiles, a man who knows he has lost or a man who still expects not to. “A man who has seen Hell does not willingly descend back into its depths—not unless he likes the taste.”

Joel feels the corner of his mouth twitch, a wound on his cheek reopening. “Maybe I do,” he says plainly. “Maybe it’ll taste even better when I take you down with me.”

The gleam in Cabrera’s eye shifts as his gaze flickers behind Tommy. Night has since descended, and yet the predator’s eye glints in anticipation of the hunt. Joel turns and shoves his brother out of the way—just as the shot rings out. 

He hears Tommy’s breath punch out of him as they both hit the concrete hard. Joel tears the handgun from his brother’s grasp and puts a bullet between each of the two men behind them. He rolls behind one of the hulking bodies and holds up his weight as a shield against the incoming bullets. Tommy takes the dead man’s gun and fires at the remaining three assailants. Only one shot misses, but Joel sends his brother a look anyway and finishes the job. 

“Rusty,” grunts Tommy, pushing himself to his feet. 

Joel grimaces as he accepts his brother’s outstretched hand, his wrists bleeding from the relentless rub of the ropes. “He ran,” he says, grinding his teeth. “Goddamn coward. Just like his son.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, by the way,” says Tommy, giving Joel the dead man’s gun and snatching back his own. “Saved your ass.”

“And he got away.” Joel kicks his chair, and the clattering echo of metal reverberates like a choir off the cavernous walls. His hands flex, open, closed, open, closed, until they make tight fists and he can see nothing but red and the silver moon mocking him through the broken windows high above. 

“Joel…”

For a moment, he hears the young boy his brother once was, whispering across their shared bedroom to him in the middle of the night when they were both meant to be asleep. 

Joel… Are we going to be okay?

“I gotta finish it, Tommy,” he says quietly, his hands shaking loose. Parts of him bite and sting, touched by new and old wounds alike, and he wants to come crawling home to you. He wants to curl into your side and wash away the blood in your cleansing pool, daisy and honeysuckle, some faraway field where you are the warden, where he knocks on the door to be let in, to be gathered, covered in white, buried, unearthed. 

“Was he right?” asks Tommy. “Do you… enjoy this?”

Joel casts his eyes toward the ground, his trembling hand, the gleaming band on his ring finger, his skin speckled with blood but the metal pristine. “I don’t know,” he says. 

This is who you are, Cabrera would tell him. The Sisters: Your place is here, under God, under His word. And God Himself, silent as the air, the ringing in his ears only ever quieted by the soft brush of your knuckle across his cheek, the whisper of My Joel in his ear. 

“Think hard on it,” says Tommy, “because you may like it, but you’ve gotta consider if your revenge is worth more than what you’ve already got. And if you choose wrong, Joel, you’re gonna lose no matter what.”

A figure leans stone-still against the wall by the hotel room door, the gleam of a blade in the soft light the only indication that it is not a mere shadow. 

“Hey, kid,” says the apparition. 

Joel nods in greeting. “Tess. Could get in trouble with that knife out in the open.”

“You expect me to keep your girl safe with just my fists?”

“You make it sound like you couldn’t.” Tess snorts, and Joel places fifteen gold coins in her waiting palm. “I appreciate you doing this.”

Tess peels away from the wall. “You and your brother are paying me good money to babysit a door. I think I can live without the thanks.”

“Still,” he says, “you did us a solid.”

Tess, who itches at the prospect of gratitude as much as any other gun-for-hire, shrugs. “Everyone’s saying you’re coming back. That true?”

“Just visiting,” says Joel. “On my way out soon.”

Tess flips one of the coins and turns it over and over across her knuckles, evidence of a restless energy that’s always made Joel’s eye twitch. “One way or another, huh?” she says.

“One way or another.” He shakes her hand and watches her retreat down the hall, still twirling the godforsaken coin, before he turns toward the door. Joel presses his forehead briefly to the cool wood and turns the key to seek the field that awaits him.

A key rustles in the door and Joel steps through, closing it gently behind him. Judging by the quiet click of the lock, he expects you to be asleep, but you jolt upright from your seat in the alcove and cross the room toward him.

He meets you halfway, his right hand flexing at his side. You inspect him: the gash on his cheek, the bruise on his jaw, the blood splattered on his white shirt. He makes no footfalls as he walks but you can hear every stride like thunder between your ears. You feel his hand at the back of your neck, cool from the night air, rough as the underside of a shark’s belly.

The moment coils taut between you as your hand reaches up to grab the lapel of his jacket, and he smells of iron, cologne, Joel, some paint. Maybe that smell is you, stuck underneath your fingernails, embedded in your blood. Maybe this is a mistake, maybe you could never help but fall, maybe it never mattered anyway, and you’re already snipping the final thread, unwinding the spool, and kissing Joel Miller like it’s the first time. 

He let out a small groan, tasting the first drop of water in a drought, steadying you with his arm around your waist, his hand cradling your head. He’s gentle, exploratory, careful not to jostle, to shock you out of it. You feel his heartbeat thud, strong, calm, steady behind his clothing and skin and muscle, and your body caves.

It’s coming home, you realise, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers tousling the messy curls on his head. It's the warm press of his hand to your spine where it begins to curve inward. It's a soft mouth, a plush lower lip, made for slow mornings and black coffee, for the aching release of a thumb pressing deep into a muscle knot, a wound. Old aches soothed in the space where bodies meet, beginning to colour the slate-grey world. 

It’s the exchange of gasping breaths when you pull apart, his mouth still vaguely chasing yours, opposite charge. 

You hold him tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat, your hands squeezing his shoulders. "Are you…"

Joel inclines his head. "Yeah."

"Did he..."

"Yeah."

Need pulses. Supernova. Bright as the moment of obliteration. "Can you—"

He nods vigorously. "Yeah."

Joel’s kisses are like raindrops: velvet-soft to the touch—his hands bringing the hem of your shirt up over your head, his fingertips scorching, branding, grazing the supple swells of your breasts—before the crescendo roars in your ears and he loses himself to the storm. He always does. 

There is nothing reserved about the way he shows his love. Lightning crackles across your skin where he touches you, baring you to him, his lips making a map of you, mouthing at your jaw, your throat. You hear yourself hum at the press of his lips to the spot beneath your ear, detaching from your own body, absconding with the pleasure of being close to him and leaving the fucking world behind. 

Joel staggers forward so he can press you to the wall and begins to sink to his knees. Your breath catches as he pulls down your ratty bottoms, your cotton panties, his mouth burning into your hips and your belly and the ring on your finger. 

“Joel,” you say brokenly as he clutches your fingers. Tears prickle, pressure building behind your nose, and he shakes his head, unfurling your palm like a bud in bloom and kissing its heel. Wordlessly, you watch him, your eyes shuttering, blood singing. 

Don't hurt me again. 

He understands even though the words cannot come alive on your tongue. He squeezes your hips, his thumbs dumpling your flesh, his forehead falling to your belly. 

“I’m yours,” he says. “I’m whatever you want.”

Your legs haven't forgotten the way they part so easily for him, one thigh on his shoulder, opening the core of you to his waiting mouth. His lips part, his tongue wetting them, glistening, and your stomach tightens at the sight of his eyes so black. 

You could easily cower. His hands are stained with blood. His knuckles are split. But your terror has become an arid thing, no kindling to burn, no oil to ignite. Watching him now, as eager to please as he always has been or maybe more so, on his knees like a supplicant, the hairs on your arms do not rise in apprehension. Your body does not squirm in fear. You see a broad horizon, the sun outside spilling its golden blood over the city, and you see all of him in a way you never did before. 

He’s Joel, who grew up in darkness, lashed and beaten for not believing in a false god. He’s a man who has lied and killed and yet he is no liar, no killer. He holds you as he always has, your body liquid in his hands, your mouth proclaiming the word he will follow. You're the truth he's always told. 

It still unsettles you to see the dark eclipse that warm brown, to watch his desire consume the hypnotic shapes in his irises, and wonder if that cavernous black was the last thing so many men saw before he snuffed out their lives. But there's nothing of the death shudder in the way you guide your fingers through his hair and beg him—

“Please.”

He brings his mouth to your core and parts your folds with his thumbs, slowly gliding his warm, wet tongue through your slit. You die a hundred little deaths in the split-second of that first touch, that first agony.

You sigh, your head thudding against the wall as he licks through you, his hands holding your hips in place, keeping you from writhing. Joel flicks his tongue over the sensitive pearl of your clit, the pleasure searing, and you tug at his curls to push him away even as you cry out, More, please, please. God, I need more.

He obeys you as easily as breathing, though you suspect he can barely hear your pleas, opening his mouth and flattening his hot tongue to your clit. You gasp, your core pulling taut, your eyes locking with his as the muscle undulates over, over, and over again. 

“Oh,” you whimper, your hips bucking to meet his face. He groans, his mouth working your clit, closing his lips over it and sucking. You cry out, your leg kicking, the sounds of the world muffled in his stifling closeness. Your thighs begin to ache, tensing and relaxing a hundred times over in the throes of his attention. 

And his fingers are gliding across your hip, seeking the warmth between your legs. You gasp his name, your hips flexing, as he collects your wetness on two fingers. 

“Let me in, baby,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit. It relaxes you enough to welcome the press of his fingers inside you, sinking to the knuckle, curling up against the spot he would know in his sleep. 

You whine, your body keening toward him, tugging his face back toward your pussy. He obliges with a quiet moan, and you think he needs this just as badly. 

The obscene squelch of his fingers inside you rings in your ears as he licks and sucks at your clit, his free hand grabbing desperately at your ass to keep you fixed to him. You’re crying, “Yesyesyes, Joel, please—fuck, that's it,” the pleasure stuck in the grooves of your brain. Absentmindedly, you reach for his hand and clasp it tight, your engagement ring digging into his palm. He holds you with the same fervour as he coaxes you higher, his face buried in your pussy. He grunts and groans like it's his own pleasure he seeks, his battered knuckles stinging. 

“Joel… Joel, oh, I’m…”

He knows, of course, from the telltale squeeze of your thighs around his head, the relentless crushing of his fingers in your own, your body tightening for him, cavitating, unwinding—

You come with a shout, your throat raw, writhing in his grasp as he keeps sucking, keeps licking, rubbing, pressing. You're dizzy by the time your head lolls to the side, your muscles twitching, eyes glazed, and Joel is there, pulling his fingers out just to place them on his tongue and swallow you down. 

Your breath rattles through your lungs. Joel presses his lips to your inner thigh, beard soaked in your arousal, moustache glistening. His mouth soothes your sore muscles and your eyes begin to droop. 

“You need a shower,” you say, your tongue like lead in your mouth. You gently pass your thumb over a cut on his cheek and frown. “You're all bloody.”

He nuzzles his face against your thigh, inhaling you. “I know.”

“You were gone so long.” Your voice quivers, pressure prickling behind the bridge of your nose. “I thought…”

Joel rises to his feet, his hands cradling your face. “I’m all right,” he says. “I’m here, and I’m safe, and I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You shake your head, pressing your lips together so the sob will not escape. Tracing his face with your fingers, broken in places, healing in others, you see the echo of a boy who didn't know his place in the world. You see the haunt of days gone by. A ghost still occupies the cage of his ribs. 

“I think you should tell the little boy that still lives here,” you say, putting your hand on his chest. “Tell him he’s alive. Tell him that he made it.”

Joel lowers his head, watching the way your fingers splay over his heart. He puts his hand on yours and pushes, and you feel the strong thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. 

“He knows.”

You lean forward and put your mouth to his temple. “Shower, Joel,” comes your whisper in his ear. 

He nods, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you into the bathroom. The water hits you both true, scalding, the drain circled with red. He’s naked, his back to you as he sets his hair and lets his wounds bleed what they need to. 

You lift your hands and trail them down his broad shoulders, your forehead dropping between his shoulder blades where your name is inked into his back. Joel’s muscles idly flex, his palm flat against the shower wall. His body shudders when you press your lips to the name on his back. 

Wordlessly, you bring your arms around him, caressing his side, careful of the new bruises. Your other hand drops to his steel-hard cock and you begin to slowly stroke him. The noise that wrenches free from his throat is half pleasure, half agony, his hips bucking into your fist. You bump your nose against his back, your years-old sign to Just relax, and Joel hides his face in his bicep as you work your hand over him.

“G—fuck,” he grunts. “Goddamn… honey, I—”

You squeeze him at the base and twist your hand up and down the length of him, the weight warm and heavy, your thumb coaxing out a bead of precum. Your cheek is warm on his back, your arm struggling to reach around the width of him, your chest humming at the sound of his gruff moans. 

“Let me…” He cuts himself off as you speed up your strokes, and you can feel his abdomen tense. “Fuck, let me make you feel good. Shit… let me…”

“Joel,” you say, “for once, stop trying to be my hero.”

His head falls back and you press your lips to his throat, nibbling the sensitive spot behind his ear: the old scar, that tiny circle, that hairless patch. He groans your name, and you’re smiling despite yourself, your mouth curling against his warm, tender skin. 

“Inside me,” you whisper, the pace of your fingers over his length slowing to a crawl. “Remind me how it feels.”

He turns his head to look into your eyes, his lashes dewy, blinking hard to flick away the water, brow furrowed. His moustache bristles as his lips part in a question he does not (or maybe cannot) articulate, and you’re fractured into pieces by the intricate curve of his nose, the freckles on his jaw, the silver strands in his beard. A rough hand cups the back of your neck and another takes you by the waist, and you’re flattened to the wall, your hand braced on the glass next to you as he kisses you deeply. 

Consuming, heady, warm—you give in, your hands avoiding the delicate skin of his wrists where he’s been bound, helpless. Sighing softly into his mouth, you let his kiss humble the part of you that still needs the walls you’ve built from the marrow of your anger. It circles the drain, lead-filled paint, as you remember under his hands how it feels to live.

You reach between your bodies, your leg wrapping around his waist, and slide the head of his cock through your weeping slit. Joel sucks in air through his teeth, the water lashing his back like a whip, and he surges forward, grasping you by the waist and sinking his cock into your tight hole. 

You cry out his name, burying your face in his throat and baring your teeth. Your name leaves his mouth in kind, an apparition, sounds you barely recognise anymore. As you take him inside you, the memory of who you were with him pounds at your ribcage, begging to be let out. And you covet them, selfish as you are now for fucking him this way, needy and impatient, your fingers tugging his wet locks. 

You see no point in scooping out the marrow; there is still sweetness stuck to the bones of your old life with him. Instead, you coat your teeth in this, the slow drag of his cock, the depths he reaches so easily, so knowingly. His fingers prod the bruised flesh of your hurt and yet you still guide him inside. You still pull his hair and kiss his throat where his Adam’s apple bobs and you still let him hold you close enough to splinter. 

He’s grabbing fistfuls of your ass and sucking on your throat, his thrusts sloppy as he tries to hold back, to make you come first, but you tighten, clenching down on him, making his groans pitch up into whines. 

“Joel,” you gasp, your needy fingers prickling his scalp where you pull his hair. His teeth graze your throat and you want him to bite, you want him to sink in deep, you want his jaws to latch onto your skin. You want him never to leave again. 

He comes hard. His hips buck, pushing so deep he disappears into your body, and you see the blues, browns, reds of your painting as he empties all he has left inside you. 

Panting, he drops his head to your breast, his open mouth still scattering weak, worn kisses over your skin. Your lungs expand under his palms, fingers stuck in the grooves between your ribs, his body an offshoot of yours, not the other way around. In the ringing afterlife of your pleasure, you vaguely feel him mouthing words you cannot hear. You run your fingers through his hair and enjoy the battering of the scorching water as it melts you both into one.

Later, in the sticky, humid silence of the bathroom, steam still swirling around your heads, fogging the glass, you trim Joel’s hair.

"Do you ever get scared?" you ask him, the shhhick of the scissors gliding across a chunk of his hair. "Do you ever go out on a job and think to yourself, What if I slip? What if this is it?"

Joel huffs. "It's not so much about myself as making sure the other guy goes down first."

“I think I’d be scared.” You twirl a lock of hair around your finger and let it fall over his forehead. “I don’t think I’d be able to look into someone’s eyes and take their life.”

He casts his eyes to his lap, flicking off some hair from his thigh. “One time, I thought it was over. I wasn’t quite seventeen yet, runnin’ drugs for some gangster. He sent me to El Sauzal to discreetly transport a couple kilos out of the city; someone had snitched and he didn’t want any rival gangs to find his stash. But the people there, they… They didn’t know any better. There were mothers, kids. Innocent people, y’know? Just strays. I decided I’d come back for ‘em.”

Your stomach twists. “What happened?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I was too late. By the time I got back, the whole goddamn city was on fire. The people were either dead in the streets or close to it. They didn’t do anythin’ wrong. They didn’t ask for any of it. But they were weaker, slower. I couldn’t walk ten feet without seein’ some kid wrapped up his mother’s arms, burned to a fucking crisp. So, I came back with weapons, marched into the gang’s territory, and I killed ‘em all.”

Days ago, you’d be afraid of the man whose back warms your belly where you stand just behind him. You would hesitate to reach out and put your hand on his shoulder the way you do now. But you curl your fingers over the muscled curve of his arm and his head falls back against you, spidering open, his gooey molten centre bared for you.

Joel. Just Joel. 

“Did you see the painting?” you ask him quietly. 

“I see everything you do,” he says. “It's beautiful, baby.”

You drop your gaze from his face in the mirror and set down the scissors on the vanity. “I can't pretend to understand what you've been through, Joel, and that makes things even harder. All I've ever wanted is to love you, to take your pain, and all this time there's been so much I never even knew about. And I’m sorry.”

Joel’s hand comes to cover yours, clasping your fingers. They’re warm, rough, but you do not sense the phantom blood. “If I’d told you from the beginning,” he says, “maybe I never would've hurt you in the first place. All those years I thought I was protecting you from myself, I was hurting you—the one thing I swore I would never fuckin’ do.”

“Joel…”

“Baby, don't apologise to me,” he says firmly, putting his lips to your knuckles. “Never apologise to me. And don't you let me off easy.”

“Have I ever?” you say with a halfhearted smile. 

“Yeah,” he says, “the day you let me marry you.”

You scoff. “Oh, please. Wedding planning was hell on earth for you.”

“Just because I didn't like the photographer—”

“You didn't not like the photographer, Joel. You wanted to draw and quarter the photographer.” 

He huffs like an angry dog, frowning at you in the mirror. “He kept puttin’ his goddamn hands on you.”

You laugh, brushing your thumb over the patch in his beard to indicate you're finished. “He was posing us, cowboy.”

Joel rises to his feet and closes the scissors away inside the drawer. “Posin’ you, sure.”

“He was afraid to touch you. Probably thought you’d take off his hand. And the pictures turned out great.”

“Yeah,” he says, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Way the sunlight caught in your hair, your eyes… I don't know. Beautiful.”

He was so shy the first time you kissed him. Cheeks flushed, eyes cast toward the ground, the wind ruffling his curls where it blew over the water. He was made in an artist’s image, you thought that night, the details pored over like paperwork, the sparkle in his eyes something the painter covets. But the portrait has never wilted in the years you've known him. It's grown older, sure, but it is not old. He's still shy sometimes; he still looks down when he smiles, and he still turns his cheek when you tell him he's beautiful. 

“Do you…” He rubs his palms over his thighs, looking up at you through his lashes. “Do you wish you could go back?”

It's your turn to sit. You drop into his chair, your arms curling over the back of the seat, and watch him on his journey to his knees. “I don't know, Joel,” you tell him. “I think about that day and part of me wants the magic of it back. I want the breeze and the sun and the white canopy and I want you sliding this ring on my finger. But knowing what I know now…”

“You wouldn't have married me,” he says like it's the only answer. His eyes are wet and sad and they sparkle so bright in the day. 

“I wish I’d known,” you say plainly, bringing his hand to your cheek and resting it over the cool wedding band. “I wish you would have told me everything. I wish you didn't make me question your love, even for a second. I wish you could have spared me all this anger I have—all this pain.”

He’s stone-still, a figure in a portrait, and you brush your fingers across his cheek. “But killing isn't what you are, Joel. It’s what you do. And I’m so tired of being angry.”

You say it fiercely, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth, your throat tightening. You swipe your thumbs under your eyes and meet your husband’s eye. “I love you more than my anger and my hurt have room for. And if I can love you this hard, if I can feel all this pain and still be that same girl who fell for the guy from the restaurant, then I can let myself get hurt all over again.”

