#needs must
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Raguel time (again) uwu
He's actually blind in his actual eyes in this form and can only see from the one in his mouth. It's purely for Judgment purposes and can only see one's identity, sin (of the deadly sins; only if applicable), offense (what got them into hell) or good deed(s), and basically everything that could ever make you you
Only to be used in the most dire cases
#doesnt use this much in limbo but ya know#needs must#sometimes you gotta see#to be used only if phanuel cant help#pepper's art#digital art#ibis paint x#fun fact: listened to 'little wolf' from epic on loop while drawing this#heavenly serpent au#hazbin hotel#raguel (hs au)#hazbin hotel ocs
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*Eats the gemstone.*
....
*stares.*
No, put that d--
*stares dumbfounded*
But I was going to use that in my next commission... *sigh* I'll go get the activated charcoal.

#ask ethari#Usually I only feed activated charcoal to the mounts after they eat something harmful but#needs must#now I'm sad that my gemstone is gone :(#hopefully it'll still be nice when I get it back. might need some cleaning and polishing though
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Needs must.
Voltageâgive us Tino! Itâs beenâŠliterally half a year since Tino had an event.
#court of darkness#voltage games#out of context screenshots#tino maes#justice for Tino#needs must#voltage inc
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felt like i needed to visually convey what i've been doing the last few days now that it's turning into summer.
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you know the stress levels are high when i want to smoke one of my 'emergency' cigarillo and the cold sore makes its dreaded appearance..... đ
#kit's#diary#haven't had a cold sore in like a year#i had not missed them#and the emergency cigarillo are really emergency ones#last one i smoked was just before i moved in this flat 1 1/2 years ago#and not counting the stressful homeless 1 1/2 year where i smoked slightly more regularly#like maybe once or twice a month#i hadn't smoked in years#so yeah#really emergency ones#like a security blanket#not the most healthy of one#but eh#needs must
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back to galeposting i rlly wanna romance him with a bladesinger when patch 8 comes out
#wizardry AND the arts?#a winning combination for gale dekarios#genuinely i love that he is so enthusiastic about#essentially fantasy compsci#but then he also talks a lot about poetry and music and he specializes in illusion#ellery is very intellectual but less of an arts guy i wanna make an arts guy for him. or arts woman???? i'd like to romance him as a man bu#needs must#ellery is the only guy i've ever made
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So sometimes I get little reminders that I'm indeed perceptible, even memorable, by the people I pass by in the street. Like when the host girl at this random resteraunt that had reasonably priced oysters said 'welcome back' after I changed my hair, outfit, jacket, and mask to return for a last-minute reservation. And then I go to the quiet booth at the vintage fest and I haggle a price for an old top down from $10, I go to the bathroom to try on the top, and then I come back, agreeing to buy it. I hand over my card to the person I spent a few minutes negotiating with. I take back the card and the top and I walk away. Oh, wait! My phone alert says I approved $10 on my card. Lady says, 'Oh, I forgot but no refunds.' I'm left scratching my head and wondering if disputing my charge would make me too memorable to this person.
#needs must#i just learned to bargain last weekend from some girl i met#I'm too sensitive for this but I'll get stronger#definitely bringing cash next time
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Galinda, what are you doing? Stop. No.
#wickededit#wicked#gelphie#filmedit#femslash#wicked: part 1#elphaba thropp#glinda upland#cynthia erivo#ariana grande#//#sine's gifs#sorry for the bad quality but needs must atm#larger gifs in a few months i suppose
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Gojo x Deadpool đ«đ«đ«


Art by: akutawah
#lord forgive me#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fanart#jjk art#i need him#need that#i must be ovulating
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laundry day
#one piece#sanji#trafalgar law#do luffy and zoro not wear underwear? or do they just not wash it#brook and chopper are excused bc they dont need to#brook must be very happy on the sunny tho. probably loves watching sanji do laundry#the whole punk hazard to zou arc amuses me because⊠is sanji handling kinâemon kanjuro momo and laws laundry too
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How fandom portrays Tim's first months as Robin:
Tim: Batman, it's time for your anti-depressants.
