The New FOB Album Has Me Screaming Crying Throwing Up Spiraling Into A Mania. It's So Good My Favorite

The new FOB album has me screaming crying throwing up spiraling into a mania. It's so good my favorite is I am my own muse. I don't have anything deep to say about it right now. I just like it

Yesssss I love ittt I love when they're vulnerable 🥺🥺

It would kill you to try? Part. 3 Javier Peña x Female reader

pairing: Javier Peña x Female reader

summary: after that unpredictable expedition you were forced to do to save Javier’s ass. You three phase the consequences for that. And he makes you a little visit to apologize.

chapter content/warning: swearing (like always), mention of prostitution, alcohol.

english is not my first language so, sorry if you find any typos. ups!

—

“There’s going to be a little change of plans” stated Messina sitting on her chair.

Javier clenched his jaw and touched his mustache nervously. Both him and Murphy were called to Messina’s office to have a little talk about the previos situation. They didn’t have a clue of how the hell the DEA found out about their little expedition. But anything related to Pablo Escobar was known sooner or later in this country. Also his bruises and the black eye that was starting to heal could’ve gave it away easily. Murphy was as tense as he was. Even though they were used to being scolded, they both knew this one was a tricky one. But he couldn’t stop wondering one thing the entire time, why weren’t you in the room.

“Where’s Gomez?” he asked beforehand.

“Well, Peña, I was about to cover that part but before anything. Could you explain why you decided, like always, take matters into you own hands, risking not only your work partners lives but their work positions” Messina asked rhetorically, crossing her arms and looking at the man with a threatening stare.

The room went silent and Murphy focused his eyes on the floor. Meanwhile, Javier played with his tongue inside of his mouth.

“I was trying to prevent that from happening by doing it myself.” he started in a calm tone “I guess it didn’t go as planned.”

Murphy shifted in his seat, covering his mouth in an attempt to not laugh at his stupid response. He knew that something Peña was not good at were apologies.

“And don’t you think maybe, you could’ve prevent all of that by simply thinking before acting by impulse?” insisted Messina.

“Well sometimes there’s no time to think, boss” he finally answered seriously “I apologize for everything that caused. But I had no other choice.”

Messina looked at him with anger. Real anger. She wasn’t able to understand how irresponsable they both could be, but at the same time, she didn’t trust other people to handle their positions as much as she trusted them.

“Uh, can I say something?” interrupted Murphy holding up his hand “I also want to apologize. He called me, just me. But I was the one who reached for Carrillo and Gomez instead of informing the office. So if you have to blame someone for putting people at risks, that’s gotta be me.”

Unlike Javier, Murphy was actually kinda used to apologizing. He was also terrified of losing this job.

“Don’t worry, Murphy. There are consequences for you too.” informed him the woman standing from her seat “Now, onto the good part. I want you, Murphy, to focus on office work for the rest of the week. I don’t want you taking a step out of this walls to do anything related with Pablo Escobar or the Medellin cartel. If you do, you’ll get instantly fired. Am I making myself clear?” she stated demanding, looking directly at Murphy.

The blonde agreed immediately.

“Yes, m’am.”

“Peña” she directed towards the brunette who was waiting for his sentence “since you are so interested on knowing Gomez’s location, you must know she’s taking a couple of days off.”

Both Murphy and him looked at each other with a mix of confusion and concern.

“She wants to clear her mind about her work situation. She’s also recovering from the stress of the past events.”

This time, Javier was the one to focus his stare on the wooden floor.

“And I want you to do the same. You’re taking a week off.”

“Excuse me?” asked the man outraged.

“I don’t want you near the office or close to anything work related” she quickly explained “If I do, I won’t hesitate to send you back to Texas and I’ll make sure nobody hires you as an agent, at least not when it comes to the territory of The Unitet States.”

Shit was getting real this time.

“With all my respects, Messina, don’t you think you’re going too far with this? Keeping me away from this office, two agents at the same time? Did she asked you to do this?”