Joel shakes his head, cupping your face in his hands as his eyes brim with tears. “Oh, baby…” 

“I know it's never been an easy marriage,” you say, your voice breaking, “and I’m always travelling, and I know that I can get snippy and we bicker, but I wouldn't go back to that day, Joel, because I wouldn't change anything. Even if I have to feel all of this again, I wouldn't take it all back.”

His inhale shudders through him and your heart lurches out of your chest. “I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek, catching a tear that falls. “I’ve hurt you too much to ever be worthy of what you've given me, sweetheart. I ain't a good man, or even a decent one. But fuck, if I can be good for you, I’ll pray to whatever God they want me to. I’ll scrape my knees and put my hands together and fake it ‘til I’m someone you want. I swear it, baby.”

“Joel.” You gently pry his hands away. “The life you've lived, the things you've been through… I can't change any of it. I can't be what you need all the time, and fuck, I want to be. I do, Joel. But this life is something you have to figure out yourself. Nobody should force you to believe in something that's only ever caused you pain.”

He never told you about the tattoo; you had to find it yourself. Shucking the hem of his shirt up over his head, two weeks separating the last time you’d been able to indulge in his body, you trailed your fingers up his back and paused at the sound of him hissing through his teeth. 

“Easy, cowboy,” you cooed. “Are you all right?”

Wordlessly, he turned, taking your hand and lifting it to the reddish skin around the black ink. You gasped, your fingers jolting backward as if struck by a feeler of lightning. 

“Joel,” you said tremulously, “please don't tell me you were drunk and this was an impulse decision.”

“Guys in the Marines would get tattoos that meant somethin’ to them. Easier to carry around with you when you're away.” Joel met your gaze again, your tearful eyes, and brought your knuckles to his mouth. “Tell me you want it gone, and it's gone.”

You shook your head, a laugh snaking past the lump in your throat. “Selfishly, I think it’s very sexy.”

He chuckled, kissing the breath from your lungs. 

The memory is heavy in your stomach. It's something you'll have to roll around in your mouth a thousand times before the taste begins to dissolve. 

“I need time, Joel,” you tell him. “I need to wrap my head around things. I… I can't be the girl you want right now.”

Joel brushes his thumb over your chin. “You have always been the girl I want,” he says. “If you need time, you have it. If you need a warm body, you have it. I’m whoever you want me to be. And if it ain't a husband, then… then that's okay. But I can’t promise you that I won't stop tryin’ to get my wife back. That’s not who I am.”

You sniffle, twirling the ring on his finger. “You’ll get sick of it. The waiting.”

He smiles so softly that you can feel a bud begin to bloom in the core of you, nourished by the way he keeps his hand on your thigh, absently rubbing the sore muscles there.  “I waited my whole life for someone like you to come along—someone who could give me the purpose I’d been lookin’ for. I can wait another lifetime. I can wait a thousand.” 

“You’ll resent me. You’ll start to hate me.” You don't know why it comes pouring out of you, but the gates are brittle wood and they snapped in the torrent. “I’m an angry drunk. I smell like paint half the time. I travel for work.”

Joel just studies your face, some inexplicable calm etching out the agony. “You take your coffee with milk and sugar and you can't stand it black, but you make it that way for me anyway. You sleep until noon when you're jet lagged and I sit up in bed just to watch you dream. You lie in my arms on the couch at home and ask me about my day even when you're noddin’ off. You dreamed about love when you were a little girl, the way it happens in books. You told me in your wedding vows that you'd found it with me. You think I could resent a girl like that?”

He smiles like it hurts and heals all at once, like it's a foregone conclusion, like you were meant to be loved by him. 

“Time doesn't mean a goddamn thing. I know the girl I see in front of me now. Time won't change how much I love her.”

Flipping through the list of potential venues, Joel tucked into your side, you said, “We’ll have an outdoor ceremony. No churches.”

“Baby, I won't burst into flames if I step inside a church.” Joel playfully flicked his tongue over your nipple, obscured by his T-shirt. “Tommy, on the other hand… things he's done…”

You laughed, gently pushing at his head. “No churches,” you said again. “I don't care how much more we’ll have to pay or travel to get around it. You're my husband. You're my comfort, and I want to be what's comfortable for you. Understood?”

He looked up at you, his lips parted as if on the precipice of speech. You beamed, bringing his face to yours and kissing him deeply. 

“But if the wind knocks over the gazebo, you're not getting your dick inside me on our wedding night,” you said against his mouth. Joel shook his head, yanking you on top of him and tearing the shirt from your body. Your binder landed with a flutter of loose pages to the floor. 

“You didn't kill Cabrera.”

Joel lowers his eyes. “No. He got away.”

“So there's still a contract on your head.”

“For now.”

“So,” you say with a sigh, crossing the room and digging through your bag, “you have to go.”

“I have to go,” he echoes, following you like a shadow. “No matter what… I’m finishing it. Tonight.”

You pull the switchblade from your bag, open Joel’s fist, and place the cool wood hilt in his palm. 

“Goddammit, Tommy,” he says under his breath. “He shouldn't have…”

“But he did,” you say. “He said I should be the one to have it. I think it should be yours.”

He curls his fingers over the hilt and flicks open the blade. It's light, but it seems to weigh him down. You rest your hand over his. 

“Do what you need to do.”

He drops his forehead to yours and closes his eyes, soaking in this final breath exchanged between your silent bodies, dipping his fingers in the sanctified waters and coming out unscalded. 

Bill calls Joel not a moment after he steps onto the street outside the Continental. 

“That's a heavy price on your head.”

“Yeah, Bill, I know.” He breathes in the cool air, like cigarette smoke, his nostrils stinging. Trash and a new, fresh breeze carried into the city. Nothing that stays here ever thrives. “Stayed alive so far.”

“So I hear,” grunts the Manager, “and leaving behind a hell of a lot of cleanup.”

“I won't stick you with the check,” says Joel. “It's my business.”

“I don't conduct business inside this hotel,” says Bill, “which is why I won't tell you that a certain helicopter at a certain helipad is refuelling as we speak.”

Joel smirks, flicking out his cuff to check the time. “Any reason why you aren't tellin’ me this?”

“I like you, Joel. Despite myself.” 

Silent, he waits for more. 

“Besides,” Bill continues, “we live and die by honour. And you've saved my ass more than once.”

Joel snorts. “Which time are you thankin’ me for?”

“Just take my goddamn advice and leave this world. For good this time.”

“I will,” says Joel. “One way or another. Thanks, Bill.”

High above the ground, sitting in the alcove by the window, you watch storm clouds gather over the city, darkening the sky, the sun, and your Joel, so far away, slouching calmly toward whatever end he will choose. 

It's raining. 

The first time you kissed him, a downpour suddenly swept up the both of you and you'd scrambled underneath a bridge by the water. You both laughed until your ribs were sore, holding hands as you ran, a soaking wet playbill above each of your heads for cover. 

“At least the show was good,” you shouted over the roar of the rainfall. 

Joel was mesmerised into stillness by the colours of the traffic lights in your eyes, how they shifted over the planes of your face. Starting to think like an artist, you'd tease, and he'd lean into it, a planet circling its sun. 

“It was all right,” he said, taking the playbill from your hand. “You could catch a cold. We should get a cab.”

“Always my hero.” You grinned up at him, your eyes scanning his face in that particular way they did, as if ingesting the sight of him to later put the lines to a canvas. “Did you have a good time, Joel? I mean, really. You won't offend me.”

He grimaced. “I, uh… well, see, I’m not the best judge, and… I guess—”

“Joel.”

There was a gleam in your eyes that could have been amusement or could have been hunger. He doesn't remember. He only saw you tilt your chin and lower your eyes to his mouth, to that one place the Sisters always called vulgar, obscene, a place meant only for His word—

“Can I kiss you, Joel Miller, or will you keep being all heroic?”

It was soft, gentle, exploratory. Your mouth opened his like a wound, setting the scorching blade of your lips to the gash, staunching the blood. You healed and burned him, one hand on his back beneath his jacket, the other cupping his face. It reminded him of the statue that lived in the theatre underneath the church where all the boys and girls trained. An angel cast in white marble, cradling the face of Saint Eustace. The statue was chipped where his eye was meant to be. 

He remembers the way he shuddered when you touched him like that. He remembers the chill that started in his feet and crept up his spine. Something like coming alive, settling back into his own body—no longer a spirit haunting the shell of a home but a man. 

You pulled back, but Joel curled his hand around the back of your neck and kissed you again, deeper, maybe a little too eager, too inexperienced—but you gasped, fingers curling in his hair, your body curving into his. Your noses bumped when you separated, and he remembers laughing. 

The rain is nothing like that night. It's the lash of a whip across his face, seeping colour from the world instead of infusing it with light and movement. The water by the docks slaps against the concrete and boats rock and groan against their mooring. The lights of the city are distant now. 

Joel steps out of the car. 

He marches toward his target, cocking the pistol in his hand, and calls out a name. It gets lost in the roll of thunder across the sky and lodges in his chest. 

Cabrera waits on the landing pad, looking wraithlike in a long black coat and a pair of leather gloves. His pilot fuels the helicopter nearby. Neither of them hear Joel’s voice in the air. The rising sun is what gives him away—or maybe the gunshot, as he lifts his arm and pulls the trigger. 

It does not pierce flesh. It ricochets off one of the rotor blades. He had aimed slightly to the left. 

The pilot scampers off into hiding, but the slash of the bullet through the rainfall is enough to get the attention Joel wants. Cabrera reaches inside the lining of his jacket and fires a single shot. Joel can feel it tear through skin and muscle, but it doesn't hurt. 

“Joel,” greets Cabrera. 

“Manuel.” 

His chest heaves, his jacket soaked through, the cold sinking bone-deep. 

“Let's finish this.”

The glimmer in those depthless black eyes is the panther at the hunt, relentless in its hunger, licking its chops at the sight of a challenge. For all the coward’s blood in his veins, it still pulses at the prospect of winning. 

“Like men,” says Cabrera, tossing his gun aside at the same time Joel does. “With honour. No more guns.”

And it's laughable: the thought that there is any honour left in a world like this. A world where children are beaten and lashed and trained to hold a weapon too big for their hands. A world that burns villages, butchers families, and still claims that without rules, we live with the animals. 

A world as unruly as this cannot be ruled. He never truly considered it until he saw the sad gleam in your eye, felt the empathetic touch of your hand on his face, and began to realise that maybe he should be furious. 

But because he already knows he's going to win, Joel lets his opponent land the first blow. 

The blood is tangy, near-sweet, as he swipes his forearm over his mouth and smears crimson on his shirtsleeve. It tingles faintly on his lips and crackles, warm as the melt from a late-winter snow. He feels it settle in the grooves of his palms, the hairs of his beard. He’s drowning in it. 

Cabrera hits hard, but he’s slow. He’ll take five punches in the time it takes to wind up for one. Joel brings his arm up to block the next and delivers a blow to the sternum with his knee as his opponent’s guard drops. Wide open, Cabrera stumbles a few steps back, choking down the telltale wheeze of being winded. Joel marches forward, relentless in his crusade, grasping him by the scruff of his neck, teeth bared like a mad wild dog, and bears his skull down on the side of the railing. Around them, the wind howls and lashes at his clothes, but he still hears the pained scream as if it were poured into his ears. 

Cabrera drops to his knees, and Joel grabs him again, bashing his head repeatedly against the steel bar, the lapel of an Italian leather coat bunching between his fingers, tainted by rainwater and the fist of the man who's come to take his life. 

And fuck, Joel wants to make it last. 

But there's a knife in his opponent’s hand, conjured from the darkness of his coat pocket, and Joel must release him to avoid the lethal slash of the blade. Blinking blood and lashing rain from his eyes, the man lunges with a snarl, and Joel recovers from his lost victory, stopping him with his fingers curled around his opponent’s wrist. He brings his hand to the crook of Cabrera’s elbow and uses his leverage to snap the bone.

Yowling, Cabrera drops to his haunches, the knife clattering to the ground. Joel, chest heaving, stands over him, flexing his fingers as he readies his fist for the killing blow.

His name leaves Cabrera’s bloodied mouth, accompanied by a mouthful of crimson-tainted saliva spat on the ground at Joel’s feet. 

“Joel…” He lifts his head, cradling his broken arm, and sneers. There’s a chilling glow of satisfaction in it. “Did you get your perfect life, Joel? Do you really think you’ve won? It won’t ever stop. Not after you’ve killed me, not after you’ve killed all of them. Is that what you’re going to do? Kill them all?”

He could. He has done far worse. He has spilled blood for gold coins and superficial alliances and someone else's revenge. He has stalked, stolen, lied, killed, and he could finish this now, so easily, with the flick of a blade. 

But the song of death does not call to him now. 

For so long he had trudged, unmoored, through heavy crimson blood. Like pulling at the seams of velvet, he'd sewn more lives into the sea of red and he never looked behind him to see the souls trying to pull him down at the ankles. He didn't know purpose until he saw the way the candlelight flickered in your eyes, until he tilted his head to the side and realised your smile was a new kind of beautiful from each angle. 

The rain sticks to his lashes and he thinks of an old song of prayer the Sisters used to chant. He remembers curling his fingers around one of the rosaries that hung from the large cross in the cathedral and wincing in anticipation. He thought he would burn—that the metal would leave a red stain on his palm. It never did. 

Maybe that's why he never believed. Surely, if there was a God, Joel Miller would have burned by now. 

He thinks of shopping for furniture and date nights and lazy mornings, tangled in bedsheets. Your mouth, smiling against his, whispering I love you across the breakfast table. Dancing—or swaying, more like—under the kitchen light. Loving easily, never feeling as if he must grab hold of the cross and burn himself upon it just to feel. 

Joel turns the switchblade in his hand, lurches forward, and plunges the knife into Cabrera’s chest. 

There is no noise but a faint gurgle from his mouth, his hand weakly rising to grasp the hilt. Joel drops to his knees and fishes Cabrera’s cell phone from his pocket. 

“The blade is stuck in your aorta,” he says. “If you pull it out, you’ll bleed out and die.” He puts the rain-slick screen in front of Cabrera’s face. “Pull the contract.”

A few feeble taps are all it takes, and Joel Miller is no longer a target. His name glares back at him on the screen, from two million to nothing, not the boogeyman any longer but something akin to a civilian. Joel tosses the phone into the water and turns to leave. 

“See you in hell, Joel,” Cabrera chokes, still grasping the shiny wooden hilt of the blade.

He barely hauls himself into the car, which chokes to a rumbling start. There's blood seeping through his shirt where Cabrera shot him, and his fingers shake as they pull away from the wound, the red so bright, so alive. Joel grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. 

If there’s a God, he thinks, I hope you fucking hear me now. 

Tell me that we don’t get what we deserve. Because there is nothing I deserve in this world if I cannot keep what I’ve found.

His fingers trembling, smearing blood across the screen, he makes a call. 

And your voice on the line, soft, sticky with sleep, whispering his name—just his name: Joel?—is what wrenches the first sob from his throat. 

Joel, you say, like it means something, like it's precious. A jewel pressed from dusty black coal. Come back to me. Come home. 

So he does. 

#fic: helen #kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #john wick au

[junggunz]

7 | 🔞

summary: Joker starts having dirty thoughts about you cw: fembodied!reader, smut, imagined sex/daydreaming, light size kink mention, p in v, male masturbation briefly mentioned, all characters featured are 18+ wc: 1.4k an: im bout to implode fr.

It starts out as an innocent crush. Between just Hyuk and Wooin, the two have an extensive contact list. Joker knew that at some point, he would end up taking an interest in at least one of the girls they brought around; he just didn’t think it’d happen so soon. 

Joker tries to be casual when he brings you up on multiple occasions; asking Wooin how he knows you, what he thinks about you, what you’re like, if you’re single. All the standard questions. It’s not very often that Wooin understands his peer’s thought process, but it’s very clear that he has a crush. And naturally, he can’t help but poke fun at it. It’s just too easy. 

“You like Y/N? I can put in a good word for you.” Wooin says with a smug grin. 

“I didn’t say that.” Joker murmurs, looking away to conceal the rosy tint warming his cheeks. “Nevermind I asked.”

If it had been any other matter, perhaps Joker would put up with Wooin’s taunting a little longer. But when it comes to you, he doesn’t even wanna hear the other male’s vulgar mouth tainting your name. Since you were acquainted with Wooin, it was safe to assume that there was a 50/50 chance of you being more…free-spirited. He didn’t wanna find that out through any ‘he said, she said’ he wanted to learn about you by talking to you. 

For an entire week, you’re all Joker thinks about. You occupy every bit of freespace in his already cluttered mind. He wants to know everything about you. As much as he tries to fight it off, your bedroom tendencies and naughty habits aren’t excluded from his daydreaming about you. The thoughts come gradually. Laying in bed after a long evening, he craves the comfort of you beside him. Your soft skin against his as your limbs tangle with one another, your fragrance staining his pillow so he has a piece of you even when you’re gone. 

Thinking of you comes so naturally, Joker can’t even stop his mind from treading toward more racy ideas about you. He just wanted to decompress and wind down for bed by imagining what it’d be like to cuddle and have some pillow talk with you. At this late hour in the night, the last thing he wanted was to get his blood pumping by fantasizing about you; but it happens anyway and he’s lowering his boxers.

 “Be gentle~” You playfully coo to him, placing your hands over his and guiding him to strip you out of your clothes.

Were you just teasing him? Did you seriously want him to take things slow? Joker was more than willing to mold himself into the lover you needed him to be, all you had to do was let him know. From his memory, he recalls that there was a significant height difference between you and him. The way you batted your eyelashes as you looked up at him had made a mark in his mind. Despite you not being here to tell him what you wanted, it was a safe bet that he’d have to take things slow with you in bed. 

As each piece of your outfit comes off, the garments in a heap on the floor, Joker needs a moment to stare in awe at your nude body before him. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, hungry for a taste of your soft skin yet all he can do is take in your visage. He can’t decide which part of you he wants first. Being the little nymph you are, you make the first move. You’re kissing him; why didn’t he think to start there? The sensation of your soft lips against his makes him feel like there’s fire in his veins. Not even the most high stakes fight could exhilarate him like this. Your lips move fervently against Joker’s, the energy you exude is infectious and he can’t help but get more riled up.

It’s almost pathetic how much precum is leaking out of the tip of his cock from just imagining kissing you but Joker was long overdue for some release. He couldn’t even remember the last time he masturbated, let alone to something so tantalizing. 

Fueled by you naughtily sucking on his tongue the moment it slips out to graze your lips, Joker hoists you up by the thighs; loving how his fingers sink into the tender flesh as he hauls you off to his bed. You feel so small beneath his large palms. You’re his little slice of heaven. He’s torn between wanting to savor every morsel, wanting your taste to linger on his tongue. But the other part of him craves nothing more than to completely consume you. The way you present yourself on his mattress after he sets you down eats away at his patience. Everything about your demeanor practically begs him to devour you in one bite.

If given the chance to actually lay with you, he wouldn’t even think of skipping foreplay with you. However, in this lewd little reverie that plays on the back of his eyelids as he lay in bed, fisting his cock and wishing that it was your hand instead of his own, he can’t help but get straight to the best part.

“Ah- it’s too big…I don’t know if I can take it.” You gasp beneath Joker, your eyes watering and your teeth catching on your swollen lower lip to bite back the whimper that threatens to escape.

He’s barely got the tip entrenched within you and you’re already starting to fuss when there’s still several girthy inches awaiting you. You’re trying to relax and just endure the stretch but the discomfort written all over your face is too much for him to just ignore.

“It’s okay. We’ll make it fit.” Joker reassures you, the words coming out through gritted teeth.

Your little hole is so hot and sloppy around his leaking tip, but it’s still not enough to get your high strung nerves to relent. He pushes in with shallow, eager thrusts to fit inside your tight heat. You’re gasping at the feeling of him filling you up, the gently pulsing of his veins against your walls spreading heat throughout you. Joker isn’t even halfway in yet and you’re oh so full. Hands search for anything to ground yourself before your sanity falls through your fingers as you’re split open by his achingly hard shaft.

“F-fuck!” You whine, your walls nastily sucking him in until you have taken him to the hilt.