Bruce: *grumbles*
Tim: Speak louder.
Bruce: Go away Jason.
Tim: It's Tim, actually.
Bruce: GO AWAY.
How it actually was in the Batman comics:
Tim: How did my report card got on your fridge?
Bruce: I took a look at your grades, and they were great, why? Except for chemistry. Maybe you should not go out as Robin to focus on school.
Tim: Not happening. I'm not falling for that.
Bruce: Well, if you are really going to do this, we should add bubble wrap to the suit.
Tim: I'm not made of glass.
Bruce: Are you sure about that? By the way, do you eat enough? ALFRED, can you cook something for Tim? He needs some food.
Tim: I'm fine Bruce!
Bruce: Are you sure? Do you want a hug? If you want a hug, you can ask. I can have Alfred make some hot chocolate.
Tim: You realize I have parents, rights?
Bruce: I don't see them in this room.
#bruce wayne#batman#tim drake#robin#alfred pennyworth#batfam#dc comics#my ramblings#they said âhe needs a kid to take care ofâ and they were right#he is actually sweet with Tim he is really just need a baby to be better#Tim isn't taking care of his mental health he just has to show up and let Bruce do his thing#he keeps hugging Tim and touching him to reassure him and telling him to stay safe#It must have been overwhelming for Tim to get so much affection when his parents barely interract with him#And Bruce checks Tim's grades THAT'S NOT YOUR KID BRUCE#and Tim is straight up living in the manor when his parents are away#and Bruce bringing him hot chocolate when he is scared about his parents#Bruce âI don't need grief counseling I need a childâ Wayne
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I love when he comes to the rescue! Poor kid never stood a chance...& they're so devoted to each other, & the sexy butt stuff. Oooh, I loved this!
Mine
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: Explicit, 18+ Word Count: 4k Content Warnings: anal, ass play, rimming and oral (f-receiving), spit as lube, threatened violence against the reader (not by Joel), canon-typical violence Notes: Endless gratitude to both @frannyzooey and @oscarseyebrow for the help, literally would not have finished this without you two gems xx

He wants itâhas wanted it.Â
He wants the claim. The utter possession.
Whenever he puts you on your hands and knees, Joel settles a splayed hand on your lower back, and it always slips down, his rough palm sliding further and further the more he loses himself in the pleasure. It drops along with the register of his groans and the steady slap of his hips. He lets his hand shift until his thumb is tucked between your cheeks. And when heâs grunting low and deep, about to pull out so he can comeâso he can paint himself in warm streaks across your skinâheâll press the pad of that finger firmly against your asshole.Â
Not inside, not yet. He doesnât go further than that.
Heâs waiting for you to say it. He wants to hear those words, begged so pretty and desperate in your breathy whine. He wants you to plead for it when you canât wait any more.
He wants you to tell him to fill you in the way he canâtâwonâtârisk with your pussy.
He wants you to ask him to make you his.
He dreams about it.
Please, Joel.
*** Youâve been waiting for him to say somethingâto act on it. You know he wants it.
Youâre used to Joel taking what he wants. Never forcefully, not with you. You revel in the privilege of being a singular exception in that wayâin being the one type of relationship left for him that isnât ruled by violence. When he wants something from you, he doesnât hesitate or hedge or waver. He just says it, lays it out.
Like that first time so many months ago when he fixed those serious brown eyes on youâon youâand said, âCome home with me.â
A statement, not a question. An invitation for you to take or leave.Â
Take.
This, for some reason, seems different though.
Heâs waiting on you to ask for it.
Itâs not some groundbreaking thing that precipitates it. What happens is wearily commonplace in the QZ.
A stupid kid, some nineteen year old with the power trip of a pistol in his hand, gets the jump on you. Youâre alone, and he sneaks up behind you in an alley.