It was clear to him now. You were the one who gave her the whole information about that night. He should’ve seen it coming. The way you talked to him. How you left the hospital room, looking at him like the biggest rock in your shoe. But it was also clear to him that even if he knew sooner, he probably wouldn’t have been able to stop you

Messina ignored his accusations completely.

“Look at the bright side, Peña. I think this might be good for you, it would clear your head and it would give you time to heal those wounds properly” she went back to her seat “…and who knows, maybe after this you’ll get what you always wanted. You might ended up working alone.” She finished in a dry tone.

It was true. He had always wanted that. It wasn’t easy for him to trust somebody else with his job, even when it came to Murphy joining him back in the day. He just wasn’t good at co-working, relaying on someone else’s opinion. But the fact that you might’ve requested changing partners, scar him in a different way. Specially cause he was actually getting used to having you and Murphy by his side. It made him remembered your words. I respected you, I thought it was mutual. He grew fond of you in some way, since the very first day he saw you cry with your mom on the phone. He tried really hard to make things easier from you. To keep you save in some way. He failed at that too.

“I also don’t want you calling her.” she advised like she was capable of reading his mind “She specifically asked to not know anything from you till further notice. Take your time to yourself. Am I making myself clear, Peña?”

He agreed with his head.

“Good. You two can leave now.”

Finally outside of the office, Javier pull out a box of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket and lighted one taking a quick puff.

“Well that was nice” commented Murphy in a sigh, rejecting Peña offering him a cigarette.

“How is she?” Javier asked out of nowhere “Have you talked to her?

Murphy instantly knew he was talking about you.

“She’s pissed but, she’ll be okay” he reassured him “She’s not the first person you pissed off” he joked.

“I really didn’t want to” he confessed in almost a whisper.

Murphy patted his back kindly.

“I know, man. But I think you should really listen to Messina for once, okay. Take your time, don’t do anything stupid.”

He looked back at the blonde.

“And don’t try to explain that to her.” he advised the brunette “She won’t listen.”

—

And you sure didn’t have the energy to. Your mom calling you was the only thing keeping you out of your bed and keeping Peña out of your mind. Not for long, because for some reason she kept asking how everything was, if you were actually as okay as you try to play it off. Maybe it was the fact that it was a Tuesday and you were home instead of at the office. The day after that, maybe too intense and uncalled for night, you three try to play it off at the office like nothing had happened. Like Peña’s bruises weren’t an actual thing, despise the perpetual stares of horror from half of his fan club of women and the babbling of the men. Like your inability to focus on anything and your lack of sense was just a result of poor sleep or like Murphy almost finishing two packs of cigarettes was just the common thing. You were surprised nobody asked anything. Nobody let out even a simple joke. And even after all, things just stayed the same. It didn’t matter if any of you actually felt the same. So when your lunch break came and you left the place in search of some freedom from all of that act you were pulling, you found Messina having a coffee in the nearest café you were directing yourself to, and you couldn’t helped it.

“Gomez, are you okay?”

She invited you to seat with her and ordered a glass of fresh water for you. You seemed pale and about to cry. And so you did. You cried and told her everything. Like you cried on your first day with your mom on the phone. You dropped the act. And even at that moment something inside of you hoped deeply, that Javier could forgive you for it.

“¿Y cómo te está yendo con los chicos? ¿son guapos?” (how’s it going with the boys? are they cute?)

“Mom, please” you replied embarrassed, covering your face while washing your cup of tea on the sink.

“I guess it’s better if you don’t tell, you know what your dad thinks about you possibly marrying a cop.” She replied in a jokingly way.

“Well, dad often forgets I am a cop. Y a parte, ¿matrimonio? ustedes me tienen mucha fé” (and besides, marriage? you have so much faith in me).

“Somos de la vieja escuela, mi amor” she laughed through the phone. And you couldn’t help but miss hearing that laugh live.

A knock on the door shocked you completely out of your nostalgic state. And you were quick to put the phone down on the table to grab your gun from the drawer next to your bed.

“Honey?” you heard your mom through the phone while you tried to figure out who could possibly be.

You didn’t have any friends in Colombia yet, and the postman had already pass by this morning. You grabbed the phone again in a attempt to ignore the person behind your door.