 Joker lets out a shuddering breath as he’s entrenched within your pussy, leaning over you and pressing your spread legs so close to your body; lining up your ankles with your ears. Giving an experimental roll of his hips to see how well you’ve adjusted, the small action has both you and Joker moaning unison. Repeating the movement, it doesn’t take long until the pace picks up to a maddening tempo that he loses his mind to as the desperation to touch and please every bit of your soft body. 

“Feel good now?” He murmurs in your ear, warm breath fanning across the side of your face and making you delirious when paired with the friction of his cock rubbing up against your tight walls. So slick around him yet gripping so tight, pleasure beyond your wildest imaginations courses between the two of you.

“Oh my god…fuck…that feels amazing.” You pant out when the tip of his cock repeatedly hits that special spot within your gummy walls.

The sensation has your thighs trembling and your moans coming more frequently; the pitch and volume increasing every time he fucks into you harder.  It’s so hard and deep, it should hurt but every single one of his touches register as pleasure in your hazy mind. 

“So good…just a little more and I’m gonna cum.” He pants, holding out until he was sure you were just as close to the edge as he was.

Desperate strokes bully your orgasm out of you mere seconds before he spills into you. Warming your insides with his cum after you had so generously soaked him with your juices, Joker groans.

The fantasy ends after an explosive climax. Though it was good enough for now, Joker was going to need to experience your touch soon before it really drove him crazy.

#arminsumi prompts #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #joker x reader #joker smut #joker scenarios #junggunz.txt

[catcze]

⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡

A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔

⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」

He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.

He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.

Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.

He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡

"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"

You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.

He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.

"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."

Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.

When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.

Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.

⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」

He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.

Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.

What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?

It's with you that he finally finds his answers.

"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"

Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.

You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.

"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."

"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."

"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"

"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.

Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.

⠀「 LYNEY 」

A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!

My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.

Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!

And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!

"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.

"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.

"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.

You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."

"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."

"Okay. Final answer?"

"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"

You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.

When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.

You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"

⠀「 KAVEH 」

For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.

When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.

If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.

For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.

"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."

"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.

You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.

When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.

"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.

"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.

You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.

"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.

"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.

⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」

With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.

He intercepts a lot of your attempts!

Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.

Good thing you always rise to challenges.

From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.

"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."

"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."

"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"

And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.

When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.

"Okay. Now close your eyes."

"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.

"Please?"

"Tell me why, first."

"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"

And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.

When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #Neuvillette x reader #Lyney x reader #Kaveh x reader #Alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #Wriothesley #Neuvillette #Lyney #Kaveh #Alhaitham #genshin impact

[donatellawritings]

if requests(?) are open what do you think about bff!rafe whos absolutely down bad for reader ☺️

bff!rafe is honestly the most obsessive man ever and has no sense of boundaries ngl

truth be told, you and rafe haven’t even known each other that long, barely a year, to be exact. when you had moved into the pretty little baby blue house that overlooked the busy docks and calm waters, rafe had just made his long overdue return to figure 8. you were fresh out of college, and as free as a baby bird — with a somewhat matured rafe who was patiently waiting on the perfect moment to swoop in and teach you to to fly — his way.

you see, rafe was the man of his family now, and as the leading man of the cameron lineage, he had no choice, but to become painfully aware of the damage he could cause. you shared the likeness of a baby deer — naive, dainty, and a little too welcoming … much to your own detriment, at times.

so, rafe took it upon himself to take you under his wing, making sure that he always had you in his line of vision. i mean, if he didn’t look out for you, who knows what kind of trouble you’d get into? which is exactly why he settled for being your best friend in the whole world, as you like to say — that is, until you’d finally snap out of the pink tinted dreamland you seemed to live in, and realize that you were better off just being his — being rafe’s girl.

“y’wanna try some?” you hummed, your manicured hand holding out the wand of your new tube of dior gloss as you mushed your swollen lips together, puckering your now shimmery lips in the mirror as you adored your new lipgloss.

met with silence, you rolled your eyes as rafe remained stood tall and authoritative behind you, his eyebrows furrowed as he fiddled with the collar of his polo shirt, “c’mon, kid — don’t have time to play games,” he shrugged his shoulders, before nudging the side of your jaw with the side of his ringed finger.

to anyone who wasn’t aware of your unique dynamic with rafe — the sight of a young girl dressed in nothing, but a mesh bralette that displayed her hard nipples and tiny silk shorts that sucked up into her ass, a bit bent over a vanity with a much taller man’s tented crotch ghosting right behind the curve of her ass, would be pretty incriminating.

but, in your eyes, it was just you and rafey, your very best friend in the entire world.

leaning back onto the balls of your sore feet, you completely missed the way rafe took in the ripple of your asscheeks as you let out an entitled huff, “i don’t want to go golfing,” you mumble, your arms crossed firmly across your swelled tits as you send rafe a bratty frown in the mirror.

mocking your bratty behavior with an exaggerated pout, rafe lets out a feigned whimper, “aw, baby doesn’t wanna hang out with rafey anymore?”

shoving the gloss-coated wand into the tube, you toss it onto the vanity, your bouncy blown-out hair whipping against rafe’s chest as you push your weak palm into rafe’s hard torso, earning another condescending laugh from the blue-eyed man, “i don’t want to hang out with you, anymore,” you announce, eyes glazed with frustrated tears.

“y’sure? got lots of pretty girls who would love for me to be their best friend,” rafe cocks his head to the side, a knowing smirk tugging on his pink lips as he watches you carefully think about your next words.

with a hesitant nod, you sniffle, “i’m sure.”

“okay — i’ll miss you, princess,”

your doe eyes widened with genuine concern as rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your hair, before taking a few steps backwards from you, turning to reach for the handle of your bedroom door. he can’t leave — you were only kidding!

“stop! i was just kidding,” you panic, perky tits bouncing as you rush over to rafe who is biting back a cocky grin.

forcing a solemn expression, rafe gently raised a ringed hand to hold your jaw, “can’t joke like that, huh? almost made me get a new best friend, pretty girl,” rafe twists the knife, his stomach growing warm and fluttery as he watches you lightly bounce on your feet, before accepting your outstretched arms as he carries you back to your pillow and squishmallow-covered bed.

“sleep over?” you questioned sweetly.

“of course, kid.”

｡⋆୨୧˚

wet lip smacks and muffled moans filled the four walls of your bedroom as you laid semi-underneath a now shirtless rafe. one leg hooked over his hip as your hands cupped each side of his strained neck. your puffy lips were nearly raw and tingly from rafe’s constant suckling and nipping at your mouth. rafe’s hand kept a light grip on your throat as he kept you engrossed in the slippery kiss, tongues dancing together wildly as rafe fucked your mouth with his.

pushing out a sleepy whine, you said your delicate hand to rafe’s collarbone, gently pushing, “rafey — m’lips hurt,” your words were jumbled as rafe groaned into your mouth, his lips continuing their relentless assault.

your sloppy little makeout sessions with rafe were a common find when it came to spending a day with him, and you didn’t see anything wrong with it — i mean, he was your best friend forever, he would never steer you in the wrong direction.

shutting you up with a slip of his tongue inside of your mouth, rafe’s hand sliding to cup your cheek as you are quick to wraps your swollen lips around his slippery tongue, gently suckling the pink muscle. you continued sucking on his tongue for a few more minutes, your mixed spit shining on the corners of your mouths and messily smeared on your chins from wet lips.

sliding a calloused, ring-clad hand to cup your soft ass underneath the silk of your shorts, rafe patted two light slaps to your skin, earning a needy moan from you as your wrapped your slick lips around his tongue once more, in a sealing kiss, “sorry — y’taste good,” you mumbled, your sore lips pulled into a sorry little pout as rafe nods knowingly, gently pulling your head to lean against his chest.

rafe never missed the way you gazed up at him, your doll eyes sparkling with adoration and respect — you never judged him, and he appreciated that.

“s’okay, kid.” he responded, mushing your cherub cheeks as your lips remain in a silly smile.

you really had the bestest friend in the whole world!

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #bff!rafe #rafe x reader

[s1m0nth3swag]

Hmmm I’m kinda curious on how Francis would be like as a dom in bed!

Ohhhh definitely!

I feel like Francis def is too tired to dom most times, but omg, when he isn't tired for once....

This was uhm

Harder to write than I thought! It probably really isn't good so I slapped some headcanons at the end to make up for it a little

Tysm for the ask though, Anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with minimal plot, established relationship, GN!Reader, Dom Francis, Francis has vacation and uses it properly

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

If you were serious, you barely know how you ended up in this situation. You started today thinking it'd be just like any other day, your boyfriend coming home really late from work, so you'd have the apartment to yourself until he returned. Contrary to that belief, Francis had instead taken a day of vacation. He had grumbled something about it being long overdue.

From then, you had thought he'd lounge around all day. He'd probably just sleep a bit more, lay on the couch, maybe help out a little with chores - that's where you were wrong again.

Once the two of you had finished the chores around the small apartment, he grabbed you by the hips harshly. "Francis -" you yelped out, but he already pressed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. If it was up to him, he'd have you right here, in the middle of the hallway. That's just the way Francis was, when he did have the drive to fuck you, he'd barely even think about where.

In the end, you were the one to drag him to the bedroom after he had already pulled off your top and discarded it somewhere. He trailed kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, nipping at the skin softly. "Want you s'bad..." He groaned, grinding his growing erection against your crotch. "Bet you want me too, hm? Can feel how needy you are." He adds, chuckling as he rubs small circles on your waist. You huff and pull him down towards you, kissing him feverishly.

The rest of your clothes are soon discarded - Francis rarely took his time with you. He watched the way you squirmed and whined as he slowly pushed inside you, though. He knew you just wanted to feel him. When it came to teasing, Francis had probably won a gold metal in it at some point. "So good for me, hm? It's always so tight..." he sighs lazily. His hands rest at your hips, pushing you down so you can't grind against him. You whine in protest. "Francis, please.. don't be mean.." You mumble, and he just chuckles as he presses a kiss against your cheek. "Just taking my time, love.. weren't you just complaining about me being too fast?" You scowl at him, but Francis just grins as he keeps pushing into you ever so slowly. Surely, this had to be torture for him as well? If it was, he didn't let it show one bit.

After taking his sweet time, Francis made it up to you by being way too goddamn rough. He practically abused your hole while muttering and groaning praises into your ear. You desperately held onto him, nails scratching his back. "So good, hm..? God, swear you feel heavenly..." Francis groaned into your ear, trailing kisses over your jaw. He placed hickeys and bite marks all over your neck, and you were sure with how he was treating you right now that a few on your thighs would follow soon.

As always, Francis couldn't help but finish inside you after you had reached your climax as well. He watched your slightly fucked out expression and the way his cum slowly flowed out of you, leaving kisses on your thighs, marking you up just like you thought he would. "Always so good for me, baby." He then hummed, placing a soft kiss against your lips while you snuggled against him.

I just really think Francis is a tired man and therefore rarely doms. Just takes too much of his energy.

However, I think he really really loves marking his partner. Like full-on hickeys all over your body, especially your thighs, though (he definitely is a thigh guy). Also very big on praising, though he would degrade you if you asked him to. I just think that in his mind, it's like "in love with my partner, have to tell them how much I appreciate them, especially when I'm literally taking their ability to walk!" Because I just KNOW he likes being rough. He just can't help but love the way your face contorts in pleasure at every thrust.

Francis would also 100% hold you down so he could have his way with you. He'd also slightly choke you because he holds you down by your neck when he wants to watch your reactions (this is totally not because I think that'd be hot. Nah uh.)

Also, I don't really think he is actually that kinky (or he just doesn't know that what he likes is considered a kink because that man has never spoken to anyone about it). I think he always makes sure you cum first, either makes you cum all over again before properly fucking you or denying you an orgasm as he tests how long he can hold one back himself.

Also, with a fem partner, he is so into eating them out. Genuinely obsessed with it.

With a masc partner, I think he'd be the type to touch them while just watching their expressions

he is so big on watching his partner. He just wants to make sure he's making you feel good still, even though he definitely has your favourite spots memorised by heart.

Anyway! Really short omg I'm sorry. I'm currently obsessing over School Bus Graveyard, so uhm! Not many Francis thoughts in my brain. I hope this isn't as bad as it looks to me (it's definitely worse, but I will not be bothered (I will panic about it))

#francis mosses #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #x reader #milkman that's not my neighbor #milkman x reader #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses headcanons

[helluvapoison]

For All to See

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x Lilith

Lilith has Lucifer and Lucifer has Lilith. Their eyes are well trained for snakes in the garden, they’re able to watch each other’s backs with ease. Everyone wants to know, just who the fuck are you to the King and Queen of Hell?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ���̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Technically speaking, they don’t need you

• Your heart lurches at the constant reminders

• Everywhere you look there’s capable hands doing anything you could do, and doing it better

• The guards around the Morningstar estate are appreciated and skilled but merely for show, their wise (albeit chaotic) council of Princes have never led them astray and they have more willing servants than they know what to do with

• It’d be impossible to forget how agonizingly obvious it is that you’re not needed beside them. Occasionally it was a paralyzing thought. You were nothing without them but they could continue on just fine without you

• And Lilith, ethereal, graceful, benevolent Lilith, noticed this. Her own heart ached for you, she loved you!

• You tenderly brushed her hair when she hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Combined with her husband’s efforts, you would make her feel beautiful when her mind told her the opposite. You would be on your feet beside her all day, shooting little thumbs ups that restored her energy when she was nearly depleted. Your unfailing attendance from her concerts to afternoon tea brought a comforting sense of normalcy to the disorder of the realm she ruled

• Lucifer, who loved you no less than she, was furious at himself for not realizing on his own

• You were his alarm clock, gently coaxing him out of bed and making the day seem more inviting than it did when he opened his eyes. You snuck into his room when everyone else (Lilith aside) was banished, claiming only to drop off a tray of snacks but would sit with him for hours on end just so that he wouldn’t be alone. When the world was too big, his own thoughts too heavy, it was you that made him feel bigger and stronger

• And you thought of yourself as inconsequential!?

• Blasphomy.

• They would not let this stand another fucking second

• They covered all their bases, working from the inside out

• You were instructed to join them for a portrait. Lucifer picked your outfit while Lilith did your hair then they sandwiched you between them. It took several hours and you ached from standing still for so long but the painting looked absolutely marvelous. Lilith ordered it to be hung in the lobby

• “Not the bedroom?” You asked quietly, tilting your head up at her

• “As much as I’d love to, no. This needs to be seen by our guests! Besides, I have your darling face right there every morning.” She replied sweetly and kissed your cheek on her way out

• You were utterly floored when you saw a detailed third chair, right to Lucifer’s, in the throne room. Meetings were only held here once a month for the public to bring their qualms to the royals but they took a full day to bring to conclusion. Lucifer’s smile widened at your reaction

• “Do you like it?” He asked knowingly, “It’s for you.”

• “Me? I— yes! Yes, it’s lovely. I just don’t understand, I-I was alright standing.” You blink rapidly, your mind racing to catch up with his words

• “Don’t be silly, dove! These matters are a bore and take eternity. This was long overdue.” Lucifer takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, smiling at you apologetically

• Polygamy wasn’t something to clutch pearls over down here and you were never a dirty secret. Magazines, networks, media just happened to only feature the King and Queen of Hell (Later, Lucifer would always point out the blurry spec that was you behind them or to the side or cut off the page) So when you were yanked between them during their red carpet debut, you stared at the camera flashes like a deer in the headlights. Their grips on either of your hands kept you from floating too high

• While your view on the situation changed drastically, it wasn’t atonement enough for Lilith and Lucifer. They never wanted you to feel immaterial ever again

• “You’re not nothing to us,” Lucifer said, holding your left hand. He hid his face in the crook of your neck where you could feel him smiling against your skin

• “We would never abandon you,” Lilith whispered while slipping a matching golden band around your finger. She had you sitting in her lap, facing away from her. She held your hand up for you to see the new obvious, your next reminder of their devotion for you

• Suffocating on their love for you, you choked back a sob to not ruin the moment. Lilith wrapped her arms around you and Lucifer, bringing you both closer to her heart

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lilith morningstar imagine #lilith morningstar headcanon #lilith morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader x lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader x lilith

[miguelhugger2099]

HIII tehehe

so imagine this, miggy and wifey reader coming home from a date and reader is just giggling as she remembers him being kind to all the kids who came up to him wanting to play with him. and reader is just like 'what if i just gave him one instead'

miggy notices his wifey reader giggling to himself, mini fluff moment happens. then reader exposes herself and then

~smut~

Baby Maker

long overdue and was very much in the accidentally deleted category like everything in this ask was written it just needed an ending before POOF gone. so, a thousand apologies i could not say sorry enough nonie. i tried to write down everything i remembered so i could get it out as soon as possible. as always, if you're not satisfied, this ask can be rewritten for a third time Art: feminine.999 on instagram

After a long and tiring winter, Miguel was eager to take you out for a picnic date in the warm sun again. It was always a sweet reminder of your time as young lovers and just having the simplicity of being in each others presence along with some food. So whenever the time was right and the temperature was warm enough, Miguel would plan and whisk you away to the park at the same hill you two have decided would be your spot. "Miguel just hand me something." You smile at him and stick your hands out, the picnic blanket hanging lightly on your forearm. Miguel carries both the cooler and basket as well as your purse on his shoulder. He had only asked you to fold the blanket but you wanted to help so you held onto it instead while he insisted he had everything else. "Ah-ah." He says, shaking his head. "Tengo todo, mama. I'm okay." Obviously, he was. He could carry several more things if he wanted to but you felt really bad watching him. "Give me the keys then. I'll drive." You cross your arms. In truth, he didn't want you to drive- he's a little traditional when it comes to handling things on his own while you rested freely from responsibilities. But, he sighed and instead of protesting, he nodded. "Keys are in my back pocket." He pouts dejectedly. You found it cute and rolled your eyes. You reached around him to grab the keys from his pocket, giving a teasing squeeze to his ass which he jumped at. "Oye." He says with a playful warning tone, squinting his eyes down at you. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, as well as a spark in his eyes. "C'mon." You shrug and skip in front of him, pretending to be innocent. At the car, Miguel was finishing up putting everything in the trunk, massaging the palms of his hands to ease the strain of holding onto the handles of the cooler and basket. You place the blanket over everything, feeling Miguel kiss your temple and his hand sneaking around your waist. "Good?" You ask him, looking up and cupping his cheeks. Miguel leans into you, his hands on your hips to keep him steady. "Mhm." He hums as he looks back down at you. Miguel kisses your forehead then each of your cheeks before finishing it off with a long smooch to your lips. "Let's go home." He murmurs.

Before you could move, Miguel looks down after feeling something tap the side of his leg. A soccer ball rolled a bit before he skillfully rolled it under his foot and kicked it into the air so it landed in his hand. “Whoa!” A chorus of young high-pitched voices shouted in unison. A group of kids huddled by you two, marveling at Miguel. “How did you do that?” One boy gasps, his eyes lighting up in admiration. Miguel chuckles nervously, bashful of the attention of ten-year olds. “Ah–it’s a little tricky.” He hands the ball to a little girl and she waves it high above her head. “Can you show me?” She squeals and Miguel blinks, looking back at you. You covered your mouth to hide your giggles and smile. “Go.” You tilt your head at the group of kiddies and Miguel stumbles over his words but the kids already took your approval and began tugging on Miguel’s arm back to the grassy fields to play.

As you got home, you couldn’t bring down the smile on your face, cheeks hurting with how long you’ve grinned to yourself. You let out a couple of giggles remembering how the children flocked to him and how Miguel looked carrying two grown kids in his arms when his little team scored a goal. Not only had you felt warmth in your cheeks but in other places as well. “Why do you look like that?” Miguel asks after placing the bags down near the door. He’d organize things later. “Like what?” Miguel brings his hand to the side of his face and bunches his shoulders up, looking up at the ceiling with a mockingly dreamy sigh. “Like this!” You punch his shoulder and Miguel laughs, bringing his arms around you from behind and leaves little apology kisses along your neck. “I did not look like that.” You defend yourself. “Mmm, you did. You always look like that anyway. At least when it comes to me.” He mumbles against your ear, his breath tickling your senses and you squeal to move away from him but he just holds you closer. “So what is it this time? Was I extra good-looking today? Did I sweep my favorite girl, my wife, off her feet?” Miguel presses his lips on your cheek with a loud smooch. He couldn’t help teasing you a bit. “No, it was different!”