The cold barrel is pressed to your temple before you can react.
âStay quiet,â he breathes, his hot breath reeking of alcohol next to your ear. It has the heady bite of too much ethanol, something he made cheap and easy.
You do mental calculations as he walks you to a brick wall, crowding you up against it until your cheek is pressed to the cool, rough surface. A groping hand reaches into your jacket pocket. He just wants your ration cards, and itâs probably easiest to let him take them and turn tail.
But then he steps back, the steel of the gun moving to press between your shoulder blades, and you can feel the rake of his eyes down your body.
âWell, youâre pretty, arenât you?â
Your gut fills with lead. The air in your lungs tightens as his intentions shift. Youâre about to move, to reach for the switchblade in your inner pocket when thereâs a yelpâthe pressure of the gun disappearing from your backâthe scuffling feet on asphalt and a low gruntâ
You turn, and Joel has the guy hauled up against a half-collapsed chain-link fence, his cheek pressed into a tangled coil of barbed wire. He disarmed him in the same movement, the butt of the pistol visible over the waistband of Joelâs jeans, holstered at his lower back.
Joel, who had come looking for you when you ran late.
He seems perfectly calm when he meets your gaze, but you know the tightness in his shoulders, that muted threat in his blown pupils. Heâs agitated. Uneasy. Mad at himself that you were alone. You catch it when his eyes flick down and up again, surveying your body for injury.
âYes or no?â he asks.
You consider for a moment, appreciating the raw fear in the young guyâs eyesâhow quickly Joel turned him from a predator to a shifty-eyed, skittery little rabbit. His breathing is a shallow, frantic pant.
âNo,â you decide.
Joel nods and shoves him away, and the kid stumbles. When he glances back over his shoulder, you can see fat tears of blood oozing from the shallow cuts below his eye. Heâs too shocked to speak, to do anything. He just staggers into a run and disappears.
Your eyes slide back to Joel, and something clicks into place as you watch each otherâyou realize just how utterly and completely he has you. That heâd burn the world for you if you asked. And youâd do the same for him.
He approaches you with quiet steps. A warm hand settles on your waist.
âAlright?â he asks, looking down at you, his thumb stroking the cotton of your shirt.Â
Tension is a precarious, taut thing between you, like a spring-loaded trap ready to bite.
You nod and say, âTake me home.â
*** His apartment is flooded with afternoon sun. Golden beams of light streaming in between the half-closed curtains are shot with suspended motes of dust. Everything always feels still within these walls, like he really can shut out the rest of the world when he closes the heavy door behind him.
Heâs on you as soon as he does, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and his mouth on yours as he guides you backward toward the bed.
You both need the reassurance of touch.
You need more than that: you want him to accept the control you're offering with willing hands and take.
As you move together, you let the lingering hum of adrenaline in your bloodstream pull the wordsâthe ones that might have otherwise gotten stuck in your throatâout of your mouth.Â
You whisper against his lips: âI want you to fuck my ass.â
He goes rigid for a moment, his breath a pant against your lips, and then he dips his head to your ear.Â
His voice is something else entirely nowâno more veiled fear behind his rasp, just a honeyed growl of pure desire: âSay it again.â
You bury your face against the hollow of his throat and smile.
âGo on, I want to hear it.â
You squirm and slip a hand into the back pocket of his jeans.
âBe a good girl and say it for me,â he prods, dragging the tip of his nose up your cheek. He slips his hand down your back and over the swell of your ass, pulling your hips forward into his, and squeezes.Â
You give him what he wants, what you both want: âI want you to fuck my ass.â
He hums his approval and takes a long, slow inhale to savor the thought of it. Heâs just as pleased as youâd hoped heâd be. More, maybe.
He moves his hand inward, tracing the middle seam of your jeans with a light touch.