“Yeah?”

Another knock. This time with one hand on the gun and the other on the phone, you approached the door slowly. Careful to make the least amount of sound, just to be able to hear something that indicated who the heck was the stranger that kept insisting to make you paranoid.

“¿Pasa algo?” your mom sounded concerned about you lack of response.

“I know you’re in there, Gomez” suddenly Peña’s deep voice ruined the mystery completely.

Hiding your gun inside of you back pocket, you opened the door to a -full on dress in a suit- Peña. With his glasses hanging from the collar of his white shirt and one hand resting on his hip while the other one was on the door frame.

For fucks sake. Didn’t he get the message from Messina?

“Mamá me tengo que ir, te llamo mañana en la mañana ¿sí?” you hanged the phone before your mom could ask any more questions “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“¿Le hablas de mí a tú mamá?” (Do you talk to your mom about me?) he suddenly asked mocking your spanish, a slight grin adorning his face.

“No sabe ni que existes, Peña” (She doesn’t even know you exists).

That caused him to grab his chest with one hand, faking the pain.

“I guess that’s better, moms don’t usually like me.”

“I wonder why” you replied in a dry tone, blocking the entrance.

That gave him time to inspect you better. He was so dressed up compare to you, and to him it was a little shocking seeing you in just some ripped shorts and a t-shirt. Clean face, showing the tiredness of your eyes and the posible left trace of tears in your cheeks from this morning. It made his heart sink a little, you looked so tiny in front of him. But in some way he find it cute. You looked cute as you.

“Look if you’re here to scold me for being a snitch, I don’t care.” you started looking into his eyes while shaking your head “I really don’t care about anything you have to say besid-…”

“Did you asked Messina to change partners?”

The sudden question took you by surprise, did he really just came here to ask you that?

“Umm…”

“Can I come in?” he asked again without even letting you find an answer to his previous questions.

Javier Peña, the man who almost didn’t even think to approach you at the office weeks ago, not only lectured you about your fears, put your life at risks and created your ever first conflict with someone at work, but also was there, at your house. Sitting down in your kitchen, drinking whiskey and lighting up a cigarette. Just talking and actually being concerned about you? If somebody would’ve told you a month ago, this would be your situation, you would’ve laugh at their face. And freak out, probably. You couldn’t deny, he had his ways. It’s not like you shared the same sentiment all those girls he hooked up with and the ones who wished for it, did at work. But you could slightly understand the hype. He had a way with words and after a couple glasses and some smokes, it almost felt like you weren’t mad at him anymore. You talked in Spanish, English, joked about Murphy and those pricks at the office.

“I just simply don’t understand, he’s been what? how many months in Colombia and he doesn’t know shit in Spanish?” you commented between tipsy laughs about Murphy’s situation “I just feel like….” you took a sip from your beer “at this point, it’s just deeply disrespectful.”

You both laughed and Javier watched you as tears f try to scape your eyes. You looked slightly flushed, relaxed. You didn’t really liked whiskey, you preferred beer. And he wondered how someone could still look elegant while drinking beer straight from the bottle.

“And still you prefer him over me.”

He noticed. They way you two talked to each other. Your little jokes. Steve made you feel more comfortable in your shoes than he did. This was the closest he’s ever gotten to share a moment with you without the drama. And alcohol had to be involved.

“Well I’m sorry, you scare me a little.” You replied, taking another sip. Sober Y/n would’ve never said that to his face.

“And why is that?” he asked with a grin.

“I don’t know, it’s all this” you said shaking your hands up and down his figure “It’s your aura.”

“My aura” he repeated mocking your tone.

“It’s like you’re constantly trying to intimidate people” you explained “You just have in you. Some people like it and some others, like me who just don’t have it at all, run from it.”

He kept silence for a while, taking another puff from his cigarette. He looked like someone out of a movie. You really liked his mustache. It suited his face.

“You looked pretty intimidated to me when you decided to enter that building by yourself” he finally stated finishing the cigarette and dropping the ash in the ashtray.

He remembered you. Holding the gun towards him, fierce expression in your eyes. You looked powerful. In other circumstances he would’ve find that kind of sexy.