“Hmm, different?” “The kids at the park.” You feel Miguel pause and he lifts his head up and tilts it to the side after turning you around. “What about the kids at the park?” He asks, confusion swirling in his eyes. “You looked…good with them.” He huffs a quick laugh. “Okay?” “And I was thinking, y’know,” You giggle at the thought of Miguel picking you up, filling you up, carrying a baby–making him a father. He wanted to pick your brain. “What?” He squints down at you. “What if we had a baby?” Miguel’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise. “H-huh?” His voice went up an octave as his cheeks had gotten a little redder. You felt his hands tense around your hips and you secure your arms around his neck. “What if..I just gave you a baby?” You repeat in a hushed whisper. “With your help, of course.” You giggled and your flirting sent shivers down his spine. Subconsciously, Miguel’s eyes turn downwards to your stomach–imagining it swollen and growing with each passing day with just a few pumps of his cum. His eyes dilate and he feels the blood in his body rush straight down to his groin. “O-oh, God…” He groans, his breathing already getting heavy. “Are you sure? You want a baby? You want my baby?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. You could feel his hands gripping your sundress. It fell just above your knees so Miguel was already sliding his hand up under it to feel the skin of your thigh, skin still a little warm from being in the sun. “Mhm, yes, please.” You whine, feeling the rush of arousal drench into your panties from hearing Miguel hold onto his last remaining self-restraint before he fucks you silly. At your plea, Miguel wraps his arms around you and pulls you up towards him to kiss you deeply. His lips devour yours, tongue slipping past your defenses to tangle in a dance with your own tongue. One hand pushes your head closer while his other hand runs down to grip the plump fat of your ass through the fabric of your dress. Tapping it twice, he signals you to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and he hurriedly enters the bedroom. Miguel falls on top of you, bodies bouncing on the mattress but it does nothing to stop Miguel’s desire for you.

Miguel separates from your lips, dragging his wet mouth down to your jawline and neck while his hands bunch up your dress at your waist. He brings a hand up to pull down the top half of your dress and begins to leave small love bites across your breasts before licking your nipple into his mouth. With your head rolled back, your fingers run through his hair, hips attempting to grind up for some friction but with his weight on top of you–you’re helpless. “Want me to make you a mama, huh?” He growls huskily, lifting his head up and using his fingers to flick and tweak your nipples so he could watch you screw your eyes shut and your mouth parted open as you moan his name into the air. “Want me to make you all pretty and swollen with my cum, hm? Fuck…” “Oh, God–Miggy..!” Your hands at his shoulders, arching your back off the bed and writhing underneath him in a desperate attempt to make him focus on your wet pussy. Miguel can’t help but play with your tits, groping them in his hands and squishing them. He pulls your dress further down, tracing your curves and worshiping them to engrave it in his memory. Your dress now on the floor, you lay bare with just your panties. Miguel presses down on the soaking patch between your legs and you shiver. “No me jodas, Miguel. Just fuck me.” You groan and buck your hips to grind on his fingers but he chuckles and pulls away. “Dale paciencia, mi amor.” He says even though he feels the same, his cock straining against his jeans and leaving a wet spot in his boxers from dripping precum. Miguel leans back down to kiss you, hands fumbling with the zipper and he hastily shoves his boxers and pants down his legs. Deciding he was also impatient, Miguel rips your underwear apart and he bites down hard on his lips to stop him from moaning loudly at the sight of your glistening folds. Mind cluttered with lust, you don’t even notice the tear but you do feel his hard cock rubbing between your puffy pussy lips. He sighs while he collects your slick onto his shaft, his leaking tip mixing with your juices. “Mmm, fuck yes…” He shudders, thighs flexing as his muscles tensed up. Goosebumps litter his skin and he looks down at your body. Sprawled nude on the mattress while you’re already looking fucked out of your mind when he’s barely put the tip in. His cockhead catches inside and he teasingly enters. His hand places itself on your stomach, pupils blown wide open.

“Qué pasa, mi amor? Te sientes bien? Ay, que linda eres...” He purrs as he pushes inside you. “Feel me, mama.” Each inch is slow and he makes you feel the growing stretch of his cock, veins pulsing against your throbbing walls–your cunt convulses around him to suck him deeper inside your warmth. “Mine, mine, mine. So pretty, you’ll look gorgeous when I fuck a baby into this tight pussy.” Miguel whispers against your neck. His cock twitches when you claw at his back, choking out your moans as your face flushes with a warm blush. He could feel his balls aching but he held back as best as he could. His palm feels his cock from inside you, poking through your stomach and his eyes roll back. Fuck, he’s deep. “Tell me you want it. Dímelo otra vez.” He moans, slowly rocking his hips in and out of you. Your mouth had been drooling since he teased your entrance with his cock, mind blank with nothing but the desire to be bred by your husband. With a weak and broken whimper, you begged. “Wan’ it,” You squirmed. “Breed me.” Miguel’s forehead landed on your shoulder, his body hunched over as his hand went to pull your thigh on his hip and slammed into you. You screamed and held onto him before he started pounding ruthlessly into you. You could’ve flown off the bed with just how fast and hard Miguel decided to pace at. He wraps his hands to your ass and pulls your bottom half up for easier access, dragging your wet folds up and down his cock. He pants, breathing shakily as his arms tense up–veins protruding and running down all the way to his hands. Miguel then lets go, grabbing both your legs and pushes them to your chest. He folds you in half, displaying your cunt to his eyes as his main priority. He bites his lip, grunting with every pounding he gives you. His knees dig into the mattress to anchor himself as he jackhammers his twitching cock into your warm wetness. The arousal gushing out of you and rolling down between your asscheeks and onto the bed. “You’ll be such a good mama.” He moans, curling his hips so his cock arches right into your sweet spot. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly, head thrown back while your nails rake his back in streaks of red, imprinting yourself on him. You’re a squealing mess, tears in your eyes and you could barely feel your legs anymore. Face morphed with pure ecstasy as you feel each drag of his cock empty and refill you over and over again. His bulbous tip nudges against your cervix and twitches against your velvety walls and your moans turn shamelessly pornographic-like. Meanwhile Miguel gets himself off to the thought of you creaming on his cock, his balls unleashing his cum straight into your womb and getting you pregnant. He huffs, ears ringing as his mind only focuses on breeding you. He thinks to himself that once isn’t enough. Just one measly pump of his seed won’t be enough to bear you with his child. He’d have to do it more than once. He had to see his thick load seeping out of your puffy pussy folds. He wanted to see you filled to the brim, pumped full to make sure you’ll carry. He wanted to see your belly grow, creating a being that was the perfect combination of you and him.

His mind spurs him on, mouth open as he spews his own moans and  praising your tight cunt at how well it takes him. He’s pussy drunk, hips smacking and his balls slapping against you, his body pressing your legs tighter against yourself and ravaging himself into you with heavy thrusts. He grits his teeth when you scream and clench around him, pussy fluttering as you feel the release of an orgasm shoot through your body. Your legs quiver as Miguel holds onto you, eyes rolling back and drool escaping off the side of your mouth. Your cum drips into a puddled mess below you and Miguel’s orgasm follows right after you, drilling his cock until he’s balls deep. His cock twitches with each spurt of warm cum shooting out his tip, plugging into your womb. You take deep breaths but it seems impossible when Miguel keeps your legs up. His head is hung while he waits until your cunt milks every last drop of his seed. You weakly reach up and cup his cheek to catch his attention. He meets your gaze and you give a tired smile and pull him down for a kiss. Miguel eases your legs down and kisses you back. His hands rubs comfortingly around the dip of your waist. For a moment you feel at peace, a bliss of entering a new era with him. The peace lasts for just a moment. Miguel leaves your lips and twirls your body on your stomach, lifting your bottom half up so your ass hangs in the air. In the process, his dick leaves your warmth and it leaves you feeling empty. You gasp and grip onto the sheets, head turning to try and see Miguel. “‘M not done.” He mumbles. “You wanted me to breed you so I’ll fuckin’ breed you.” His words are slurred but his mind is made up. He angles his cock to your wet cunt again, smearing the combined arousal around with his tip as if painting on a canvas. Instinctively, you moan and wiggle your hips back, pussy swelling up with desire again. Miguel smirks and pushes back inside and the stretch is familiar and comforting. Shuddering, your pussy welcomes him back by squeezing tightly, sucking him in, and he hisses. “Uyy, fuck…” He sighs. He starts off slow, bumping you forward with easy and short thrusts, feeling himself slowly grow hard again inside you. Your eyes flutter close, face smushed into the pillow and drooling on the case of it as your body lurches forward. Miguel increases his speed, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip to bring your ass back onto his cock. His balls smack your clit for added stimulation and it makes you jump from the electric pleasure zipping straight to your core. “Oh my God! Miguel!” You whine, heat flushing on your cheeks, Miguel’s dick reaching different places in a different position. The pain of sensitivity washes away, your pussy now craving the hot sticky liquid of your husband. Miguel looms over you, bending one leg to keep him steady as he keeps drilling deeper into you. His lips leave wet and sloppy kisses to your shoulder, panting and sharing warm breaths with you while your bodies buck up against one another.

“That feel good, mama? Hm?” He moans, burying himself in your neck while his hips snap up against yours, ass slapping and rippling with each thrust.

“Yes! Yes! Mhm!” Your voice turns high pitched, eyes glassy and unfocused while being bred like a bitch in heat. Still, you took pride in it to be the one to carry his child, to have him use your hole as his cumdump and take him however many times as long as you keep feeling like this. You’d gladly take him over and over again.

“You’ll give me another baby after this one, right mama?” He hums, tongue licking your neck and nipping at your skin. “Say you will, querida. Say you’ll let me put a baby in you again–we’ll have a big family.” He whines, humping your ass in quick strokes. “Say it, say it, say it, please, please.”

Miguel could feel himself getting closer. He could feel you getting close too with the familiar pulse and clench of your walls around his throbbing cock. His balls are wet with your slick, your wetness never ending.

“Yes! I will! Promise! Just–please!” Your words are barely audible with your face pushed into the pillow but Miguel is satisfied with your cockdrunk state. His cock engorges with the thought of a big family, you giving him as many kids as he wants and him watching it all happen once he spills as much as he wants in your willing cunt.

His hips go out of rhythm, he chases his high of impregnating you for a second time and his cock twitches violently before squirting ropes of cum to paint your walls white. He doesn’t stop pumping, wanting to feel you cream on his cock so badly even when the overstimulation makes him whimper.

With a cry of his name, your pussy pulses around him and you feel his previous load drip out of you to make space for his new one. The liquid trickles down your thighs and your shake as the orgasm is ripped out of you. When you stiffen, Miguel drags his cock out from you and flips you on your back again.

Barely giving you time to recover, Miguel lifts you up from the bed and your back makes contact with the cool wall. He holds you securely under your ass and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist once more. Your arms are around his neck, hands in his hair and Miguel captures your lips in a messy kiss. His hips rut into you to slide his dick back inside which resounds out in rapid smacks of skin on skin contact.

You’re bouncing on his dick, hair tangled and becoming staticy from your head rubbing on the wall. His thrusts slow to a stop as he focuses on making out with you, tongue dancing with yours and exploring your mouth with a low moan of pleasure.

Teeth clack against each other and you roll your pelvis to regain the friction. Pussy clenches around him desperately and Miguel lets out a guttural groan, separating from your lips to bite your chest. Your back lifts off the wall and you push your tits to his mouth, Miguel eagerly sucking your nipples and switching between left and right.

He angles up and up, feeling your walls slide on him like some silicon dildo. He gropes your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading them apart while your slick sounds out with a sloppy, dirty and wet mess. Miguel shoves you harder against the wall, pounding your body in rhythmic thrusts that bang loud enough for a passerby to hear. His back is covered with your nails marks.

You’re screaming, you’re so fucking sensitive but it’s just so hot how he just keeps going. There’s a fire that’s ignited in you–some sick form of pleasure that you get off on your husband pumping you full of semen. It gave you pleasure just how badly he wanted this–wanted you. You can’t help but squeeze around him, pussy unable to handle the bundle of overstimulated nerves so it spasms.

Jaw slacked and spit dribbling down your chin with your tongue lolled out your mouth–you can barely form a thought when Miguel’s fucking them out of you. You didn’t expect for Miguel to jump at the chance at having a baby but right now, it felt so worth it. His teeth bites at your nipple, tongue rolling around the bud and devouring it like you were the sweetest thing he’s tasted.

“Miguell…! I’m so–mmph!–fuck, I’m close!” You pull on his strands of hair and he lets go of your nipple. Miguel leaves his forehead on your chest, breath fanning your skin while he bucks into you. He cums first, his essence spilling out and dribbling back down on his cock and he grunts with annoyance. His annoyance doesn’t last long when you climax just a few seconds after with a squeal. You ankles lock tightly around his waist to push him to the hilt to keep the rest of his cum–old and new–plugged inside. Miguel shudders and moves you off the wall and back to the edge of the bed.

Miguel lays you down on the mattress with a huff of exhaustion, becoming sleepy after three orgasms. Still, he turns you on your side, lifting your leg up so he could slide in his cock between your twitching and sensitive folds.

You strangle out a whine, eyes blinking in a dazed haze. You reach around you to grip his hair and plead for mercy. You don’t know how you even lasted this long.

“Thought you wanted a baby. I’m making sure we’re having that baby.” He mumbles against your neck, humming when he sheathes inside you again. Your cunt spasms, fluttering and pulsating from overstimulation. However, Miguel is gentle this time.

He grinds behind you in easy thrusts. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, turning your head around with your mouth slightly parted, whining out your moans. Miguel kisses you, his hand gripping your thigh tightly to uphold it while his cock slips in and out of you. The evidence of his essence drips out of you and leaves a shiny coat and the milky white circle at the base of his shaft prominent from previous orgasms.

You weakly buck your ass back to go in time with his thrusting. You break from the kiss, string of spit connecting on your wet lips before you rest your head back on the pillow, heart thumping wildly. Miguel goes back to kissing your neck and shoulders.

“Asi es, mami,” He whispers huskily. “One more. Can you do that for me? Jus’ one more.” His hips roll in circles and his hand goes underneath you to reach around to your front, fingers finding your clit. He rolls it between his fingers and circles around it softly with just the right amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your hips stutter and feel another climax coming, but this time a little weaker than the rest.

“Mig…Miggy…” You whine and he shushes you gently. His fingers leave your clit and he rests his hand on your stomach, thumb rubbing up and down the small pudge of tummy where his baby will grow inside you.

“I know, mi reina, I know. I love you so much. I love you. I love you so damn much.” He whispers sweetly, Miguel kissing behind your ear. His words of affection make you whimper.

“I love you too.”

Miguel winds up cumming inside you for the final time, emptying out all of his energy and hugging you tight to his chest while you squeal and cum right after him. He keeps you close, putting your leg down and curling his arms around your waist to spoon you.

Your breathing slowly evens out, exhaustion catching up to you. Miguel pulls out, each drag shocking your nerves until he leaves with a wet plop, strings of cum connecting you both together until it breaks. He turns you around to face him and brings your head against his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage and you weakly hug him back. You feel full just like he told you he would do to you.

You can’t help but feel content, excitement blooming in your chest for the next chapter in your life with your husband. He's warm.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whisper softly. Miguel’s lips kiss your hair and he lifts your face up to him. He continues to pepper your cheeks and forehead with kisses.

“We’re gonna be parents.” He echos. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t ask for a better man to start a family with.

A/N: me when i enforce my breeding kink miguel agenda

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

[smutoperator]

Under Her Skirt

Choi Yewon (Arin) x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, acrobatic 69, anal, ass eating, ass-to-pussy, balcony sex, carry fucking, cheeky, choking, cute but slutty, daddy kink, dirty talk, (lots of) facefucking, face slapping, facial, miniskirt, objectification, rough sex, schoolgirl, socks, spanking, specs, spitting, squirting

Word count: 5143

For the last couple years, you and Arin seemed frozen in time. Ever since Oh My Girl renewed their contracts and moved towards sporadic activities, you have had very few chances to see Arin in person. All your opportunities would come from festivals where they would always play the same songs, and all you could do was watch Arin jiggling her cheeks on stage from afar.

After you saw Arin perform in a schoolgirl outfit, wearing specs and looking cuter than ever, but also sexier than ever, you knew this drought had to end. You had to get Arin at all costs. It had become a matter of life or death for you. As you managed to dribble their managers and snuck into backstage, you found the beautiful, cute Arin right there, her heartwarming smile in full display when she saw you.

"It's been a while since we last met," Arin said. "I still remember when you used to warm me up backstage before Music Bank," she continued. "Can we do this again, even if just for today?" you asked. "Sure, meet me at home; I'll be waiting for you," she said.

Arin sent you a few pictures of her schoolgirl outfit before she even published them on Instagram. Truth be told, she missed you too and had been craving it for a long time; that backstage smile wasn't for nothing at all.

Arin greeted you with her stage outfit still on. Her glow-up since you two last met was quite amazing. The more you looked at her, the more your lust for her grew. Flashbacks of her riding you with her cheeky butt already popped into your mind, of you carrying her and spanking her ass while going nonstop inside her holes. It was long overdue to bring it back.

It turns out Arin wanted it just as much as you did. As you sat on the chair around her house's table, she took a different route, sitting on top of the table itself with her round cheeks and advancing towards you, giving you sexy kisses where you could feel how much she missed you.

"You want this, baby?" Arin asked you. You didn't reply, but the expressions on your face already made your answer clear to her. And your next move, even more so, as you jumped from the chair and grabbed Arin by her neck, immediately answering back her torrid kisses. You took your coat off as Arin's sexy mouth quickly heated you up. "You're still the same whore from the last time we met," you told her, giving her face a little slap. "But I'm a lot more experienced now," Arin pushed back.

"Then let's cheek it; I mean, check it," you said as you reached under her skirt. God, you really missed those cheeks. The moment you grabbed them, you already wanted to explode. Memories of you clapping it and spanking it hard flashed into your eyes. You placed Arin's body on top of the table and already took her panties off. Her lifted skirt stays on, just like her socks and specs. You are very much enamored by this look on Arin, like you never were before, and ready to show it to her.

You duck your head under Arin's skirt and start eating her pretty pussy. That cute schoolgirl facade is only present in her outfit. Everywhere else, Arin is just the moaning slut you always knew her for, as she closes her wonderful thighs around your head the more you stimulate her sweaty pussy. Soon, your fingers replace your hands as you kiss Arin and let her taste her hole while your hands make her even wetter. Arin just falls back onto the table and enjoys the finger-fucking session.

"Yes, please, please," Arin begs right before you kiss her. But you've got different plans. Carrying this petite doll was always one of your favorite things, and you do it again as Arin clings to your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"Turn around," you say as you drop Arin to the floor after a little while. As you give her skirt a little lift, the thing she's most known for is already on full display. You waste no time ducking between her fat cheeks, circling your tongue around both her holes. But this time, her asshole gets the most attention, as you already tongue it deep and soon remind yourself how much better it tastes when sweaty. Arin just moans and spreads her legs.

Arin starts jiggling her ass as you eat her out and grabs your head to dunk it deeper between her cheeks. Her reaction makes you go even crazier, as you suddenly get up and give Arin an order: "Let's get this off," you tell her, as she tries to take her top and tie off while you choke her and finger her pussy at the same time.

"Ohhhh, I missed that touch so much," Arin says. "Of course you did; you're an insatiable whore, always jiggling those cheeks on stage," you punch back, yanking her top off. "It looks like you enjoyed that jiggling, didn't you?" Arin said. "Look at how hard you are; I've been noticing it the moment you entered my house," Arin replied, touching your pants right where your erection lied.

"Then get on your knees and worship it, bitch," you tell her, unbuttoning your pants. Arin quickly wraps her hands around it and licks your shaft from top to bottom multiple times before she sloppily sucks it. "Open that mouth, bitch," you tell her as you grab her hair and start fucking her beautiful face, your balls slapping nonstop against her chin. As you stop with your cock impaling her throat, Arin moves it even further, testing herself and getting ready to gag hard on that shaft.

"Spit on my mouth, please," Arin says, opening it even further as soon as she gags on your meat. You give her what she wants and kiss her once again shortly after, quickly moving to keep the facefucking going. You had forgotten how messy she gets when her pretty face gets pounded, going from a cute, classy maknae straight into a slutty cocksleeve.