âThat right? You gonna let me in here?âÂ
His voice is smug, a cocky drawl, but when you look up into his eyes, thereâs a hint of desperation skulking behind his dilated pupils, like heâs not quite sure what heâd do if you said no. Like he needs you to want it.Â
âI know you want it,â he says, his breath hitching. He tries to convince you, even though you are already wonâwere won, long ago. âI feel the way you press back against me, just begging for itâI see how quick you come on my cock when I touch you right here.âÂ
You press a kiss to the taut lines of his neck. Heâs right.
He slips his hand down the back of your thigh and hitches your leg up, rolling his hips against you. Once.
âYou gonna let me come inside your tight little ass?â
Twice.
You lean away to brush a hand over his crotch, over his fly where you can feel the thick roll of him straining against the denim, and nod up at him. Joelâs gaze is barbed with desire, with a heat so tangible it burns.
*** He lays you out on his bed, strips you bare, and kneels over you. His shirt is quickly discarded on the floor, his belt buckle left open. His lips pull to the side in a casual smile as he looks down at youâsurveying the luxurious lines of your body on display for himâbut thereâs a feral glint of need in his dark eyes as he settles into a familiar position over you, his hips caught between your spread thighs.Â
You reach up to run a hand through his silver-flecked hair.Â
Joel sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, and when he pulls them out, he leans down to kiss you just as he slips those two shiny, spit-soaked fingers down between your thighs, past where he usually settles them, until he finds that tight ring of muscle. He groans at first contact, pressing lightly, testing the resistance.Â
Heâs eager. Getting right to it. Your body is tense with the newness of itâwith anticipation, with wantâbut you know he wonât rush it. You trust him to set the pace.
âRelax for me, honey,â he murmurs against your lips.Â
The low, husky twang in his command is like a sedative. In and outside his bedroom. Itâs easy to surrender to someone who never lets you downâto someone who protects you with bared teeth, white knuckles, and no quarter.
His mouth claims yours again, his tongue dipping past your teeth. Joel asks for a lot when he kisses youâalways has. He takes a lot. Itâs deep and needy. Possessive. The scratch of his facial hair against your skin is familiar, the smell of him overwhelming when heâs so close.
Clean laundry, warm sun, a light hint of sweat from working outside. Joel.
He kisses down your neck with an open mouth, cloying and distracting, as he massages his wet fingers over your asshole.Â
He teases. Pets. Coaxes. All the while, his mouth does the sameâon your throat, your chest, your breasts. Hungry and wanting. Joel moves at a leisurely pace, dropping himself down to nip at your ear lobe, pinching and rolling your nipple with his other fingers.Â
Heâs working you up, making you ask for it, and itâs effective.
When you start to writhe and whine, he finally shuffles down your body and takes up his rightful place with his head between your splayed thighs. Â
Joel watches you when he goes down on you, his eyes flicking up to your face and back down to where youâre aching for himâconstantly. Always assessing. Studying. Devouring. Gauging how hard or how easy to push you.
He spreads you open and dips his head to lick your clit with the broad sweep of his tongue, taking you apart as he works you open. Heâs well-practiced in the art of dismantling you.
He gradually increases the pressureâof his tongue and his fingerâratcheting up the pleasure, until your legs are shaking around his ears. Until one of your hands is fisted in his short, thick hair. Until youâre canting your hips up and up and up to fuck yourself against his face.
You drag your arm over your eyes, overcomeâ
Joel looks upâhis hot mouth leaving you coldâand tsks, pulling your arm away from your face. âLet me see you.â
His lips shine with your arousal.
Your stalled pleasure has your mouth dropped open, but Joel resumes the steady sweep of his tongue and the firm press of his nose against your mound right away, catching you midair and dragging you right back to the brink of an orgasm. Your heels slip down the sheets, your head pressing back into the pillow as you moan and ride it out.
Joel grunts when he feels it, when it spreads through your veins like lightning.
You meet his eyes as you pant through the aftermathâhis brow is creased deeply, his lips parted just a little when he pulls away, his breath barely audibleâand while youâre mellow and unwound, he presses his finger inside. He squeezes his eyes shut against the pleasure, reveling in the warm pull of your body, and you arch. A heavy hand settles on your chest.