“I wasn’t by myself, I was with Carrillo” you corrected, stealing a cigarette from his package over the table.

“But still, you lead, didn’t you?” you shrugged “Or at the hospital, you can’t deny that one.”

You felt kind of embarrassed recalling that.

“Shit. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, you’re good at pissing people off, we have that in common.”

You giggled at that.

“And…about the hookers.”

“You really do not have to explain anything to me” you anticipated.

But he insisted.

“It’s true” both of your faces fell a little “I used to frequent those places. But I don’t do that anymore.” He finished his whiskey, almost as a way of gaining energy.

“Well then you should tell the girls, they’re really interested to know, they’ll been asking me a concerning amount of questions about your sentimental status” you joked trying to brush the tension off.

“The girls? Really? Just the girls?”

“Yes” you answered raising up your eyebrows “And most of the time…I don’t know what to tell them, they’re gonna start thinking we’re fucking or something.”

He laughed. He really didn’t care about the girls.

“That’ll be fine for me. I don’t know about you.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed again.

A brief silence grew between the both. Absorbing the moment, you spoke again.

“I just wanna make sure that you’re a good man, Javier” he was a little taken back about you saying his name, with the perfect tone, perfect pronunciation “Because just a couple days ago, I kinda thought you were.”

For the first time he didn’t look away.

“You always manage to leave me speechless, Gomez” he admitted with a side smile that fade away once he seriously answered “I’d also like you to believe that. But I’m not perfect. I had my ways to deal with that in the past.”

“You don’t have to go back to that.”

It was easy said than done. But he thought, maybe he’ll try.

“Thank you for being there” he said instead “Saving my ass and shit.”

“It’s duty. Just talk to the girls.” you insisted taking his glass and your bottles out of the table.

“I really wouldn’t mind if they think we’re fucking.”

“Okay, you can go now.”

-

tags: @nightlockcornucopia @jasminedragoon

Everyday I become a little more blessed with beautifully written smut

biéten

(Joel Miller x F!reader)

Read part I here

Masterlist

Summary: Now that you have his baby in you, you’re Joel’s most special girl. 

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Content Warnings: pregnant sex; vaginal fingering; very brief ass play; oral sex (m! and f! receiving); face sitting; dirty talk; praise kink, daddy kink, DDlg dynamics; ridiculous amount of pet name use (not sorry)

A/N: Had to wait until it was dark outside to post this obscene shit.

Word Count: 3.2k

Read on AO3

You stare up at the sky, the azure so pure and vibrant it stings your sensitive eyes, makes them go hazy and unfocused. Every single part of you is sensitive right now. Huge and uncomfortable and hot everywhere. Your skin feels stretched to the point of bursting, the membrane so thin it seems as though at any moment you’ll split down the middle. Let the world see the inside of you, like an overripe fruit cleaved down its center. 

And your cunt, so sensitive – swollen and dripping at all hours of the day now. Never satisfied, always hungry. You can’t touch yourself anymore, for everything was uncomfortable and pulsing and hot, and the only thing that seemed to satisfy was him.  You needed him. Nothing else would do. But he’d been gone for so long. Out working in the field all day, tending to the sheep, leaving you here alone to miss him. You’d come outside to find a place you fit, the inside of the farmhouse too seemingly confined to hold all you’d become now. You needed a spot to make yourself comfortable. Spread out on the soft blanket you’d dragged out, the tiny pearl buttons of your loose dress open just over your swollen belly to let the warm sun seep into the skin, soothe the restless child within. Nothing calmed them either, nothing but the nearness of their father. The two of you were very alike these days, so it seemed, mother and child, always in need of him.

You close your eyes now, let the sound of the outdoors lull you. Relief is nowhere to be found, and the brightness of the sun makes shapes dance behind your closed lids. The warmth seeping through the thin membrane, into your eyeballs. You wonder what the sex will be. You’re desperate to know, desperate for them to arrive. Joel says he knows – that he saw it in a dream. But he won’t tell you, says it’s their secret, their first secret. That you’ll find out once they’re here. Being left out makes you interminably cross. 