"You like to fuck that cute little face, don't you, baby?" Arin asks as she goes back to blowing that pipe off. "But you like it better when I turn into this cock-sucking slut, right?" she says as she finishes her aggressive blowjob, taking all your shaft in, including giving a lot of love to your balls.

"You're going to detention today, you slutty schoolgirl," you poke at her, aggressively taking Arin's bra off and exposing her perky tits. More kissing ensues while you rub Arin's cute boobs before slapping them. "Tell me who's daddy's whore?" you ask her. "I am!" Arin laughs.

"Get in there," you say as Arin places her small head between your legs. You feel really dominant watching her face get fucked in that position, giving you the perfect view of your manhood bulging under her throat while your balls hit the glasses in her specs.

"AHHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH." Arin screams from the top of her lungs once you pull out of her mouth. "Shut up, bitch," you tell her, covering her mouth with your hands as soon as she screams. Instead, Arin licks your fingers nonstop. "My pussy tastes really good," she says once she finishes it.

You take your shoes off, making a stomping noise on the woody floor of Arin's house. Clearly, she hasn't learned the lesson. Now you fuck her face with your fingers, going deep into her pussy. "How does that taste, cunt?" Arin tries to say some words, but your cock mutes them. "Louder, I can't hear it," you tell her.

Arin coughs all over your cock, but little does she know you're about to get even spicier. You grab her by the waist and flip her upside down. "Don't let those specs fall down," you say to her. "YESSSS!" Arin gets excited and licks your cock as you grab her lower body and eat her pussy while she's upside down. Down low, she maniacally licks your shaft.

"Who told you to do this?" you ask her, spanking her ass and thrusting your prick right back into her face. Arin gets punished hard as her cheeks slowly turn into your favorite color: red. Upside down, a cock deep in her throat, a tongue deep in her cunt—it's incredible that Arin still manages to keep those specs on and still finds strength to bob her head on your dick as soon as you stop fucking her face, which leads to yet another punishment spank from you.

You flip Arin back and kiss her. "Yes, baby, it looks like you enjoyed that 69, didn't you?" you rhetorically ask. "But we are just starting," you say as you grab her neck once again. "Bend over," you order right after, placing your hands in her cheeks as you go back to rubbing her cunt.

"Time to get punished, bitch," you tell Arin, sliding your cock in her pussy. "Oh fuck," Arin gets caught by surprise with a monster suddenly inside her cunt, but instinctively bends over from long years of experience. "YES, YES, YES, FUCK IT!" Arin yells as you are already clapping her massive cheeks, giving her no room to breathe and attacking hard from the start. "Please destroy my pussy, AHHHHH," she begs as you pick up the pace.

"Fuck me just like that, hit me deeper," Arin keeps demanding as you pump her pussy nonstop, spreading her cheeks and moaning while you grab her arms behind her back. You push her body towards yours and give her a crazy pounding in standing doggy, treating her pussy like a fleshlight and making her cheeks let out loud noises each time you thrust deep inside her.

Arin has to cling back onto the table not to get obliterated, as you stop a bit to admire her meaty cheeks. "Get down," you tell her, taking advantage of a submissive Arin is bending over to eat her desirable butthole as she jiggles her ass and lets her cheeks hit your face. You put a finger up her asshole, but it's so warm you can't resist but to shove your whole cock inside it shortly after.

"Use my asshole; I know that's what you want the mo... AHHHH," Arin says. "Don't worry, bitch, I'll use it like my personal toy," you tell her, fucking her ass and spanking her cheeks nonstop. "Please, shove that cock deep in my ass," Arin continues to say. You love how her facial expressions change with each pumping and spanking you give her. "Oh my God, you fuck me so hard," Arin says. Even for a slut like her, it's hard to take such a big cock at such a fast speed in her butthole.

"USE ME. USE ME. USE ME. DESTROY MY TINY LITTLE ASSHOLE, FUCK!" Arin keeps screaming. The more she talks, the harder you fuck her ass, and the louder her cheeks clap. Not even five minutes in, but she can barely stand up, getting fucked like an animal as you go raw on her.

"I love how you fuck me," Arin says as soon as you finish ramming her. You slap her face as soon as you hear those words, which she loves. "Are you going to fuck me like your dirty little bitch?" Arin asks, clearly wanting more. You let your actions do the talking, grabbing her and leading Arin towards the balcony, pinning her against the glass door. Arin can barely hold onto the glass as you manhandle her ass, her moaning mouth, and her sliding hands, leaving an imprint on the glass on this foggy, cold day. 

"OH. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," she screams, her little tits now hitting the glass nonstop as she has no control over her body, getting plowed like a slutty fuckdoll that she is. Arin gets grabbed from behind, and your primal urge to destroy her only grows as her whole body gets suffocated between that glass and your dominating self, forcing her to cling as hard as possible to any support, holding the door with all her might just to survive your rough anal rampage.

"Lick that glass, you dirty whore," you say, spitting on it right after you stop pounding Arin, who follows. "I want you to fuck me so bad," she says once she finishes. "What did you say?" you ask her, grabbing Arin back inside the room. Arin laughs. "Then shut up and show me," you say, lifting her leg against the door. "Ready to put it back in?" she demands, giving you a lustful stare. "Give me that ass," you say; indeed, you can't say no to it.

You fuck and spank Arin's ass like crazy. "Keep going, daddy," she says, masturbating herself at each thrust and even using different languages: "Follame el culo," she demands, in Spanish, as you grab her cheeks, but a different one in this case, those in her cute slutty face. Arin gets her face slapped multiple times, but she also retaliates and spanks yours as well, showing she's truly an untamed slut. All that while getting fucked hard in the ass.

"Make me fucking take it," Arin says as your anal addiction to her only grows. "I want you to treat me like the biggest whore you've ever met," she continues. You switch to a standing doggy once again; never stop fucking her butt. "Sí papi, así, así, así," she says once again in Spanish. "Fuck me harder, fuck me harder," she then says.

You indeed fuck Arin harder, making her hold against the door not to get destroyed. Her entire body jiggles, even her little tits. "Make me fucking take it, daddy," she continues. And you make her, gabbing Arin from behind. "GOD, I'M GONNA CUM," she says right after. As you just seem to have endless energy and never stop, her butt keeps getting spanked, her body used like a fleshlight. Her neck choked in such a way that it clenched her entire throat. If Arin really wants to be treated like a sex object, you sure won't object.

Arin gets on her knees to suck your cock. Despite the rampage she just endured, she seems just fine and ready for more, savoring her asshole like a dinner meal and making loud noises with her mouth as she gets very sloppy. Soon you're treating her face just like her asshole, fucking it hard as she nods with your cock deep in her throat, ready to choke on it. You spit on her face as soon as you finish it. "Give it back," she asks for more as you fuck her face with her still jerking your cock off.

"Come in." You grab Arin's hair as she crawls inside on all fours like a dirty puppy. You slam her body into the table and start eating her pussy. "Yes, daddy, make me fucking cum, ahhh," Arin moans as she moves her hips to meet your mouth inside her cunt. Soon, your mouth is replaced by that huge cock, sensing that Arin wants it back inside, begging and moaning as you pump her pussy in a hot missionary position before shoving your whole hand inside her mouth to shut her up.

Arin bites your hand as she chokes all over it, trying to let her moan out as you put the heat in her pussy. As you free Arin's mouth, you give her no time to collect herself, switching straight back to her asshole. The spanking continued, as this time you targeted her milky thighs. "Yes, that's what I want; spank me, spank me," Arin said as you kept hitting her.

You make things even harder for Arin as you shove your hand inside her pussy to add to the pumps you were already giving her asshole. She's on the edge of the table, having to be careful not to fall down. "FUCK. MAKE. ME. CUM," she says, each word becoming more and more of a struggle to come out of her mouth. "Fuck, I'm cumming," she says right after, her nipples fully erected and her body overwhelmed by the anal and vaginal stimulation you give her simultaneously.

Hearing those words makes you increase your speed a lot more, pounding Arin's ass until she squirts and cums all over your hands. You pull out and set your sights on fingering her wet cunt as Arin slides her legs out of the table. "Slap my fucking cunt, yesss," she begs as juices come out of it, and she wants the slapping session to extend into her entire body.

Arin romantically kisses you as she finishes her orgasm. You then turn her body around and place her head, falling out of the table, to fuck her face. "Give me all that cock," she begs as you plow her throat balls deep, and she savors your shaft, letting out loud moans that you can't hear an audible word of. Arin coughs deeper on your cock once you stop your pounding motion, engulfing it with ease. You two spend a couple minutes on this routine, with Arin lasting longer each time you shove your prick deep in her throat, coating your dick full of her spit and creating strings of saliva coming out of your throbbing shaft.

"Fuck that face up," Arin demands as you treat her mouth like a human onahole, reaching under her needy pussy to finger it while your pole is buried deep in her throat. "Yes, gag on that dick, you fucking whore," you tell her. "Fuck yeah!" she answers back.

With Arin still recovering, you grab her body and carry her. She answers immediately by bouncing on your cock while up in the air, showing why it's one of her favorite positions. Her moans are music to your ears as Arin impales herself on your big dick, and you enjoy how easy it is to spank her cheeks. Soon, Arin is kissing you while getting pounded and spanked mid-air.

But you want to pump her harder, dropping to the floor and without pulling out, hammering her pussy upwards as Arin has to hold herself to the edge of the table, getting pounded nonstop down low in her cunt. Your balls slapped onto her cheeks multiple times, turning both of you on even further. "Make those fucking cheeks clap," Arin orders as the pounding continues, only stopping for a couple seconds for you to switch holes and do the same thing but to her already sore ass.

You let Arin twerk on your dick as she made it disappear under her big cheeky butt. You love how she energetically jumps on that dick like an insatiable slut, spanking her cheeks and telling her to go fast, which Arin follows to the degree that your cock slips out of her butthole. Rather than complaining, you just take advantage of it to slide it back in her cunt and be the alpha man, obliterating it once more as your balls go all the way up into hitting her anal entrance with the speed you pump Arin's pussy.

"Let me fucking ride it; I need your fucking cock right now," Arin says as you pause a bit, letting her take control of the ride and impale herself all the way into her cervix. You kiss her and give her already red cheeks a little tap to praise her before she stops, and you two have a clingy and romantic moment filled with kisses, but always with your cock deep inside her.

You push Arin to the top of the table, lying on it while doing so, letting her enjoy a ride while standing tall. "There you go," you say as Arin spreads her legs and settles them on the table, giving long bounces on your dick, going all the way up your tip and then pushing all the way down your balls. "You want to feel this warm, needy pussy?" she asks. "Yes, just like that," you reply. Arin's moans get sexier as she shows her love for riding big dicks. "All the way deep in my pussy," she says while her bounce continues, and you get a perfect view of her hole getting stretched out every time she takes your cock in and out of it.

Arin's moans get louder as she spreads her cheeks. "Look at me taking all this fucking cock all the way in," she brags. "Time for you to use that fucking pussy again," she commands, as you push up it and Arin gets her sex manhandled while mid-air, the loud noise of her clapping cheeks filling the room once more. "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," is all she can say, defenseless as your cock stabs her cunt like nothing, making her skirt wave at each thrust.

"FUCK. FUCK, I WANT ALL OF IT," Arin screams, still mid-air. "Nonstop, nonstop, nonstop, nonstop, nonstop," she starts singing one of her group's hits while giving you an order at the same time. "YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. FUCK. I'M CUMMING." Arin gets destroyed as you show no mercy for her cunt; the more her cheeks clap, the harder you pound her. As soon as you run out of stamina, Arin grinds her pussy on your cock sideways, coating it with her juices, and kisses you to show gratitude for fucking her like a whore.

Arin flips to the opposite side, diving to taste your cock full of her juices from both holes. You get up a bit to watch her marvelous mouth work all the way down your shaft as Arin deepthroats it in full force and makes even louder noises as she keeps coughing on that dick. More deepthroating ensues as you duck her head into your crotch until she gags.

"Is that what you want? To fuck me hard like a dirty little slut?" Arin asks as you choke her, and she fingers herself. "Put it back in my ass, please," she says, lying on the edge of the table as you penetrate her already gaped butthole. "Give me more; destroy my tiny little asshole," she continues as she moans, and you spank her little. "Use that fucking asshole, yeah," she keeps saying. "Choke me," Arin demands as you oblige, while placing your thumb in her mouth.

"Back and forth, switch between my holes," Arin keeps demanding as you take turns between her anus and cunt and tease her before settling for another hard ass-fucking that she loves. "Yes, please, stretch my ass like that. I love it. I love it in my fucking ass. Stuff me up, stuff me up," she tells you. The anal pounding continues, but you surprise her with another switch to her pussy, enjoying the whole back and forth hole-stretching, but truth be told, Arin has a favorite one.

"Please put it back in my fucking ass; I want you to use it," she begs. You go back into her asshole just as she wants, turning her cheeks even redder. "My ass is so fucking wet for you," she keeps talking dirty and praising the wonder of her tiny little stretched anus. 

You clap Arin's cheeks against the table as you increase the speed of your anal fucking. "KEEP FUCKING ME, PLEASE!" Arin screams as her asshole gets destroyed. "Harder, harder, yesss!" She pushes you to the edge, demanding the best effort you can bring to fuck that ass, yelling nonstop even as you choke her. Your thobbing cock tingles, and you almost cum at the spot as her clenching butthole smashes it, but you respond, fucking her even harder as she tells you she's ready to cum again.

"FUCK YEAH. USING MY FUCKING HOLE!" Arin gets even louder as she squirts after a long and rough round of anal. You aid her into releasing those juices as you massage her clit, letting a geyser come out of her cunt as Arin gets into a fetal position for you to slap her cheeks once again, her body sliding over the slippery table as you dive to eat both her holes out and then spit on her slutty face.

"Keep going down my fucking clit, daddy," Arin says as you continue to eat her pussy, her skirt fully lifted as you dive under it. More passionate kisses ensue between both of you as Arin puts her long legs over her head, letting you take her in a mating press up her asshole.

"Drop that fucking cock deep inside me; drop it in my ass," Arin tells you as you push it back in her anus. "All the way deep in my fucking asshole, please," she continues, sticking her tongue out. "Shut up, little cunt." You have enough of her slutty antics and shove your fist down her throat, fully topping Arin as she lies over the table.

You go slow and deep, taking a more passionate approach this time. "Keep going, right in my fucking ass," she says as soon as you free her mouth to speak. However, that makes you flip a switch as you start giving her a rough mating press deep in her butt, making her cheeks clap once again. Arin screams as her swollen butthole keeps taking pounding after pounding.

You move sideways, anally pounding Arin in spooning this time, your balls hitting her cunt while she fingers her clit. "Oh God, fuck," she moans as you grab her right thigh and stretch her asshole. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she repeats. "I told you to shut up," you say, placing your left hand over her mouth.

Arin is so overwhelmed she starts mixing up languages: "Me encanta the way you fuck my culo, papí," she says right after you go back to choking her. Your balls hit perfectly into her cheeks, making her moan softly. "Ram that fucking ass," she begs, but you have different plans, going back to her pussy as soon as she says those words.

Arin gets softer. "You treat me so well, Daddy," she says as you stretch her pussy out, her eyes flowing with tears of joy. "I love how you use both my fucking holes, Daddy," she continues. You two grow more passionate as you kiss Arin's mouth and neck while never stopping fucking her tight sex. "Keep going, daddy; put that cock deep in my fucking holes," Arin says.

"Slap my fucking titties," Arin demands, wanting to get used like a toy. You follow, hitting her boobs right at her throbbing nipples. Arin laughs as you duck under to suck her tits while still pounding her cunt nonstop, before surprising her and putting her back under a mating press that makes her body slide onde again.

"Fuck, it's so deep inside me," Arin moans as you keep attacking her pussy while up in the air, submitting her to a deep pounding that makes her cheeks jiggle on top of the table as your hips clash hard against them. "AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! FUCKKKKK! FUCKKKKK! FUCKKKKK!" Arin yells as her pussy clenches all over your cock. You could breed her at the spot, but you hold that urge, pulling her out so Arin can taste her wet juices.

"Fuck my little dirty mouth," Arin begs as your cock approaches her face, pounding her as if you had never left her pussy. "Ahhh, yes, use my face like that," Arin says as you finish, getting number after over 30 minutes of animalesque pounding. And you keep using her face, placing it on the edge of the table, and plowing her throat while lifting her skirt to get the perfect view of her amazing ass. 

At this point, Arin just wants to be a fleshlight. "AHHHH YESSS!" she gleefully screams once you shove your balls deep in her mouth. You push her to the other side of the table, taking a peek under her skirt to finger her pussy while fucking her face, amazed that her specs still haven't fallen off even with her head upside down. Arin bobs her head to meet your thursts as you slow down a bit to massage her cunt. "Holy fuck," you say as she shakes her head all over that meat despite facing down the floor, letting her face fuck your cock instead of fucking her face yourself.

"I want to sit on that cock, daddy," Arin demands. You pick one of the chairs around the table and sit on it, letting Arin slide your cock in her sore asshole, this time in reverse cowgirl, with one of her legs in the chair and another on the floor, giving you an amazing ride. "Daddy still likes to fuck me in the ass like that?" she asks.

Arin puts both legs on your thighs and gives you an amazing anal ride. The more you stretch her out, the more she wants. "Look at this cock so deep in my fucking asshole," Arin brags about her skills, fully impaling her sore anus into that big cock. "Do you like the way it feels in my ass, Daddy?" Arin asks as she keeps talking dirty. "Look how I sit on this cock all the way down in my ass," she continues.

Arin spreads her legs and lets her cheeks clap as she rides your cock, fingerging herself as she increases the pace of her ride. You grab her by the neck, and her butthole clenches even further. "I want to cum with your cock deep in my asshole," Arin says as she continues to bounce, reaching her orgasm shortly after. "Oh, I fucking love it," she says as she stops, giving you free reign to finger her clit and make it squirt nonstop as her legs close and she climaxes.

"Please cum on my face; drop that jizz all over my little, slutty face. I want to feel your warm and hot jizz in my face,  Daddy." Arin rests on the table, recovering from her final orgasm. You jerk your cock off on top of her, and soon she gets what she wants as you coat her specs full of sperm before filling the cheeks in her face with your white paint. Arin stays there, admiring your work of art in her now cum-filled face, sticking her tongue out in pleasure.

"You drained your fucking balls so well all over me," Arin says.

"Oh thanks. I have to go; it was nice fucking, I mean, meeting you again," you reply, as you notice it's already past midnight and you still haven't got back from the concert.

"It's fine," Arin says, with one final condition. "As long as you come back tomorrow to fuck my ass again,"

Damn, she's an insatiable anal queen, isn't she?