âEasy,â he says, his voice low, âeasy now.â
He waits for your muscles to relax, for you to give him an encouraging nod, and he works that finger a little deeper in your ass, thrusting it shallowly. He can feel your body responding to itâacclimating to, asking for it.
âTurn over for me,â he says, his voice even gruffer than normal. âGet on your hands and knees so I can see it.â
You flip for him, situating yourself on your elbows. The bed creaks as he slips off it behind you. Thereâs the metal sound of a zipper and the rustle of denim, and then the mattress dips again as he settles behind you.
He leans down to purse his lips and spit. It drips, warm and wet as it slides between your cheeks, and he catches it with two fingers, smearing it over where heâs started working you open, where you feel warm and ready for him, invitingâwhere you glisten with it. You expect him to press one inside you again, but instead, he leans down and his tongue takes it place.
Your hips jerk forward reflexively at the foreign feeling, at the press of the wet muscle against sensitive skin, but as soon as your mind catches up, you shift back to chase the sensation, that warm, slick slideâthe welcoming heat of his mouth. A series of sloppy kisses, wet and open.
Joelâs hands spread you as he tastes you. He licks and laps, his tongue exploring every inch of your puckered rim, and the feeling unfurls over your skin slowlyâhot and syrupy and decadentâdispatching a delayed shiver down your spine. The pleasure crackles and spits, your nerves a circuit of live wires.
You moan into the feeling, letting your body arch, and shove yourself against the fervor of his mouth. You wonder why you didnât ask himâbeg himâfor this sooner.Â
Itâs brief. He wants to stay thereâyou can tell by the low sound he makes against your body, the sound that deepens when you push back against his mouth, so deep it vibratesâbut heâs impatient.
Impatient to be inside you.
He spits again, another rush of warmth, and pulls away to say: âTouch yourself, honey.â
You obey, settling a cheek on his pillow, one hand between your legs. His first finger returns. A second one joins it, and you whine at the stretch when he edges them inside.
âI knowâI know itâs tight, baby.â
He soothes you with a heavy hand on your back, rubbing it up and down your spine reassuringly.
âI got you.â
He spits one more time, a generous, wet lubricant for his thrusting fingers. He collects the moisture and presses them deep.
You can feel his lips on the back of your thigh, his tongue and the scrape of his teeth. He moves up, working his mouth gently over the curve of your cheek. His hand smooths over your hip, the other working his fingers deeper in a slow rhythm, the movements careful and fluid. He wonât give you more than you can handle.Â
You feel full with just his fingers moving inside you, but when you start to move your own fingers over your clit, you find that the fullness feels good.
He answers your pleased sounds: curling and stroking you from the inside out. His fingers scissor and stretch.
His other hand leaves your body, and you can hear him fisting his cock behind youâpausing to spit into his waiting palm and slick it over himself. You know exactly what that looks like, the storm of desire brewing in his dark eyes and the roll of his muscular shoulder as he pumps himself. A pearl of precum likely glistens along his slit, disappearing as his shaft is swallowed by the circle of his fist.
The image of him, one youâve seen countless times, never fails to arouse you.
The command, the intentionâthe intoxicating need.Â
In the beginning, you had to look away from it. It was too naked, too vulnerableâit was the only time Joel would drop the front and let himself be more than just leashed rage. The only time heâd cut the tether and let himself want what he wantsâlet it show on his face, stark as day.
Now, you live for it. You recognize it for the rare, precious gift it is.
You canât help but peer over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of that furrowed brow and taut neck. That is the Joel who loves with his whole chest. Who loves with teeth.
He looks up from where his hand is moving to meet your gaze. He eases those two fingers out of you, and you whimper at the loss.
He moves closer behind you, his broad frame looming tall over you, and settles. Your legs are spread as wide as they go in this position, his bracketed between them.