“Here you are,” his voice comes then. You’re sure the breeze has carried him to you with the intensity of your yearning. You sigh, smile at him, still without opening your eyes. 

Finally.

He comes closer, his tall frame casting your face in his shadow. “Come inside, little one. I’ll run you a cool bath.”

“I can’t,” you pout, “Don’t fit.” He kneels beside you, clicks his tongue in what you know is a surrender of mock sympathy. “I’m huge and uncomfortable and itchy and hot.” You’re sure you could cry now on command if prompted to. 

“My poor girl. Come inside. A bath’ll make you feel better,” he coaxes. 

“No, no– I can’t breathe in there, I don’t fit, I have to be out here.” You stretch your arms high over your head, arching, presenting your full breasts and belly to him. You can feel the desire in it like a brand upon your skin. 

“Need to feel the wind and the sun?” he coos, and you nod your head at him, you’ve still not opened your eyes, enjoying the sound of his voice. The deep timber of it like vibrations stroking the smoldering heat between your thighs. You press them together and he gives a small hum of notice, silently saying: ah, so that’s it, that’s what you really need. 

“What else do you need, my sweet girl?”

“Just you, daddy,” and you open your eyes now, his face is held right above yours, thick arms propped up around your head, caging you in. 

“Hmm, let me see.” He moves between your legs, opens them to fit himself within their spread, and you see heat flare in his eyes at finding you bare beneath the soft blue cotton of your dress. “No panties?” 

You shake your head, “Mm-mm.”

He brushes the back of his knuckles over your puffy, wet lips, “Oh baby – look at this, so messy,” he tuts, “What were you thinkin’ about?”

“You, daddy,” your voice is breathy, whiny. “Will you kiss it better? It hurts,” you draw the vowel out into a pout, try and inflect all your needy desperation into the words, spread your legs wider for him. You feel on the verge of tears. 

“No, don’t cry. It’s okay, I’ll take care of you–” You let your eyes flutter closed again, let the comfort of his voice and his touch seep into your bones. That soft, gentle knuckle still passing soothingly over the swollen mess between your legs, not yet going inside to where it aches the most. 

“So soft, so sensitive… I know, I know,” he says at your mewling, “I’m gonna be so, so gentle with this soft cunt, don’t worry. I’m here now.” He dips his fingers into your slit, his knuckle brushing feather light on your clit, and you jolt back, so sensitive. He draws back, still connected by a thin gleaming string of your arousal. “Look at her drool, what a desperate little cunt you have.” You shift your hips side to side, try and tempt him to touch you again. “I gotta make you come, baby. No – no tears, it’s okay, don’t worry. It’ll make you feel better.” He starts a slow circular pattern over your clit, round and round. 

“More, daddy, please–” you beg. Your eyes are wet, the threat of tears ready to spill, and you’d feel ridiculous if you weren’t so wholly overwhelmed, so sensitive, needing him so much

. 

“We have to go slow, my love. Gotta be gentle. You’re so sensitive here.” He pets at your clit more fully now, the rough callus of his thumb catching on the tender skin so that you’re arching your back, a high keen crawling up your throat. “Oh, that’s it – I know–” He moves to cup you then, the entire span of your mound held in the large palm of his hand. His middle finger reaching all the way to the little furl of muscle furthest back. “You want me here too, sweetheart? What if I fuck you here right now? Would that help?”

“Oh, please, please–”

“No,” he clicks his tongue, “No, I don’t think so. I think you need me in your soft pussy more, don’t you?” His thumb presses over the opening of your cunt, the gentlest of pressures, just letting you feel the promise of him there, and back up to your clit again – another swirl. He gives you a single finger then, and you moan low and wanton, canting your hips to let him in deeper. Your insides feel so swollen, so sensitive, like nothing you’d ever felt before he’d gotten you pregnant, entirely overwhelmed by his presence inside you at all times. “That’s it, just like that, hmm?”