#arin smut #oh my girl smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

[leclercdream]

maroon

this is part 2 of maroon

✮⋆˙ when carlos breaks reader’s heart, lando is ready to mend it

✮⋆˙ ex carlos sainz x singer!reader | bestfriend lando norris x singer!reader

✮⋆˙ warnings: cheating, carlos is an asshole, slut shaming

✮⋆˙ tofi talks: thanks for the love on part 1! one last part coming soon x please ignore dates

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername: my new album GOOD RIDDANCE out march 27! presave in my bio 💜

this project means a lot to me and i hope you love it as much as i do. i can’t believe this is my first full album!!

i also wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love you are giving to MAROON 🍒 i wrote this song at 3a.m. in my best friend’s room, crying my little pisces heart out and accepting that sometimes letting go is for the better. i never expected it to get big, it was just an outlet for me, so again, thank you a million times!

this one is for you, you know who you are.

view 839 comments

landonorris: woop woop landonorris: i’m so incredibly proud of you landonorris: please let me listen to the whole album :(

yourusername: not yet 🤍 lilyzneimer: babe CAN I? i just know a few of these are love songs. oscarpiastri: me too please x yourusername: sending u the link for tmr!!! user1: WHICH ONE ARE LOVE SONGS!????yourusername: i don’t kiss and tell x user2: BITCH ALDNWNS

maxverstappen: P is so excited to hear it!

yourusername: i will send you the link to the early listening party 💜

user3: carlos liking this 😥 the audacity this mas has user4: why is no one talking about the last part guys, is it for lando? carlos???

user5: its not always about them u know?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

yourusername just posted a story

replies

landonorris: can’t wait to see you tonight landonorris: you look beautiful yourusername: lan 🥺 thank u love, got pretty for u!!! landonorris: i’m giggling and kicking my feet landonorris: think about what i told you yourusername: i already said yes lan 🤭

oscarpiastri: why is lando blushing? what did you do? yourusername: lol yourusername: he asked me out on a date and i said yes? 👉🏻👈🏻 oscarpiastri: KALSW SUAVW YN!!!! oscarpiastri: sorry lily took over oscarpiastri: that’s amazing tho, told you he likes you! yourusername: don’t you think it’s too soon? after everything that happened? :/ be honest oscarpiastri: nah, after what carlos did you are allowed to move on. plus if you listen carefully to your songs lando and you are long overdue yourusername: thank u osc 🤍 please take carlos out on the next race yourusername: kidding!!! (not) oscarpiastri: at your service (kidding) (not)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, kellypiquet and others

lando.jpg: yourusername just finished the first leg of her tour looking beautiful as ever. in honour of new year’s day being played today you can have that picure we took drunk at said party

view 920 comments

user1: i thought this was a yn post lol

user2: the second picture i’m screaming!!! the fact that she was dating carlos at the time yet she always looked at him like that 🥺

user3: slut behaviour

oscarpiastri: i’m so normal about this

yourusername: my favorite photographer ever 🤍

yourusername: glad you could make it tonight!! let’s get a podium tomorrow so we can go home and rest

lando.jpg: yes ma’am

maxverstappen1: Did you do it?

landonorris: yes maxverstappen1: What did she say? landonorris: yes maxverstappen1: 🤝🏻👍🏻 user3: what is this user4: they have such a weird relationship i swear

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe and ohters

yourusername: highnobiety thank you so much for having me! martietomanova shooting with you is a real rare joy. link in bio if you wanna read my interview taking about silly things and my new album! view 923 comments

user1: my jaw is on the floor

user2: lando must be loosing it rn lol about to risk it all

oscarpiastri: you are correct user2: nooo dont expose him lol

landonorris: asdjqenxf

landonorris: WHAT IS THIS

landonorris: YN???????

landonorris: please pick up the phone im so in love with you *deleted*

landonorris: GORGEOUS GORGEOUS WOMAN

landonorris: stop looking at her PLEASE im going insane

landonorris: you are the most beautiful human being on this whole world

yourusername: 🤭🤭 im blushing yourusername: see u soon? landonorris: YES landonorris: im picking u up RIGHT NOW landonorris: i would risk everything for you *deleted*

user3: anyone else saw lando’s deleted comments? boys down bad haha

user4: i love how as soon as she broke up with him he started showing he likes her lol long overdue

last part coming soon

taglist: @evie-119 @landossainz @noneofyallsbusiness @ladyblablabla @likedbygaslyy @softiecaro @1655clean @willowpains @lightdragonrayne if your name is crossed out i couldnt tag you

#carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #lando norris imagine #lando norris #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz #f1 smau #f1 x you #f1 x reader #smau #carlando

[konigbabe]

frosting of my cake

DAY 5 ⇢ Breeding Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader Word count: 1.2k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; breeding kink; manhandling; mating press Summary: You want a baby. Satoru is determined to give it to you. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023]. Divider by @benkeibear [source].

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

"My last, third wish," you put up three fingers, "want a baby."

He looks at you in silence, not quite comprehending the request you've just made. Casual over the breakfast bowl in your hands, hair still all messy and tangled from sleep.

"I was thinking you'd say more of a food play when you said you got the idea when grabbing lunch with Shoko…or another threesome. Both would be acceptable."

But this...this was unexpected. You've surprised him for once, made him speechless.

"Is baby not acceptable," you query, setting your breakfast bowl on the kitchen island.

Satoru shakes his head quickly and puts his breakfast on the table. "No–god no," he moves to stand beside you, one of your hands in both of his. Yes, it might've been sudden, but Satoru can't deny his heart skipped a beat when your words reached his ears – body shaking with anticipation and excitement, mind already running ideas of how you could make a baby.

"It's acceptable. Of course–completely acceptable. Very sudden but that's it."

"So…do you want a baby with me?" you suddenly feel timid. Even though this conversation has been long overdue.

The question seems to linger in the air. You remain still, staring into his face. Waiting.

"I do–yeah," he exhales oppressively, squeezing your hands between his own in a reassuring manner as if he knows exactly what you're thinking without ever having to say a word.

And so you get to work.

You should've seen it in highsight–

Satoru's determination – no matter the cause – has always been unwavering. Perpetual and steadfast, he's committed to his goals regardless of the situation or objective, whether in the jujutsu world or your love life. And if it involved you, Satoru Gojo has become anthropocentric.

–so when those words left your mouth a few days ago, you should've been more aware of the consequences.

It's also the reason there's a calendar on his nightstand, today's date circled in red – ovulation.

And why your cries resonate through the dimly lit bedroom. Sheets sticking to your back, slick with your sweat as Satoru pivots his hips into your quelching cunt. Puffy and swollen; already leaking his release, creating sounds that would make your face burn with shame if it weren't for the pure greed in his hungry eyes..

"Satoru–," his name flows out of your mouth, head fuzzy and unable to comprehend no more, "agh–feels so good."

Satoru's hand settles on the dip of your knee, pushing the leg into your chest more as his chest presses against your legs.

"Fuck," his hips roll into you with fervor devotion, "squeezing me so tight."

Once more you utter his name in a shattered tone. Satoru's response an unsteady thrust of his hips. It makes your back to arch in his grasp, toes curling as he relentlessly batters that sweet spot that sends waves of ecstasy crashing over your senses.

His thumb brushes against your slick, swollen lips, and his kiss is a wild, intoxicating mess. Sloppy. Messy. Unhurried with languid strokes of his tongue against yours. An oasis in the storm; a brief reprieve from the intensity that throbs between your legs. Satoru's hand drifts to your breast, cupping it like a precious gem, as he slows down.

The pressure moves from your breast, trailing along the curve of your waist until it presses against your throbbing clit. Small, filthy noises escape from the back of his throat as his lips meld with yours; a satisfied hum that spreads through your body with each thrust he gives you.

"Ahg–I'm gonna cum, Satoru–"

A guttural moan rolls over his tongue, past your lips. A rumble of approval that makes your stomach flutter with glee.

Your limbs pinned, unable to do anything against the relaxation that overcomes your body. And in this position, even if you could move, you wouldn't. You savor the leisurely gliding thrusts, the euphoria and warmth flooding your veins, the sensation of his body covering yours and the breathless sound of his moans against your lips.

"I love you so much," it's barely above a whisper, lips brushing against your skin as you feel his mouth curve into a smile against your neck. Satoru's name tears from your lips, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder blades, legs straining painfully as he folds you in half.

It's your third time today and your second time in a row. A record for you. The sheer amount of energy you've expended almost unfathomable. A few minutes of rest to catch your breath is all it takes to has Satoru all hot and bothered again.

His name a constant thread beneath your breathless lips, heart racing so fervently that it threatens to burst from your chest before it's pulled back into your throat.

"Fuck–fuck–love you s'much," he babbles, feeling your pussy flutter around him. helpless to resist the temptation as your slick warmth pulls him in again and again–

The white stars in his eyes have always been mesmerizing but when he's close – about to blow – you've never seen anything more stunning.

–milking him dry when he reaches yet another climax.

(Fourth, you think. But given the passage of time, you wouldn't be surprised if it was even more.)

Satoru waits until you calm down, limp and pliant in his arms, before he lays a palm over your abdomen.

"I think we need more."

Satoru stretches his muscles as he rolls onto his back, his arm extending beneath the bed. Fumbling around in the dim light, searching until his fingers close around a thin, lightweight book. The image of a newborn on the cover already gives away the content, so it comes as no surprise when you read the title: BABY MAKING 101.

With an almost magical swiftness, Satoru produces a pen from somewhere and flips the publication open to its last page. You watch as he scribbles inside for a moment, his actions causing a curious intrigue to build within you until you can't help but ask, "What is that?"

He glances at you, his cheeks still sporting a faint pinkish hue. "A book. It has a list of all the best positions for breeding. Look, "and he turns the open page toward you, revealing a bulleted list of various positions—missionary, reverse cowgirl, wheelbarrow, waterfall, mating press—some of which you've never heard of before.

You raise an eyebrow and notice that some of the positions have a star drawn next to them. "Should I be asking why some of them have a star next to them?"

Satoru grins mischievously, and the tip of his pen clicks against the word "lotus" on the page. "For future reference," he says playfully. "My personal favorites."

You can't help but chuckle before he continues, "It even has tips and research on how to make babies."

"I'm pretty sure I know how babies are made."

#GojoNSFWweek2023 #i realised halfway through that im not a breeding fan #thats why its so short #and also because i forgot half of what i wanted to write #i might try an extended version later if anyone wants #moni writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk smut #satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk fic #anime x reader #anime smut #gojo satoru

[https-yeonjun]

oh, baby (c.bg)

wc. 1149

genre. smut

request. trying to get pregnant w beomgyu so y'all have been having sex nonstop everytime you're ovulating

tags. husband!beomgyu x fem!reader, breeding kink, pet names (baby), implied kitchen sex, implied shower sex, unprotected sex (lol duh), impreg kink, pussy drunk beomgyu, (slight) marking, manhandling (if you turn your head to the side and squint), mommy used twice non-sexually

a/n. repost; i was thinking about this nonstop since i saw the request anon i need to kiss your brain. you sent this over almost two month ago i'm sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy <;333 thank you to @sunnylovespickles and @huenation for helping me read this and organize my thoughts

more of my work

you and beomgyu had been married for a year and a half when he finally brought up the idea of having kids with you. you were scrolling through your feed in bed one night when you stumbled upon a post from an old classmate at her baby shower. beomgyu absentmindedly responded, i bet our kids would look cuter, prompting the very serious and incredibly long overdue conversation about one day growing your little family. and after that night and some doctor’s appointments, he was determined to get you all pretty and round before the end of the year.

one thing about beomgyu is that he genuinely cannot keep his hands off of you. so on a sunday morning, when he wakes up to an empty space in the bed beside him, he searches for you all over the house before stumbling into you in the kitchen. he sees you making pancakes and can’t help but think about your kids one day running around, helping you cook, and setting the table. he wraps his hands around your waist from behind, his hard cock prodding your ass. nuzzling his head into your neck, he mumbles, good morning, baby. you hum in response, melting into his touch. he takes this as an opportunity to slyly turn off the stove. you whine his name, protesting for him to let you finish cooking. but that doesn’t stop him from pulling you towards the island and hoisting you up on the counter. he looks up at you with a smirk. you’re the only thing i wanna eat this morning, baby.

a few days later you find beomgyu sitting at his desk when you come home from the gym, he glances up at you but his eyes can’t help but stop at your chest glistening with sweat, your boobs spilling out of your tight sports bra. and of course that naturally leads him to fantasize about what your boobs would look like when you’re pregnant, so swollen and so so beautiful. going to take a shower, then we can figure dinner out. you tell him as you retreat to the bathroom. it’s not up to five minutes later when you hear the shower curtain open, your husband slides in behind you. if we’re gonna have a baby, we should start saving on our water bill, don’t you think?

but beomgyu wasn’t the only one who was entirely insatiable. some days, like today for instance, when you spend the entire work day thinking about your husband and how much you need him to fuck you, the last thing you want to see when you come home are his friends sitting around your living room. internally groaning, you wave to them while signaling to beomgyu to follow you into the bedroom.

“your friends.” you state one the two of you are in the privacy of your room.

“what about them?” he asks, his face marked with confusion. you give him a look that conveyed frustration and yearning and the realization dawns on him.

“aww,” he coos. “does someone need me?”

“please can you just tell them to go home?” you whine and without hesitation he leaves the room. you sink into the bed for what feels like an eternity until beomgyu saunters back into the room towards you.

“took you long enough.” you mumble as you pull him closer to you.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he chuckles in response.

“felt like twenty.” you reach up to kiss him passionately, your hands trailing up his torso, taking his t-shirt up with it.

“can we–” he tries to break away from this kiss. “can we slow down?”

“need you so bad.” you mumble against his lips.

“yeah?” he asks coyly.

“yeah,” your hands race to unbutton your work pants. “need you to fuck a baby in me.” beomgyu’s eyes widened. sure, you had both agreed to try for a baby but to hear you say this so explicitly just confirmed for him that his desires to start a family with you weren’t one sided. beomgyu joins you in taking off your clothes, his hands swiftly unbuttoning your shirt, nearly ripping the buttons off.

you’re laying in bed clad in nothing, with beomgyu hovering above you. his gaze falls upon you, tracing your form, as if you were the most alluring thing he’d ever seen.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathes out before leaning down to kiss you. “i know i joke a lot,” he confesses between kisses. “but i want this so bad. you, us, our family. everything.”

he slips his throbbing cock between your warm folds causing you to let out a soft gasp. “me too. i want you. everything.” you parrot his words. he steadily grinds his hip against yours as he stares into your eyes and for a moment it seems like it’s only the two of you in the world.

loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down into a kiss. your hands explore the contours of his body trying to find the best way to keep him in your grasp, to make sure that this was not an eerily realistic dream and he was actually here with you, in you. “i love you.” you moan out clenching around him.

his eyes close shut and a groan erupts from his throat when he feels your walls tighten around him. “fuck, your so… so tight baby.”

beomgyu accelerates his thrusts, his movements becoming sloppier and messier by the second. your hands find themselves resting on the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking this as an opportunity to paint your skin with marks in between the sloppy kisses he was leaving.

as he inches closer to his climax, you feel his movements slow down as he fucks deeper into you. he’s trying to prolong his orgasm, trying to feel you around him for longer. “m’gonna cum, baby. gonna get you all pretty and pregnant for me. gonna make you a mommy tonight.”

his eyes clouded over as his movements became weaker and hips began to stutter. you let out a loud moan, your eyes fluttering closed when you felt him pumping his load deep inside you, filling you up with his seed.

still inside of you, beomgyu rolls over so you are laying on top of him. he caresses your hair, whispering i love yous between kisses on your forehead. you rest like that, tangled in each others’ arms, for a moment before you convince him to take a shower with you. when you actually get pregnant, you make it a routine to look at your baby bump in the mirror every morning. beomgyu sitting in front of you, tenderly caressing your round belly before pressing a loving kiss and murmuring something about you being the prettiest mommy in the world.

taglist: @atinyniki @boba-beom @dearlyjun @wiisoob @isabellah29

fill out this form to join my taglist!

#fay's works #txt smut #tomorrow x together #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

[moremaybank]

GREEDY — j.m

pairing jj maybank x wife!reader

summary an ode to breeding kink!jj

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, dad!jj dirty-talking reader's ear off, language

author’s note this is supposed to be a blurb, so let's see if i get carried away (basically 1.4k words, definitely not a blurb but i'm not surprised). side note — i'm going back to capitalizing.

jj masterlist

One weekend.

One whole weekend away from your happy and healthy son.

Your parents had volunteered to babysit their grandson, allowing you and JJ to abandon ship and spend some much-needed time together. As first-time parents, the two of you had been running yourselves ragged. Every day seemed longer than the last as you navigated through the ups and downs of parenting. It was a challenge, but it was one that the two of you were grateful for. You both adored your son more than either of you could ever fathom, and you were overjoyed that your family of two had expanded into a family of three.

Still, you and JJ needed time to reconnect. Not as mother and father, but instead as husband and wife. Your romantic getaway was long overdue, and you'd be damned if you two were going to let those precious seventy-two hours go to waste.

In typical Y/N and JJ fashion, the two of you hadn't left the bed since you'd arrived at your family's lake house. It took JJ exactly ten seconds to shut the door, rip your clothes off and throw your body on the mattress before he went to town.

You'd always been insatiable, both refusing to keep your hands off each other. This time, though, it was different. The sneaky quickies you two partook in while your son was sleeping weren't cutting it anymore. Not that you'd ever get enough of each other, but not having the opportunity to go at it for hours like you used to was quickly beginning to frustrate you both — in every sense of the term.

"Shit, J. You're so deep," you cried out, your nails clawing jagged cuts into the skin of JJ's back. He thrusted into you hard and deep, and each stuffing of his thick cock made your toes curl and your head spin. "Hurts so fucking good."

"Christ, this pretty pussy's all stretched out around my cock. You feel how tight you're squeezing me, baby?" He gritted, pushing down on the backs of your thighs and bending you in half. He fucked you harder, each thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs as your body shook from the force. "You're taking this cock so fucking well. Love you so much, babygirl."

Curling your legs around his upper back and helping him keep your legs out of the way, you mewled loudly. Your arms slid around JJ's neck as you held him close. "Love you, J," you whined, your tongue tangling with his when your lips met in a searing kiss.

"Your pussy's so good for me, holding so much of my cum. There's no goddamn way you aren't pregnant again by the time we leave here."

"Was that your plan, Maybank?" You questioned through your panting.

"Can you blame me? I fucking loved when you were pregnant. You were taking this cock all the time, weren't you?" JJ taunted. He slowed the pace of his hips, slamming his cock into you with focus and precision. His head dropped to the crook of your neck, pressing kisses on your tingling skin before his lips found your ear. "Remember our anniversary?"

"God, yes," you called, both in response to his question and how his cock massaged every aching inch of your walls.

"Yeah? How many times did you take my cum, pretty girl?"

"Nine times, J."

"That's right," JJ cooed, his pace picking up as the memories flashed through his mind, "Nine times. You made me so fucking proud, baby."

You gasped when JJ's hips began to snap into you quicker, and your head sank further into the pillow as JJ worked his magic on you. You were getting close, and your cunt starved for another orgasm. "Want your cum, J. Give me another baby."

Your pleading tone and doe eyes sent a thrill up JJ's spine. He loved hearing you beg for him to fill you up almost as much as he loved actually doing it. "Shit," he rasped, slamming into you faster. His fingers found your clit, and he rubbed it vigorously, trying to push you over the edge. "'M gonna knock you up again so I can stuff you full of my cum as many times as I want. I think we could break our record."

"Yes, right there! Don't stop, J!" You cried. Your legs began to shake as your high raked through you, and you held onto JJ tightly.

"Go ahead, baby. Cream on my cock. I want you all over me." JJ kept his pace up until you came down. He gave you a few shallow thrusts, keeping your releases inside you as best as he could, but his circles on your clit didn't halt. They slowed, but he kept his pressure there.

Your walls continued to flutter around him, and he knew your body yearned for more. His hips snapped into you with more force, with JJ returning to burying his cock inside you as he strived to fill you up again.

"It's too much, baby. I don't think I can do it," you whimpered.

"That's okay," JJ assured you, "You can take it, pretty girl."

JJ's pace picked up, and your eyes sprang with tears in response to the paralyzing pleasure building in your core. His cock was unforgiving, ramming into your entrance with brutal force.

"I don't deserve your cock, J. It's— it's too perfect," you hiccupped.

JJ brought his face closer to yours, the thumb of his free hand stroking your cheek as his eyes locked on yours. He pressed a kiss against your lips, barely pulling away as he spoke, "Yes, you do, baby. You deserve all this fucking cock every day."

You chased his lips hazily as they murmured sweet nothings. Your lips finally connected, and JJ pushed his cock all the way inside you, completely stuffing you full. He stilled, and he felt your walls clamp down on him. You whimpered into his mouth, your hips gyrating as you fucked yourself with his cock.

JJ broke the kiss, wanting to watch the look on your face as you fought for another orgasm. "Take my cum," he spoke, "Good girl. Take my fucking cum."

Your eyes remained shut tightly, and your fingers threaded through his long locks as your high approached you. Your feet planted on his hips, giving you leverage as you fucked him.

"Open your eyes. Look at me while you fuck me, baby," JJ ordered. You opened your eyes, obeying him as you got lost in his blue orbs. The intimacy from this small act still gave you butterflies, no matter how often you and JJ found yourselves in this position (no pun intended). You moved your hips with urgency, feeling yourself on the brink. Knowing your body so well, JJ felt it too. "That's it, princess. Look into my eyes and take my cum from me. Fucking take it. Be as greedy as you want."

"J, I—"

"I know, baby. I'm right there," he said. "Cum with me."

Your moans filled the room, along with JJ's loud grunts when the two of you came. You felt JJ's cock twitch inside you as he unloaded his cum into your pussy yet again. The warmth surged through you, reaching the core of your bones and filling you with immense pride.