âIâll go slow, yeah?âÂ
You press your cheek back into the pillow and breathe.Â
You can feel the fat head of him notched against you, the heat and the slickness, where youâre drenched and shiny. He drops his hips and rubs the tip up and down, once and again. The anticipationâthe knowledge of his sizeâhas you tensing, but he pets your hips and talks you through it.
âRelax and let me in.â
Joel eases his hips forward, and as much as heâs prepared you, as much as heâs coaxed your body open to accommodate his fingers, the stretch of him still burns. Heâs been so careful, taken such good care of you, but the size of him aches. You canât help but squirm, a whine spilling from your lips, as he enters you.
He reacts to your hesitation right away.
âDrop your hips for me,â he says, a heavy hand on your lower back.
He guides you down, and you all but collapse, almost prone on the mattress. He blankets your body with his own, his warm chest and the softness of his belly flush against your back, and reaches around you, snaking a hand into the few inches of space between your hips and the bed, to massage your clit with the pacifying rock of one fingerâto where your hand had been a second ago, before it dropped away to fist in the sheets.Â
Heâs heavy draped over you, his body a grounding weight. If it werenât himâif you didnât have that steel-cast trust between you, it might feel smothering. This prostrate position, vulnerable.
Instead, safe.Â
He breathes hot and slow down the side of your neck then sets his teeth against your shoulder, a blunt biteânot hard enough to hurt but hard enough to mute all other sensation, just a little.Â
Heâs giving you something to hold on to.Â
He murmurs praise between light, plush kisses and little nips, as the blunt tip of his cock slowlyâso slowlyâbreaches the tight ring of your ass.
You key into the wordsâhoney, baby, sweetheartâand the hot trail of his mouth. And breathe, slow and steady, to let your body welcome him deep.
When his hips are cradling your cheeks, he stills.
Youâre full; youâre so fucking full.Â
Itâs almost unbearable in sensation. The thick, rigid length of him is throbbing inside you. You needâyou need somethingâ
Your thoughts are slow, eddying and pinwheeling like curls of smoke that refuse to coalesce into something tangible.Â
His finger is still pressed tight to your clit, and as you settle together, you adjust. A realization creeps up the back of your neck, shy. Move, you think, the link between your brain and your mouth suddenly faulty. You need him to move.
You arch and start to shift back into him, to encourage him to fuck you.
Joel growls in your ear, the hand between your legs jumping to your throat. âStay still for me. Justâstay still, alright? Let meââÂ
You tense with the effort of it, all of your muscles tightening, contracting around the thick intrusion of him, and his words are cut short by a low groan and the subtle flex of his hips forward. The movement draws a whimper from your throatâa pleased sound.
Itâs taking all his control not to move, not to thrust into the tight, molten clench of your body.Â
âLet meâlet me just feel you like this for a minute,â he finishes. His voice cracks with the effort of staying still. The hand caught around your throat trembles and tightens.Â
Heâs savoring it. Savoring you.
And trying not to let the exquisite grip of your body undo him too soon. Itâs dizzying, knowing that.
He shifts back a bit, braced on a locked elbow by your side, so he can see where heâs splitting you open, and runs a reverent hand along your curves, up your thigh and over your hipâa rough, calloused palm turned tender in the moment. His breathing is labored.
You peer at him over your shoulder, your neck straining. His mouth is dropped open, his tongue peeking out between his lips, and his eyes are hooded. They flick down to meet yours.Â
Understanding passes between you.
He drops himself over you again, and his hand finds a home on your shoulder, holding fast. Then he eases his hips back, gently withdrawing before starting up a slow cadence. Testing.
You moan when he thrusts forward, and his own low sound matches yours. His hips start to move faster, his thighs colliding with the backs of yours.
âYou gonna come with my cock in your ass?â
You nod against the fabric of his pillow case, your hand returning to the apex of your thighs. It doesnât take muchâa few moments of gentle fingers passing over your aching clit, and all of your muscles are tightening.