“More, Joel– please, more–”

“You need more, little one?” You nod your head in tandem with the roll of your hips, staring up at him wide eyed. You’ll never tire of looking at him, the mess of silver streaked curls, the tiny lines surrounding his eyes, all attributed to all the smiles you can coax out of him now. No more stress, no more anxiety or fear. He’s so beautiful. He gives you another finger, curls them within you to hook onto that ultra sensitive spongy patch within you. “Oh, God–” your eyes roll to the back of your head, your fingers clutched into the front of his sweaty shirt, pulling his chest closer to hover over your spread form. 

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, good girl–” The wet slide of them passing in and out of your sensitive channel, the stretch of them, not as significant as his thick cock, but still so good, still so filling. Oh, this was what you needed, yes, yes, yes. 

He’s hunched over you, holding himself up with one thick arm, his tricep bulging obscenely, the sight making you clench down harder on his fingers. You turn your head to press a kiss to the wrist beside your head. He’s so hot, and he’s only yours, and that the thought alone, of him belonging only to you is enough to make you come. Your cunt starts to flutter and pulse, the roll of your hips and the hungry wet sucking pulling his fingers in deeper. You moan, open mouthed and he bends to lick into you. “Fucking come for me, wanna feel it.” And you do, his own little marionette on a string like always, his little doll, his to do with as he pleases, to fuck and fill and plant a baby in. You come just at his command. Your cunt pulls tight, almost painfully, the center of your pleasure furling in a tight knot only to let loose, expand all throughout the muscles of your body in a rushing tingle. He moans deep in his chest in response to the clutch of your inner muscles, the gush of wetness that leaks out onto his waiting palm. “That’s it, yes– what a good girl you are for me.” His fingers gentle, letting your orgasm coast along in cajoling waves. All the hair on your body stands on end, a jittering shiver passing through you. Too sensitive, you’re too sensitive. He pulls his fingers from your sucking heat and slurps the digits into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. He licks the center of his palm, lapping up all of your slick. “Taste so good, baby.” 

“Thank you, daddy,” you sigh. Immediately sleepy and lethargic with the warm sun and the echoing throbs of your orgasm lulling you into drowsiness. 

He plucks a flower from the ground beside the blanket's edge and slips it into your hair beside your ear. “You’re welcome, little one.”

-

He’s asleep in your bed, lying on his back, one thick arm thrown over his head, his hand closed into a fist so that the muscle of his bicep bulges. The other lays on the softly rising plane of his chest. You drag your finger whisper soft over the spidering of veins at his wrist, down the line of his forearm, the ball of his bicep, the strength there makes your cunt clench – hungry, wet again already. You want his cock now. Down, down his chest, through the smattering of hair there, lower, through the hair around his navel. He’s gotten a little softer around the middle since your pregnancy. He calls it sympathy weight. You call it safety.

No more necessity for hours and hours of interminable shifts in the QZ, doing the worst jobs a man could do. Now he was happy, safe and comfortable. He took care of you and the farm and the dog (you’d found him wandering the woods one afternoon. Joel said he was more wolf than house dog. You thought he was very puppy-like). He could relax now.

Your finger continues its slow path down to the edge of the sheet lying over his hips, hiding your favorite part of him. You snake the sheet down, off his naked hips and your mouth waters at the sight. His soft, thick cock, laying heavy on the swell of his belly. The tip is flushed and wide, a thick vein runs the length of it and you can see the tiny subtle pulse of it that echoes each beat of his heart. You bend to press the softest, gentlest kiss you possibly can to that pulse. Then the flat of your tongue dragging from the heavy sack of his balls, up, up to the tip. You take it into your mouth then, and you feel the heavy muscles of his thighs tense, peering up at him, still asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest, still going. Nothing feels more satisfying to you than watching him continue to sleep through this. Knowing that he feels so safe now, so comfortable, that he’s able to sleep so deeply. True rest. 

You start to suck, swirling your tongue around the fat head, dragging the flat of your tongue down to the base and then back up. You let as much saliva as you can pool in your mouth and let it slide out of your mouth and down his length. Making it as wet as you can. He’s getting harder and harder in your mouth and you take him as far back as you can, let the tip rest at the back of your throat as you swallow around him, let the muscles of your throat tighten around him. His breathing is speeding up in his slumber, the little dip of his belly as his breath hitches, getting faster and faster. You bob your head faster, up and down. He’s about to come, you can feel it in the pulsing throb of his erection against your tongue, and then there’s a fist in your hair, pulling you back so sharply tears spring into your eyes – a little reminder of how mean you know he can be, how you like him to be. “Are you being a bad girl?” his sleep thickened voice rumbles. You let his heavy erection pop out of your mouth, and it falls wetly to his belly, bouncing a little with its weight. 

“No, daddy. I’m being a good girl, licking your cock for you. Don’t you like it?” You give him the widest, most innocent look you can muster. 

“And who gave you permission to do that?”

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” You slowly drag your fist up and down the wet length, give the head a cruel little twist that has him baring his teeth at you, growling. 

“Fuck– fuck, yeah– it is–” he whimpers. 

“See, I knew you’d like it.” Voice full of smug petulance, and he’s growling at you at that, from deep in his chest, provoked. 

“Get the fuck up here.” He pulls you up from under your arms so you’re scooting over his belly and chest, towards his face. “Come sit that pretty cunt on my face.” He grips your butt to pull you to hover over his mouth, thighs spread obscenely wide, vulnerable. “All this wet just from sucking my cock?” He licks a long swipe from hole to clit, rumbles his pleasure at your taste from deep in his chest. His lips wrap around your clit to give it a sharp suck and you anchor yourself to the headboard to keep yourself from wilting over like a flower. The swollen round of your belly hides his face from your view, but you can hear how pleased he is from the moans and whimpers he lets out as he devours you. Your breasts are so heavy, aching, nipples swollen, and you clutch one with the hand not holding you up. You start to roll your hips over his face, “Yeah, ride my face, just like that – good girl.” He starts to thrust his tongue inside you, the strong muscle fucking up into you and you grind yourself down onto his mouth. His strong hands keep the roll of your hips steady over his open mouth, slurping down the obscene amount of slick. Your walls start to pulse and flutter. His moan is loud and wanton as you come on his tongue, licking up into you, going back to suck on your clit, giving you the broad flat of his tongue, over and over in a rhythmic pattern that has your orgasm extending out into pulsing waves. Your muscles start to jerk, immediately weak and overwhelmed from the rush of endorphins and you start to fold over. He grips you around the waist to roll you back onto the bed and flips to kneel between your legs. He sits back on his heels and maneuvers you so you’re on your side, tucks a pillow beneath the heavy weight of your belly and another behind your back, so you’re cradled and supported by them. He grips the angry red length of his cock, drags his fist up and down as he stares at you. “Gonna fuck you now, sweetheart. Need you to come on my cock now too.” The look in his eyes is so hungry as he takes you in. Your heavy breasts, swollen with pregnancy, the skin stretched so taught the veins beneath your skin are stark against their flushed paleness. He palms one of them now, gives the nipple a gentle squeeze, careful to not be too rough with your fragile form. 

He loves seeing you like this, love knowing he’s the one that made you look like this. 

He brings your top leg up to open you to him, and you feel the pressure of his cockhead at your clenching entrance. He starts to press in slowly, giving you the entire thick length of him inch by slow inch, so that you feel every ridge and groove as he feeds it to you. 

“My beautiful girl. You take my cock so well.” His eyes are riveted on the place where he penetrates you. 

Your eyes flutter shut as he reaches the end of you. Your blood feels as if it’s boiling in your veins, thick and viscous, “Thank you, daddy,” you sigh, “Thank you for giving it to me.”

You press the foot he has lifted in his grasp to his chest, dig your toes into the meat of his muscle. The size of it looks comically overwhelmed compared to the broad expanse of him. He starts to thrust slowly. His chest is flushed a deep red, sweat dampening the curls at his temples, misting the dips of his collarbones. His breathing is harsh and ragged, like it’s taking everything in him to be gentle, to go slow, to not fuck you brutal and savage the way he used to. “How’s that, baby?”

“So– so good,” you moan, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Please, please don’t stop,” you needlessly beg. 

He brings your extended leg between his thighs, gets a better, deeper angle and then he’s fucking up into you, right into the mouth of your womb. His big hand spans the swell of your belly and gently gently presses down so he’s putting pressure deep into your pelvis from the outside also. The two opposing directions overwhelming your center so a blinding hot spear of arousal is shooting right through the middle of you. You turn your head into the pillow beneath your head and wail, “Oh my God–”

“Yeah, I know–” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re gonna soak my cock. I can feel it– Fuckin’ gripping and milking me like a fist – Jesus fucking Christ.” He lets his head fall back on a moan. You can feel the jerking throb of his cock inside you, and the clenching pulse of your cunt pulls his own orgasm out of him so that you’re both falling over the edge at the same time. The wet squelch of your muscles sucking his come in deeper, pulling it into your already heavy womb. 

Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. 

He grinds his hips into you, pressing his spend deeper. He lets your lifted leg fall gently to the bed and leans down over you to press soft lingering kisses to your shoulder, your breast, your belly. He nuzzles there, drags his tongue over the stretched skin. “So gorgeous, full of my baby.” He moves to lay behind you, spooning you, never letting his cock slip from your spent cunt. His hands mold over your belly and you feel an impatient little kick to the palm he has pressed low on your pelvis. 

“She’s angry. Think we woke her–”

“She?” 

“Shit – wasn’t supposed to share our secret with you yet.” 

IS SUNDAE AND MOONPIE OKAY??

Long Long Night | Joel Miller Smut

summary: "I'm not done with you." or big dick joel miller fucks you hard

warnings: smut! Minors DNI, 18+ only!! penetrative sex, afab!reader, joel calls you baby, rough sex, slight weighted blanket joel <3, dirty talk. Just filth bc im so horny for this guy

a/n: My first joel smut!! It's not long sorry but i just wanted to test the waters and see if i can even write joel smut at all lol. Also I should probably post this tmr bc its late af here but oh well

"J-Joel.."

You moan loudly as his hands grip your hips tightly, his fingertips definitely leaving bruises as he slams your hips back into him.

"Quiet." He groans as he shoves your head into the pillows. Leaning until his hairy chest is against your back. His hips thrust hard against you making you wail.

"So big.." You whine as you claw the sheets.

You love when Joel is rough, when he lets go of all his worries in that pretty head of his and fucks you until the sun comes up. All he could do is smirk, push you against the thin walls of your shitty little apartment and whisper the filthiest things imaginable in your ear.

It's how you ended up on his bed, stripped of your clothes and being destroyed by his cock.

His hands lock with yours as he pushes them deep into the bed. His weight presses you down, forcing you to stay still as he pounds deep into you over and over again. His power and speed never faltering as he bites down hard on your shoulder to muffle his moans. Your hips squirm helplessly he hits a sweet spot. You try to tug your hands from his grip but he doesn't budge.

"Makin' you feel that good baby?" He smiles into your skin.

Your desperate moans only making him want to fuck you harder. His cock stretches your poor pussy with every thrust. Your cunt flutters around his cock as you come hard, you swear you can see stars as you go limp under him.

It becomes apparently very quickly that Joel has no plans on stopping. He sits up on his knees and holds your hips up so he can properly fuck you.

One of his rough fingers slipping down to play with your clit. You jerk out of his grip and lean forward out of instinct. The overstimulation bringing tears to your eyes.

"Fuck!" You cry as he grabs your hips and brings you back.

Sliding his dick in hard until his hips meet your ass. Giving you no time to breathe as he continues to fuck the breath out of you.

"I'm not done with you." He growls. Fucking hell that might be the hottest thing he's ever said to you.

Exhausted you fall onto the bed. Grabbing the pillow above you and burying your face in it as you let Joel use you like a toy. The obscene sounds of your wet cunt is music to his ears.

Leaning down he brushes your cheek softly, cooing in your ear as he slams his hips and stills. His cock throbbing as you squeeze around him.

"So pretty baby, just stay like this for me okay?" He kisses your forehead and you smile tiredly. His hands glide down your body and you sigh happily. Fucked out by his cock and ready for him to do whatever he pleases.

"Gonna fuck you all night long."