"Shit," JJ breathed, pulling out slowly. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, running down your skin. It threatened to soak the sheets, but JJ quickly caught it with his fingers. He pushed his seed back inside, stuffing you full of him again. You inhaled sharply at the sudden intrusion, your hips stuttering. "Can't have you wasting a single drop, baby. Need to see exactly how much of me can fit in there."

Your eyes searched his and found the flashes of lust hiding behind them. "JJ, no. Let me catch my breath," you told him.

JJ smirked, gripping the base of his cock and tapping the head against your swollen clit. Your hips jerked in response, and you could barely register what was happening before you felt JJ's cock inside you.

"J!" You gasped.

"Don't try to act all coy as if you weren't begging for all my cum five minutes ago, babygirl. We both know you'll take this cock as many times as I want."

And you did, without a fuss.

jj tag list (join here!): @lov3r0fr0ck @adr1an4 @demiioxox @pankowperfection @spideybrina @p4nkowrld @maybank-archives @xngelsau @nerd505 @penny4yourthoughts @rafelover @wotfasked @angel037 @baby-maybank @conniesanchor @obxjjpouge @adoreyouusugar @skydisneylover @elijahssuit @kenzi-woycehoski @alexxavicry @tori-loves1 @princessbetsy123-blog @dudenhaaa27 @qualitybelieverflower @houseofperfecttaste @lyn07 @rafesmuse @pankhoeforlife @hemogloban @fool4him @rafesdior @hobiibobii @v-velvetykisscs @kittyqrt @maybankslover @laineywilsons

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank one shot #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx smut #obx imagine #obx blurb #obx one shot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks one shot #rudy pankow

[radiance1]

The League tried to interrupt a summoning of a powerful being from the Infinite Realms. From the information they collected, the being isn't of the status of a royalty, but they still had to be careful as the being the summoners tried to call forth was still of noble status.

They failed.

The head cultist finished the ritual, the last words to finish the summoning left their tongue and the room was suddenly doused in heat, as black flame came to life from within the circle, twisting and turning, back and forth until a pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from inside the twisting pillar of flame and just as suddenly as the eyes appeared, was the pillar broken apart.

What was left behind was the figure of a giant phoenix, wings spread as embers black as night gently fell down to the floor below and suddenly disappearing, as if they were never there in the first place.

"Who dares to disturb-" The being started, eyes scanning the crowd below before stilling, extremely and worryingly quiet. One of them quietly cursed. "Constantine..." The creature's voice was low, dangerously low, no doubt anger in its voice as it called out the Warlock's name.

Everyone tensed, expecting something dangerous, except for the cultists, and the Head, who turned his head towards them and smiled, obviously expecting them to be reduced to not even ash.

"100 years. One. Hundred. Years." The being spoke, and confusion wormed its way into the hearts of all those present. "100 years I have waited for you, and when we finally meet once again it's not even you summoned me but these-" The creature waved a wing at the cultist below. "-These fatuous and vacuous little things."

"And what is this? You surrounded yourself with those not even of human birth before you have even thought about me?" The noble's eyes narrowed. "Did our relationship mean nothing to you?

Someone, probably not Constantine, choked.

"Well then, after all of this time you can at least make yourself useful." In a flash of black fire, Constantine was brought from within the ranks of heroes and in front of the beast, a man who seemed to be trying to-and unsuccessfully- lighting a smoke. "Ah, why do that when you have me?" The being purred, bending down to apparently light a smoke before freezing, as if remembering what exactly it was doing, but the action was already done, and Constantine was killing his lungs away.

The phoenix snapped back up to standing above everyone else, clearing its throat as if what happened decidedly didn't happen.

"What exactly did you want me to be useful for, love?" Constantine asked, expelling the smoke from his lungs and deciding that this might as well be happening. The noble huffed, folding its wings at its sides as it stared down at its apparent lover. "Take care of our son for once in your sad, pathetic life."

This time, not only did Constantine choke, but a good chunk of people there did as well. Constantine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the phoenix incredulously. "Aren't we both men?"

The phoenix looked at his lover as if he were stupid. "Your point?"

"I-" Constantine sighed, took a breath, held, then expelled more smoke from his lungs. Apparently, he decided not to question anything anymore. "You know what? Sure, where is the little bugger?"

Over the next few moments, both the Justice League and Cultists were treated to the noble transforming into a human (still having wings) and handing over their apparent child-who looked nothing like them by being a dragon, but who were they to question the apparent reproduction of a being from the Infinite Realms- and being lectured about what not to do and what to do and how he should be cared for.

Also, a warning for his many powers.

Then the Duke stole a kiss (One that he claimed was long overdue) and left.

The room was silent, only the sounds of breathing occupying the room as the temperature was brought back down to normal levels.

A moment later, Batman walked up to the nearby cultist and punched him across the face and knocking him out cold, suddenly reminding everyone what exactly they were here for.

A while later, in the meeting room, everyone looked at Constantine. Who had a baby eastern dragon wrapped around one arm (who was apparently his child) and rubbing his temple with the other.

"I can't explain this."

===

Danny was actually not Constantine kid, neither was he Vlad's. Biologically, at the very least, however. Vlad did adopt both him and Jasmine a while back after their whole parent fiasco.

They're dead, sadly unable to become ghosts, or perhaps not so sadly.

Of course, they unfortunately outlived Jasmine, which was to be expected, but Vlad and Danny did grow close enough that they no longer viewed each other as enemies.

However, who could have expected that Danny, finally ascending to his princely status, would turn him back into a literal child because he was, for all intents and purposes, one by Dragon standards.

Utter malarkey, he would say.

Taking care of that boy was the worst few memories he has ever had. He was constantly being kept from his sleep, his work being interrupted constantly, and the child managed to find a way to leave his sight at each and every turn.

But there were some sweet moments, he would say.

It's only reasonable, however, that his lover (who he hasn't seen for an entire century might he add) share the workload.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I don't know how to write John Constantine #But I probably can't do worse then the current writers of DC or Marvel. #Probably. #Anyways. #shitpost #At least I think this is a shitpost #Idk #Or maybe its a #crack fic #crackship #But I thought of this and I find it funny so you all shall be cursed with this

[kingdaddydaichi]

₊✧⋆⭒ nsfw. MDNI. x f!reader. 600+ wc.

daichi is by no means pushy, especially when it comes to you.

but after several weeks of dating and the most you’ve done with him is kissing and grinding each other through your clothes, he realizes that he’s going to have to take the lead if things are going to go any further.

so near the end of your next date, once again he finds himself making out with you as you straddle his thighs. 

you’ve been too shy to tell him or make a move, but you desperately want to feel more of him. which is why you moan in his mouth when his hand slips under your shirt and squeezes your tit, your nipple slotting between his thick fingers. it feels so good, so long overdue that you can’t stop yourself from keening his name.

“daichi…hnn~don’t stop,” you gasp in his mouth, making his hard cock jump inside his pants. you feel it pulse against the back of your thigh and grind back against him, needing to feel more of him but too shy to say or do anything more about it.

but daichi reads your body. he’s had enough time by now to pick up on the little messages you send to him without saying a word. even through your pants, he can feel the moist heat between your legs.

he lays you back, his hard cock pressing against your center when he slots himself between your thighs. what shred of shyness remained crumbles away when you feel the full roll of his hips against you.

“daichi…please,” you whine, driving him even deeper into a feral state.

he raises up to his knees and peels your pants off your legs, keeping his big brown eyes on you as he lowers his mouth to your core. he has smelled your scent on his pants before and has been dying to taste you. he tongues your slit through your damp panties before closing his lips around your clit and sucking you into his mouth.

“mm~fuck…you taste so good,” he moans, his deep voice reverberating against you, making your legs shake against his shoulders.

he sticks his middle finger in his mouth, slicking it up before slipping it inside your panties and pushing inside your tight, needy hole. you whine and keen, shivering at the feeling of daichi's finger - daichi's anything - inside you. his tongue plays at your clit some more before he moves your panties to one side to expose you.

“so pretty,” he breathes before dragging his warm tongue along your bare cunt for the first time. 

you push your fingers into his brown hair, whining his name as he works a second finger inside you, spreading you open a little more but still not nearly as much as his cock will. he’s grinding his hips against the couch cushion below, eager -desperate, even- for some friction against his aching erection.

“fuck…daichi, yes,” you say without thinking, head rolling back against the couch. “eat my pussy so good~”

he latches on for real now, his lips forming an air-tight bond with your clit. he’s sucking you in so hard, his tongue pushing over your clit inside his mouth as his thick fingers curl inside you, wishing it was his fat cock instead. 

you’re oblivious to the fact that he’s so close to cumming, his almost-purple cockhead pinned against his own navel and dragging against the rough material of his pants. you arch your back, pulling your legs further open and back for him as he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers.

“ohh…dai~” you whimper. “i- think i’m gonna…ohfuckyes~”

your cunt aches and flexes around his fingers as he drinks you down, moaning and savoring every last drop of your orgasm as his cock soils his pants with his own cum. next time, he thinks, it'll be inside you.

₊✧⋆⭒ daichi m.list || 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows are very much appreciated ty babies !!

#daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi x f!reader #daichi sawamura x f!reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi x you #daichi sawamura x you #daichi x y/n #daichi sawamura x y/n #daichi smut #daichi sawamura smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #daichi drabble #daichi imagine #daichi thirst

[toji-girl]

Could you do a Toji x overdue pregnant reader who is SUPER grumpy and hormonal! I would like if you put the twins in! If not, I understand <3

as someone who went a week overdue I can say the rage felt is very real lmaooo

tags: pregnant! fem reader + mentions of past sex + giving birth

You came home a few weeks ago from the doctor with Toji with the news that your doctor was going to let you go until you were forty-one weeks if the twins didn't make their debut sooner than that.

And it seemed that they didn't want to come out no matter what you did.

The internet said to eat spicy things so you had your husband who just nodded not wanting to get his ass chewed, and he didn't hold it against you, being a little over forty weeks pregnant with twins who love to take turns using your bladder as a trampoline made you a bit grumpier than usual and then having to go overdue didn't help.

Sex was supposed to help and when you could handle it you'd let Toji make love to you slowly as you lay on your side, then you'd go bounce on the ball while eating the spiciest things Toji could find for you.

"I am never letting you give me a birthday gift that deals with oils and being naked again, being pregnant is supposed to make me glow!" You grunted when you stood in the kitchen with Toji as he watched you eat one of your cravings while glaring at him.

He cocked his head to the side and reached out to rub at your very swollen belly causing both babies to start kicking wildly. "You are glowing, it's just with anger, and if I recall you really enjoyed that gift."

His tease was supposed to make you smile but instead, you broke out into a fit of tears as you pressed your palms to your eyes knowing you've been super snappy to him when he's been nothing but helpful.

Toji didn't even need to say anything but open his arms letting you fall into him with more sobs that racked your body. "I've been super mean to you lately, haven't I? I'm sorry baby." You muttered in his shirt, your voice muffled as you looked up at him with teary eyes.

One hand settled on the small of your back as your protruding stomach kept you from being snug against your husband. "Don't apologize, you're heavily pregnant and close to being a week overdue." Toji soothed all your worries away in a gentle tone.

He wiped away your tears and let you pull away to begin eating again.

The next evening you stomped up the stairs with Toji's clothes balled up in your hands. "How many times do I need to tell you to pick them up!? It's not that hard!" You told him clearly irritated and upset.

He looked at you from his spot on the bed, one leg pulled free from his slacks as he sighed. "Sorry doll, today was shit at work." He murmured ready to lay down and snuggle with you before the baby's arrival turning the two of you into a family of four.

"I am almost ten months pregnant and yet I still clean and do things when I'm exhausted! Unless you're growing and making someone's lung you don't get to use that excuse." You hissed at him.

With the clothes dropped to the floor you turned around letting your out-of-whack hormones take hold of you and turn you into someone else completely different, and you knew the way you spoke to Toji wasn't nice nor was it necessary especially after he's had a long day.

Once you were settled on the couch you couldn't move, not without help anyway. "Toji!" You called out on the verge of tears again.

A few seconds later he emerged from the hallway and was at your side looking beat down and tired. "I know I keep saying sorry only to end up being mean again." You whispered looking at him.

He cupped your cheeks and leaned in to kiss you gently. "Don't let it happen again, ya hear me?" He teased making you giggle with tears streaming down your face until you felt something wet and warm spread from between your legs all the way down your legs.

"I think my water just broke." You told him with wide eyes as he stared back at you frozen in place knowing that your life was going to change forever.

#💌incoming #tw: pregnancy #toji x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #toji x yn #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Mistakes

Summary: You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader (former Tommy Miller x fem. reader)

Wordcount: 6.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, pining, feelings, Joel Miller not being good at those feelings, past heartbreak, current heartbreak, mentioned of miscarriage, more angst, also some smut (unprotected sex), kissing, mentions of violence, stitches, blood

A/N: this summary sucks but I have no idea how to make it better. Let’s hope the fics doesn’t suck like it lmao

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

It was like entering the twilight zone when the gates opened.

People were wandering the streets with smiles on their faces. You could hear children's laughter. Some people stopped and nodded towards you as you passed by them on the horse the people who had found you had put you on. 

Your gaze always slipped back to Ellie and Joel in front of you. Watching them closely. 

The woman who had talked to Joel, Maria, had not given you much more information other than to follow them after she learned Joel’s name and that he was looking for his brother Tommy. 

But you had seen in her face that she recognised the name. 

If you were honest with yourself you never believed you would really find him. Tommy. 

It had been such a long time since Joel had heard from him last and the only reason you agreed to join him in his search for Tommy was because you were scared of losing the last connection you had to your previous life. 

Tommy, Joel and you grew up together. 

When you thought of them you thought of summers at the Miller’s pool. Of thirteen year old Joel trying to teach five year old you how to swim while six year old Tommy kept trying to pull you under the water. 

The little shit. 

Of course as you turned older your interests changed, yet you all still managed to spend at least a week of the summer break together out for mischief. 

And then it all changed when Tommy Miller kissed you. 

It was after Joel left for College and if you were honest with yourself you had been crushing on him for a while at that point. 

You and Tommy had been together for two years before you found him kissing another girl. 

God, you had been so heartbroken back then. 

He had been your first real boyfriend and a tiny part of you thought he'd be the man you would marry and have kids with. Sixteen year old you had her life planned out to the dot. 

It had taken years for you to accept him as a friend again. 

Joel and you had become closer in the meantime. He’d told you all about his plans to open his own business and that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend. 

You were also the first person he told when he learned that he’d become a father. 

He had been scared but so happy. 

And you knew from the moment you saw him hold Sarah for the first time, that he would move heaven and earth for his little girl. Nothing would stay in his way. Not when his girlfriend left him with a toddler, not when both of his parents died, leaving him to deal with everything on his own. 

Sarah was his whole world. 

Until the world ended. 

The years after that were dark and painful. That was the excuse you used, that you needed to feel something different for at least a little moment, when you started to sleep with Tommy again. 

Which went on for years even after you made it to the QZ.

Until he left without a word. 

Leaving you and his brother again to pick up the pieces. 

“Tommy!” you heard Joel shout and your eyes followed his gaze, his horse stopping as he jumped off. 

He looked different. Older than you remembered him. But there walking down the steps was indeed Tommy Miller. 

Joel had found him. 

His eyes found yours as he hugged his brother, whispering your name in disbelief. 

For a moment, a small moment you were beyond relieved to find him alive and well. Anger replaced that feeling pretty quickly. He was alive and well and in a fucking functioning town without ever sending a fucking message?

You had stopped counting how often you had been almost killed on this mission to find him because Joel and you thought something had happened to him and he needed saving. 

You closed your eyes, swallowing your anger, finding Ellie watching you when your eyes opened again. 

“Let’s have something to eat,” Maria said next to you and you gave her a sharp nod, leaving the Miller brothers behind. 

You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry. 

Tears were streaming down your face as you showered under the warmest fucking water you had felt in years, scrubbing your body furiously. 

The nerve he had. 

Not only was he perfectly fine, no he was married and about to be a father. 

You didn’t like the way his wife Maria kept glaring at Joel not trying to be sneaky about it. 

You could only imagine what he had told her.

He used to blame Joel for what you all had done after the outbreak on your way to the Boston QZ. You had always argued about it in the privacy of the shitty apartment you shared back in the QZ. Because Tommy was a fully grown man when he killed those people. He could have stopped and left. But it was easier to blame someone else for the decisions he was too scared or cowardly to make. 

You could only hope that you’d be out of here first thing in the morning before you’d explode. 

Of course life had other plans. 

You walked into the house across the street just as Maria tried to warn Ellie about Joel. 

“But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel,” you heard Maria say. You stopped outside the window to listen.

“Oh, like how he used to kill people? I know about that,” Ellie said.  

“So then you understand my concern.”

“He doesn't do that anymore,” Ellie defended him. 

“He stopped killing people?” Maria asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” 

You chose that moment to walk into the house, finding Ellie sitting in the kitchen, Maria cutting her hair. 

“Tommy was following Joel. The way you are now,” Maria said looking at you. 

“No offence but you have no idea what you are talking about,” you said and she raised her eyebrow. 

“I think I do,” she said, putting the scissors down. 

“Yeah? You are comparing a fourteen year old girl to a fully grown man who had all the time in the world to step away and stop what we did back then. But he didn’t. He never stops. He’s a fucking…” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. 

“He told me about you. About how he regrets leaving without a word,” Maria said. 

You scoffed. 

“Sure he does. He always regrets doing things after he did them. That’s why he never sent word that he’s alive.”

“That’s my fault. And he didn’t know that you’d be coming to look for him,” she said.

“That’s what family does. We look out for each other. But maybe we’re not family anymore. Come on Ellie,” you said and she got up from the chair immediately, walking towards you. 

“Stop,” Maria said and you sighed. 

“I’ll take her to the movies and you…. I think you, Joel and Tommy need to talk.”

“You’re angry,” Joel looked up at you as you sat down next to him. He was trying to fix his boots. 

“I thought I wasn’t anymore but…. Fuck look around this place? I’m just so… Fuck I really want to punch him,” you groaned and Joel chuckled. 

“I know the feelin’,” he sighed. 

You let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes. 

You felt his lips on your temple. 

„You gonna tell him?“ He whispered. Your opened your eyes, shaking your head. 

„Don’t think he would care,“ you mumbled. 

„I think you would be surprised,“ he said quietly.

You both sat there in silence for a moment. 

„I’m weak,“ Joel said after a moment. You sat yourself up, your head turning to look at him. 

„What do you mean?“ 

He sighed, not looking up at you as he focused on fixing his shoes. 

„Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night,“ he said quietly. 

You carefully put your hand on his shoulder.

„What kinda dreams?“

„I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin’,“ you saw the tears in his eyes. You knew something had changed in the last weeks. He was more quiet, staring of in the distance when he thought you weren’t looking. 

„I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I fail you again and again. I see you die ever single night in my dreams and I…“ you put your arms around his shoulders, tears running down your cheeks. 

„I can’t protect you anymore,“ he whispered and you tensed.

„I’m gonna… I’m gonna ask Tommy to take her. I’m just gonna get her killed. Both of you. I know it. I have to leave…“ you did not give him a chance to continue, jumping up from your position. 

„You gonna ask Tommy to take her? What about me? You gonna just…. Let him take me too? Because you know I won’t leave her. We’re all she has Joel,“ you said, your voice getting louder. 

„You could stay here. It’s safe. You would be safe…“ he said but you shook your head. 

„Stay here with Tommy? Super happy Tommy who finally got the right woman pregnant?“ You yelled. 

He said your name, pleading but you shook your head. 

„You know, I should have seen this coming. I knew I would end up alone. First him, now you… I really thought that you felt…“ you shook your head, „How silly of me to think it would be different with you…“ you laughed bitterly, stubbornly brushing the tears away. 

You took a deep breath. 

„One day you are gonna wake up and realise that the only reason why you feel so alone, is because you pushed everyone away. Because you think you don’t deserve to be cared for. Tommy, Ellie…. Me….,“ you shook your head before you looked at him. 

„Don’t bother asking Tommy. I’m gonna leave with her first thing in the morning. You’ll never gonna see either of us again,“ you said before you turned around, ignoring him calling after you, hoping you’d made it back to the house before you broke down. 