âFuck, yes,â he growls. âLet me feel it.â
His rhythm kicks up to a rapid slap slap slap of skin against skin, as you spasm and quiver against the bed, your open, panting mouth leaving a wet spot on the cotton. You clench around the crowded feeling of him until your brain is fuzzy with a haze of pleasure. Until your limbs go completely slack.
âYouâre taking it so good for me. So fuckinâ tight.â
You feel sated and warm in the aftermath, your body fucked out and sluggish. You can tell Joel is close by the uneven staccato of his thrusts and the tightness in his voice.
âOh fuck, baby,â he pants. âYouâre gonna make me comeâmake me fill this tight little ass.â
You moanâwaiting for it, wanting it.Â
But he wants to hear it first.
âIs that what you want? Hmm? Say it,â he demands, his words punctuated by the surge of his hips and the press of his thighs. âTell me where you want me to come.â
You barely manage to get the words out, twisted in your raw throatâ
âPlease, Joelâinside.â
âbefore he does.
The sound he makes is low and feral, a gasp and a growl clawing their way out of his chest. He grinds himself deep into the tight heat of your body, his hips stuttering in sheer relief, and his cock twitches as he spills inside you. A flood of warmth, pulses of pearly cum fucked deep.
Again and again, until heâs spent.
He pulls out, leaving you empty. You know he wants to see it.
Sure enough, he thumbs between your cheeks, admiring the place where heâs marked youâfeeling the sticky warmth of himself in your body. Like heâs always wanted to.
After a long moment, he collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his side.Â
âCome here,â he says, gathering you up in his arms. He presses a kiss to your forehead and swipes soft fingers over your cheek. Youâre boneless in his hands.
He doesnât say it, but you know.Â
Mine.
#no lube in the qz#needs must#i love this#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#joel miller tlou#tlou fanfic#fanfic rec#fanfic blog#reblogging is love
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growing up!
#FALLS TO THE FLOOR!!!!#so shocking news: the silver artbook actually killed me a little. this is the first finished pic ive made since#wow isnt it crazy that 26 completed illustrations would kinda take it outta ya. bananas. i need to Not do a full bg again for a minute#i had the stupid thought like 'oohhgh i could do a series of silver and lilia as hes growing up!!' im HITTING ME!!! NO MORE SERIES!!!#I CAN DO NON-RELATED PICS OF THAT IF I MUST!!! THE PRESSURE OF A SERIES IS TOO TIRING RN!!!!#my life is a whirlwind i JUST moved and now might need to move again bc id make a ton more#im trying to sell my house and its going very poorly. im doing well at work. ID HAFTA MOVE ACROSS THE COUNTRY AGAIN#ID BE BACK NOOOORTH id go to pennsylvania <3 im from new york so the thought of being closer to my mom is rly nice#and i have friends there both from high school and ohiiiio and new england etc etc!!!! YAY!!!#twst#twisted wonderland#twst silver#lilia vanrouge#suntails#did u miss this. be honest. when i vanish for months at a time do u miss the rambling life updates. theyre who i am
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i wish I could participate in the ask game for Steve and the mermaid. Because they are so cute and weird, and I know deep down he is feeling SOME KINDA WAY about her. I think that would be kinda difficult but I guess I could settle for ever single letter for It had to be you Steve. lol
I'm going to opt in for both, but those will be split up because I'm not sure two universes could be more different. đ€
You'll have W - Water for Sun, Salt, and Shield Steve x mermaid!reader (in which I'll be able to just headcanon that smut I've not been able to figure out how to write any other way) and C - Crying for CEO!Steve (for an earworm that just now burrowed in and started reeking havoc) to look forward to!
Perhaps....not within the next day or so though. Sorry.
Thank you for asking!
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not a single brain cell on this ship
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing fanart#jimmy mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#captain curly#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#catfood art#simple line up to figure out how i wanna draw them#need to finish my faith lineup too.... the world must look at my tiffany design forevr and evr
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