You hadn’t even crossed the street when you heard your name being called, Tommy’s familiar voice startling you. 

You just walked faster, not bothering to stop. 

„Please just…“ you felt his hand on your shoulder and you whirled around, glaring up at the man you once loved so much. 

„Leave me alone,“ you gritted through your clenched teeth, before turning away from him. 

„It’s what you Miller’s do best,“ you called over your shoulder before you made your way back to the house. 

You laid awake in bed when you heard the door open. 

You had told Ellie in the most gentle way that it would only be you who would take her to the fireflies. Of course she had questions, and you promised her to answer every single one once you were on the road. 

She had fallen asleep rather quickly before you made your way to the biggest bedroom. You just laid down on the bed, fully clothed staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by. 

You were broken, you had been for a long time. 

The only thing you could always count on to keep you going was Joel. 

He was your rock and part of you always thought you were his. Even when he was with Tess or any other women. At the end of the day, once he needed someone to talk, to really talk to, he always came to you. 

He held you when you found out you were pregnant after Tommy left. 

He was there when you woke up in pain, he was there when you found out you lost the baby.

He was always there. 

And along the way you fell in love with him. 

You turned your head to look at Joel who was standing in the door just looking at you. 

It was like there was something in the air all of the sudden, the hairs on your neck standing up as his eyes moved over your body, his gaze lingering on your lips. 

„I’m sorry,“ he said quietly, slowly walking towards you. 

When you didn’t say anything as he stopped in front of the bed he slowly sat down, reaching for one of your hands. You were too tired to fight him.  

„You were right,“ he started, his thumb running over the back of your hand, his head turned down. 

„I keep pushing you away because I’m so fucking scared to lose someone else I…,“ he shook his head. 

„I care about. I care about you so much, it scares me. It would kill me if something happened to you, because I was to weak to protect you. And I… I can’t lose you. I just can’t. I wanna keep you safe and….“

„Joel….“ You interrupted him and he looked at you as you slowly sat yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed next to him. You reached the hand he was not holding up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, his eyes closing slowly as he released a shuddering breath. 

Your hand lingered on his skin, your fingertips rubbing over the corner of his lips and his eyes flipped open, finding yours. 

„You know I love you, right?“ You whispered and his eyes softened for a small moment, before he nodded. 

„Then please let me in and let me love you,“ you said before you leaned in and kissed him softly.

He tensed for a moment before one of his hands came to the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, his other hand on your back. 

„Joel,“ you gasped, your hands pulling at his shirt until he parted from you, taking his shirt off. You let your hands wander up your chest before you pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in just your old bra.

„Fucking beautiful,“ he whispered before he kissed you again, slowly leaning over you until you were laying in bed with him above you. 

Joel slowly kissed down your throat, your chest until he gave all his attention to your breasts. He sucked on your nipples through the thin worn fabric of your bra until you sat yourself up, almost making him fall off the bed, both of you laughing as you took it off, a groan leaving his mouth, one of his hands palming himself. You bit into your bottom lip before you got closer to him, your fingers opening his belt buckle, then his pants. 

He stopped you before you could get any further. 

„Let me make you feel good first,“ he whispered, kissing you forehead. 

„Later,“ you said, looking at him, something in his eyes darkening as he saw the lust in yours. 

Within seconds you both were naked and he just looked at you in awe as he knelt between your parted legs. 

His hands wandered up your thighs, his fingers running shivers over your whole body, your back arching. 

„Please Joel,“ you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his hips until he finally leaned down and kissed you, one of his hand wrapped around his cock as he swiped the head through your wet pussy, teasing your clit with it, making you moan.

He lined himself up, kissing you deeply as he slowly entered you inch by inch, both of you panting against each others mouths.

„Shiiiit, you feel perfect. Fucking perfect,“ he grunted before he began to move, thrusting slowly inside of you, his arms wrapped around your body, his lips all over you. 

No matter how close he was, you wanted him closer, your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him against you as he continued to fuck you deeply. 

He kissed away the tears that escaped your eyes, overwhelmed at finally being so close to him. Holding him. Feeling him. 

He made you cum twice before he pulled out and came with a groan of your name, his cum spilling all over your stomach. 

He cleaned you up after, holding you close, kissing you until you fell asleep. 

While he watched over you, praying to whatever god there still was, that you would forgive him. 

You didn’t stir when Joel left your bed after he watched you sleep until the room slowly filled with light at the upcoming sunrise. 

You didn’t feel it as he kissed your forehead before he slowly got up from the bed and got dressed, grabbing his bag. 

You didn’t hear his whispered „Forgive me“ as he stepped out of the room.

You were sleeping so deeply you didn’t even hear Eliie argue as Joel walked her out of the house.

Not looking back towards the house you were sleeping in. 

The first thing you noticed was that you were warm. You hadn’t felt warm in a long time. Smiling to yourself you slowly opened your eyes, frowning immediately as you noticed how bright it was outside. 

Your eyes found the old cock on the bedside table, widening as you noticed that it was already around noon. 

„Shit,“ you cursed, your head now turning to the other side of the bed where Joel had laid next to you only to find it empty. 

A uneasy feeling washed over you as you took the room in, finding it vacant of anything that belonged to Joel. 

Suddenly fully awake you jumped out of bed, dressing yourself within seconds before you walked out of the room and across the hallway opening the door to the room Ellie had been asleep in. 

Empty. 

Your breath came in short pants, your throat squeezing tight, the beginnings of a panic attack making their entrance as your hands started to shake. 

Shaking your head you tried to get your lungs to fill with air, your back leaning against the wall behind you. 

Tears were springing into your eyes.

He wouldn’t just leave you after last night. Right?

Not after he….

A knock on the door let you jump up, running down the stairs, opening the door to find the wrong Miller brother standing in front of it, his expression one you could read without words. 

„He’s gone, isn’t he?“ You whispered. 

Tommy only nodded. 

Taking a deep breath you looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head slowly. 

„Talked to the council. You can stay here as long as you want. Gotta take up some work at some point but there’s no rush…“

You scoffed. 

„You must be really delusional if you think I am going to stay here,“ you said, looking at him. You were still angry, but more so tired. Tired of always being the second choice.

He said your name, almost pleading. 

„I’m sorry for not telling you before I left. I thought it was easier to just… rip the bandaid off. I knew you’d be okay. You’re one of the strongest people I ever met. And I… I just couldn’t stay there with Joel and….“

You wanted to tell him then. 

To tell him that he broke that strong person he thought you were. 

Finding out the day after he left that you were pregnant with his child, broke you. 

And you couldn’t tell him that to this day you blamed that the stress of him leaving made you lose the baby you never got to meet. 

It wouldn’t help anyone to tell him. 

„I am going to get my stuff and I want a horse and some supplies. Then I’ll be out of here. I can’t keep doing this…“ you said. 

„No, No please stay. I want to… I want to make this right between us. I promised Joel I…“ Tommy began, but you held a hand up, stopping him. 

„Maybe you and your brother should try talking to me before making all the decisions for me. A horse and some supplies. You owe me that much. After that I’ll make sure we never cross ways again,“ you didn’t wait for his reply, turning around and marching up the stairs to pack your stuff. 

An hour later you were settled on top of a horse called Diamond. Tommy had gotten you the supplies you asked for, even a first aid kid and walked next to you as the gate opened. 

„Where are you gonna go?“ He asked. 

„Away,“ you only answered, even though you had a clear destination in mind, before you took one last look at him. You saw his wife standing on the end of the street, watching you. 

As you looked back at Tommy you realised that you felt nothing for the man who was looking up at you now.

„I know you love him,“ he startled you. 

„Pretty sure he loves you too, so once you found him, don’t be too hard on him. We Miller’s a stubborn bunch of people who only want to protect the people we love. Even if it ends up hurting them even more,“ he said, keeping his eyes on you. 

„Take care of your wife,“ was all you said before you kicked your legs to ride out of Jackson. 

The town you found shelter in seemed abandoned enough to rest until this blizzard passed by. It should’t be more than a days ride to the university of the fireflies now, but you could not make it in this storm. So you bunked down in a abandoned house, the windows and doors already barricaded making sure Diamond, your horse, had something to drink and eat in the garage before you bunked down in the surprisingly tidy house next to it. 

You even found some food, including long expired peaches that brought a small smile to your face as you thought about how much Ellie would love them. 

It was on the next morning that you heard a noise outside. You made your way into the garage, finding Diamond getting nervous too.

You petted her nose before you slowly risked a glance outside of the broken window of the garage, your eyes widening when through the heavy snow falling outside, you could make Ellie out on top of a horse. 

You put your jacket on and opened the door, startling the girl who now had her riffle pointed at you. 

You held your hands up and her shoulders fell as she realised who you were, starting to sob. 

It was then that you noticed that the horse she was sitting on, was dragging something behind it, the air leaving your lungs one one gasp as you realised that it was Joel.

And he was not awake.

„How long?“ You asked Ellie, willing your fingers to warm up as you dug through your first aid kit. 

Ellie had helped you carry Joel inside. Now she was sitting on the little sofa, her tears still running down her cheek as she watched you. 

„Three hours ago? Maybe more? I don’t know. We… We were at the university and we…. We were almost out when that man….“

You were closer to the university than you thought then.

You were dying to walk over to her to soothe her, but Joel was your first priority. He looked very pale, his lips blue from the cold. With shaking fingers your unzipped his jacket, fighting down the whimper as you saw how much blood he was still loosing, your hand immediately pressing down to stop the bleeding.

Ellie had made a good job with the bandage she had put on his wound. 

He didn’t even stir. 

„It was a broken baseball bat. He… he pulled it out and he was okay at first but then he… he… he fell and now he’s not….“

„Ellie,“ you said and she looked at you with wide wet eyes. 

„You did the right thing. He shouldn’t have pulled it out but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I am… I am gonna try to fix him, okay?“ You said, nodding as if to make yourself believe that you could. 

She mirrored you.

„Can I help?“ Ellie asked. 

„There’s a bathroom upstairs. Get as many towels as possible and then get a bucket with snow from outside. Snow from the top. We need…. We need to clean him. But I don’t have… We….“ You took a deep breath, stopping your ramble.

„Towels and snow, got it,“ she said, throwing her backpack down before she made her way upstairs. 

You took a deep breath, sucking your bottom lip in. 

„Don’t you die on me Joel Miller, I still have to yell at you“ you whispered as you leaned down, to kiss his temple before you used the scissors of your first aid kit to cut his shirt open. 

It came to you on the day after, that the only stitches you ever did were on Joel Miller’s body. You had stitched a cut on his upper arm almost fifteen years ago. Then a bulled wound on his hip.

But that was nothing like what you were dealing with here. 

You had used the little bottle of disinfectant to clean his wound as best as you could, before you stitched him up and he had not even moved a muscle through all of it. 

It was sometime during the early morning hours that he stirred, waking up only enough to ask after Ellie, falling back asleep immediately when you came into his line of view, his whispered name on your lips. 

You and Ellie had pulled him in as many blankets as possible to get him to warm up. 

It was like you checked the wound hourly to make sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore and somehow in the early hours of the afternoon it seemed to stop. 

Ellie was spending almost all her time outside in the garage with the horses after she woke up. She wasn’t talking much, but she had told you that she was glad you had found them. 

A groan made you jump up and you found Joel’s eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings until his eyes focused on you, whispering your name, his voice hoarse.

„How are you feeling?“ You asked softly, coming to kneel next to him, your hand on his cheek. 

„Like I got stabbed by a bat,“ he groaned and you felt the tears springing into your eyes as you smiled sadly. 

„Not the time for jokes Miller,“ you said and he sighed, his head turning in your hand.

„Ellie?“ He asked. 

„In the garage with the horses,“ you said and he nodded slowly. 

„'Am sorry,“ he said and you shook your head. 

„It’s okay,“ you said and now he shook his head. 

„Was a shitty thing to leave,“ he grunted. 

„Yeah it was. And I am gonna yell at you for that, but only once you are all healed up,“ you promised with a small smile, your fingers brushing over your skin. 

The door flew open and Ellie ran in with wide eyes. 

„There was someone out there,“ she said and your eyes widened before you got up while she knelled down next to Joel who was trying to get up.

„Wait here with him and do not let him get up,“ you instructed Ellie as you made your way out into the garage. 

The windows of the whole house were barricaded so the only way to actually look outside were the broken windows over the garage door. 

You carefully stepped onto the chair you had found inside to look out of the window and you could see three men walk down the street, as if they were looking for something. They didn’t look like they were raiders, not carrying any kind of bags or supplies on them. And only one was holding a handgun. You were glad that it had continued to snow during the night, covering up all the tracks that led to the house. 

You watched as they rounded the block, noticing how thin they looked as they walked back the way they came from, unease washing over your body. 

„They must be around here somewhere. How far can they get? Rodrick fucking stabbed him with his bat,“ you heard one of them mutter as they walked past the house, your heart stopping. 

They were looking for Joel.

For Joel and Ellie. 

You had to get out of here. 

You watched them until they had left the street, before you got down from the chair.

Still in your thoughts you made you way back inside the house.

The longer you thought about them the more uncomfortable you became. You had the same feeling a couple times before, the last time just before you made it out of Kansas City, a city you only barely survived. 

Both Ellie’s eyes and Joel’s were on you when you entered the room. 

„It would be better for Joel to stay here and heal but…“

„We have to leave?“ Ellie asked and you nodded. 

„I…They are looking for you. I heard them talk,“ you said as you knelt down on the other side of Joel who was looking up at you. You put your hand on his forehead, noticing that he was running a little hot. 

You would need medicine for him. You only had some expired aspirin. That wouldn’t help him if his wound got infected. 

„We’ll leave first thing in the morning,“ you decided, hoping that it would be for the best.

It was a four day ride back to Jackson.

Four days that felt like four weeks. 

Joel had been strong enough to get on his feet on the morning you left and both Ellie and you had helped him up into the saddle before you got onto the horse in front of him, using two belts you had found upstairs to strap him against you, his arms coming to wrap around you.

You heard every groan of pain he let out as he tried to keep himself up on the horse. 

On the second day, once you were far enough away from the town you felt him burn up, mumbling against your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. 

It was getting harder to keep him on the horse with you, Ellie riding next to you, her worried eyes always on Joel. 

More than once he told you to just leave him and get both you and Ellie to safety but you and Ellie were having none of it. 

When you saw the gates of Jackson you were almost crying, Ellie galloping in front of you even though you called after her to slow down, hoping they wouldn’t just shot her on sight. 

But then the gate opened and for the first time in a long time you were glad to see Tommy Miller running towards you, already yelling commands out. 

The next hours were a blur. 

You pretty much passed out the moment you knew Joel was taken care off. You woke up to beeping in a dark room, only a little lamp on the table next to the bed you were laying in,  your eyes immediately finding Ellie who had cuddled on the bed next to you. You carefully put an arm around her before you noticed someone else in the room. 

Joel was laying in the bed next to yours, the constant beep of the monitor telling you that his heart was still beating. 

You closed your eyes, releasing a shuddering breath as you tried to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape your eyes. 

Ellie shifted in your arms and she turned around, her arm sneaking around you, her eyes looking up at you. 

„Thank fuck you’re awake, these people around here are weird,“ she said and you huffed a laugh, hugging her closer. 

„How long…?“ You asked but she interrupted you. 

„We came here yesterday just before dinner. Breakfast was two hours ago? I’m not sure,“ she mumbled. You both jumped when the door opened, your head turning just in time to see Tommy walk in, followed from an older man. 

„You’re awake,“ the man said and you sat yourself up, the sudden move making your head spin. 

„I’m Carl, I’m the town doctor,“ he introduced himself to you before he walked over to Joel.

„Is he gonna be okay?“ You asked.

„Thanks to some medication and some generous blood donations,“ he eyed Tommy, „he should be making a full recovery. Nice stitches,“ he complemented and you released a relieved breath.

„You should have seen the blood transfusion, it was super gross,“ Ellie said with a shudder that made you laugh. 

„I want you to rest too. You were severely dehydrated. That must have been some exhausting couple of days for you,“ he said, giving you a small smile before he looked at Tommy and left the room. 

It was quiet in the room for a moment as you tried not to look at Tommy. 

Ellie suddenly sat herself up with a hum.

„Weeeeeell this isn’t awkward at all, so I’m gonna go and get us some food,“ she announced before she jumped off the bed and left you alone with the Miller brothers. 

For a long time the only noise inside the room was the constant beeping of Joel’s heart monitor.

„Why did you leave without saying anything?“ You finally asked and Tommy shifted in the chair he was sitting in. 

„I couldn’t stay. Joel was…. He was getting more and more reckless. Then there was the fucking drugs. I wanted to… I though I could make the world better. just couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself any longer. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t deserve that,“ he said and you nodded. 

„I know the things we all did were horrible. They haunt me too. And Joel…“ you look at him, sleeping in his bed. 

„He was never the same after Sarah,“ you whispered. 

„We all weren’t. We just dealt with it differently,“ Tommy said and you nodded. 

„Are you gonna stay?“ He asked and you sighed, looking at him. There was no point in keeping a grudge anymore. Not after what happened. You were safe. Ellie was safe. Joel was safe and hopefully close to being okay again. 

„I have to tell you one thing,“ you decided. He deserved to know why you had been so angry. Why you blamed him for every single bad thing that happened after he left. 

„Okay,“ he said, nodding at you. 

„On the morning after I found out your left, I also found out that I was pregnant,“ you said quietly, seeing his eyes widen, before he took a deep breath. 

„I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I am telling you so you can understand why I was so angry and hurt,“ you explained. 

„I can’t keep blaming you for every bad thing that happens to me,“ you whispered. 

„What,“ he cleared his throat, „what happened?“ He asked. 

„I lost it six weeks after you left,“ you said with a sad smile, your finger brushing the tear away that ran down your cheek. 

He looked wrecked.

„I’m so fucking sorry,“ he shook his head, his hand running through his hair. 

You shrugged. 

„It just wasn’t meant to be,“ you sobbed, cursing to yourself as you turned your head to hide your face against the pillow. 

„Fucking hug her,“ you both heard Joel grunt and you almost jumped up, your head spinning again. 

„Joel, thank fuck,“ Tommy said before he jumped out of his chair as he saw you get out of bed on shaky legs. His arms held you up as you stumbled towards Joel’s bed who gave you a painful smile. 

„Come on, let’s get you into bed,“ Tommy whispered before he helped you sit down, pulling your legs up onto the bed as you carefully laid down next to Joel, his right arm opening for you. 

You put your hand on his chest, careful to not hurt him as you inhaled his familiar, if somewhat sweaty, scent. 

„I’ll leave you two alone,“ Tommy said as he looked at the both of you, but you were already asleep. 

„I’ll take care of her,“ Joel whispered before he kissed your forehead. 

Six weeks later

„I fucking hate math!“ Ellie groaned, letting her head fall against the table.

„Language!“ Joel called from the kitchen and she rolled her eyes while you held back a giggle. 

„Nobody likes math,“ you assured her, your arm wrapping around her shoulder. 

„Why do I have to learn it then?“

„Because that’s just the way life is. We all have to learn shit we don’t want,“ you said, you both laughing when Joel again called you out on your cursing. 

„I am a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller, leave me alone,“ you yelled towards the kitchen, only to hear his footsteps seconds later before he appeared in the door, both of his hands on his hips, giving you an exhausting head shake. 

„What am I gonna do with you?“ He asked before he walked over. You let go of Ellie’s shoulder as he stepped closer, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.

„Ugh gross,“ Ellie gagged, jumping out of her seat. 

„I’m gonna go and ask Dina to help me with math!“ She said, running out of the house, the door falling closed behind her. 

„She forgot her homework,“ Joel said, now kissing your neck. 

„Mmmmmhhh….“ You nodded, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up your neck. 

One of his hands sneaked to the front of your shirt until his palm softly palmed your breast. 

„Think you’re up for some…. Biology?“ He asked and you giggled, getting up from your chair to turn around, your arms crossing behind his neck. 

„Birds and bees again?“ You said, playfully annoyed while he nodded, all serious, before you both broke out in laughter. 

„We gotta work on your flirting, Miller,“ you said before you kissed him, shrieking when his fingers pinched your ass. 

„Love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you smiled. 

„Love you too,“ you whispered before you let him guide you towards your bedroom. 

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Tommy Miller x fem. reader #Tommy Miller #Pedro Pascal #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction