#racist miller
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First they'll come for the Puerto Ricans. Then they'll come for the immigrants. Then they'll come for the Muslims. Then they'll come for the Jews. Then they'll come for you!
#Racism#Racists#Xenophobes#Xenophobic#Hitler#America#Americans#Germany#Germans#ManChildTrump#Donald Trump#Trump#convicted#felon#Mango Mussolini#Pumpkin Spice Palpatine#Cadet Bone Spurs#Five Deferment Don#Puerto Rico#Stephen Miller#Immigrants#immigration#Muslims#Muslim#Islam#Jews#Jewish
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Humor is a coping mechanism for horror and pain, I would not shame anyone indulging in it. However, inspired by Brad Onishi of Straight White American Jesus, I would ask that people chuckling at Trump ranting about Haitians eating pets be mindful of the deep history of dehumanizing people who some would like to rationalize behavior towards that would be immoral and savage if it was directed against a “real” person. It’s not just a stupid thing the right has fallen for because of bad media literacy, it’s a belief they are actively choosing against all evidence to the contrary because they want an ex post facto reason to justify treating “dog eaters” like they are lower and less deserving of dignity and safety than a stray dog.
#Bradley onishi#Dan miller#straight white American Jesus#racism#antiblackness#anti asian hate#eating the dogs#eating the pets#eating the cats#donald trump#kamala harris#election 2024#Springfield#springfield ohio#disinformation#racist conspiracies#great replacement theory
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What is going on?
The Afterparty - Season 2, Episode 8
Mr. Feng
Created by Christopher Miller
Blackram Hall: whodunit, murder mystery, hardboiled, pulp, crime, thriller, italian giallo, noir and neo-noir, detectives and serial killers, spy stories, vintage, manor houses, art, life and death.
Avatar pic by Mitchell Turek
#HENRY FORD.#HARD-CORE RACIST.#Chris Miller#Christopher Miller#the Afterparty#detective stories#murder mystery#Tiffany Haddish#Sam Richardson#Zoë Chao#Elizabeth Perkins#Zach Woods#Paul Walter Hauser#Poppy Liu#Anna Konkle#Jack Whitehall#Vivian Wu#John Cho#Ken Jeong#bao bing#apple tv+
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Does Kazuhira Miller actually regret his life choices at all? I haven't finished MGSV, but after that he throws himself right back into working for a military with Foxhound, right? Im just not sure he in any way disagrees with Big Boss or what he personally accomplished with MSF and Diamond Dogs. I think Kaz calling Big Boss a monster in MG2 might mostly just be about being personally upset about being betrayed. I'm not convinced he actually ever becomes a better person.
#mgs#metal gear solid#kazuhira miller#i guess it's the child soldiers? Venom seems pretty up for sending them out lol it's Kaz who objects#but. i think that he would have been an excellent minister of economics in big boss' anti racist military dictatorship#if big boss had let him.
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I just found out who Scarlet O’Hara is, and Omg if I had a white mom and she dressed up as slave owner. I’d not only be upset about it but I’d also wonder if my mom even liked me let alone loved me.
Cause what the fuck?
Why would you think that would be okay?
A slave owner. That’s actually so insane.
#gone with the wind#slave owner#I’d be depressed as well#black people with white moms have it rough#ginny and georgia#ginny miller#georgia miller#like damn#She’s just laughing about it like ha ha “I’ll burn the costume” like it’s not a big deal#for people that wanna play dump dressing up as a slave owner makes it seem like your mocking black people#or like yeah what she did was horrible and I’d never but she was so pretty#like what the actual fuck#you can dress up old and timely without being racist
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every popular male comic author who i hate will have leagues of fans who are like omg u just read his REALLY bad stuff the rest is better. it totally doesnt have the same problems as his bad stuff did. and then it in fact does
#well rape is more common than murder and so its not misogynistic i put it in there for most of#my female characters“ ”i as a white man can reclaim this antiblack character. because no one complained about the insanely racist asian +#stereotype in the same series so basically im innocent#twist rambles#looking right at ennis rn. but also like. every single fucking war ellis fan who is like omg hes sooo good at writing. i hate that man#but its very um. funny to me how people will be like gaiman is good at writing and then like? honestly his comics are kind of mediocre.#same shit with miller. why are we praising him for the dark knight. it is not good. like objectively. and EVERYTHING daniel way has put out#the wolverine stuff he did was SO bad and then i got well. 45 issues of him writing DP. it was not a good time. there is a solid chance i#hate a solid 50% or more of the popular male comic authors.#also. god sorry i will never get over alan moore. <- he said all this shit in an interview btw. insane.
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I'm not supposed to have a lot of opinions or very strong opinions on the oppression olympics scene but yall place the entire blame on hunter and that's not okay
#he was part of the problem#and he should've seen the fact that the teacher was racist asf#and he definitely should not have said the they make a whole white person together (like bro wtf)#BUT#his experiences aren't nothing and ginny had no right to say that he is not chinese enough#like#none of them should've tried to stereotype the other and say that they aren't asian or black enough#but hunter should not be the only one getting blamed for doing that#hunter chen#ginny miller#georgia miller#oppression olympics#ginny and georgia check one check other#ginny and georgia season 1#ginny and georgia s1#ginny and georgia s1 e8#ginny and gerogia s1 ep8#ginny and georgia#check one check other
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Clasping my hands together in prayer and wishing The GamersTM weren't also fans of what i'm a fan of
#jay talkin#the pain of being a fan of a specific character who has so many things that The Gamers are Fucking stupid about#constant cinema-sins esque gotchas abt stuff that they think they r so smart for pointing out#when in fact they are being so facking dumb. do u know my pain as a kazuhira miller liker#everyday The Gamers do a 'gotcha' of 'oh he couldnt do that he's blind'#do we need to talk about how uncomfortable that is to hear parroted around#do we need to have a talk about the wide range of sight loss covered under the diagnosises that get you labelled Legally blind.#do we need to talk about the fact being blind does not always = total 100% sight loss.#do we need to talk about Being Normal about a disabled man for once in our miserable lives.#also you can't tell him what to do thats hellmaster fucking miller are you kidding me.#also had to bear witness to people callong him a weeb for being called Kazuhira....#my brother in christ how are you gonna act like you know shit abt what yr talking abt#when you don't know that kazuhira fuckin miller is a whole ass japanese man with a backstory#that involves the discrimination and xenophobia he faced as a man who looks like he does#a WEEB? A WEEB?? HES FROM. JAPAN.#oh no way the guy from japan has a japanese name? must be weeb shit guys bc our lil racist addled brains#cant understand that japan is a country outside of our commodification of it bc we r less smart than a bird#WHEEZE. SORRY. I GOT MAD AGAIN FOR A MOMENT. anyway.#GamersTM are insufferable and lack the media literacy to actually be metal gear fans so i wish they'd Go Away#putting metal gear but especially kazuhira miller up on a shelf till you guys can learn to behave
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Oh my god! First Johnathan Majors, now Tenoch Huerta?!
#this is some bullshit#and annoying#I've had to do some clean up recently because of this!#Racists are gonna weaponize this shit!#Justice for the victims if the allegations are true!#Cause I've been seeing that this is really fucking serious!#But Jesus Christ! GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!!!!#marvel#hey feige! What are you doing?!#Also#WHY THE FUCK DOES ERZA MILLER STILL HAVE THEIR MOVIE GETTING PUBLISH?!#THEY KIDNAPPED SOMEONE!!!
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EXCUSE YOU! HE IS STILL A SEXYMAN! 👀
He may have old, smug bastard man with a receding hairline BUT HE IS STILL A SEXY ONE AT THAT!
Props to Blumhouse for not making William the suave Tumblr Sexyman that everyone sees him as in fanon but instead this sad old man with a receding hairline
#matthew lillard#william afton#fnaf movie#jokes aside i hate that racist purple man some brat made and the ugly dave miller one made by pinkypills#Blumhouse and Scott know what they're doing when putting Matthew in the movie and becoming William Afton#our man is theatrical drama queen with flare#smooch the old man with receding hairline plz#he deserves it <3
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One thing Nico Parker is going to do is absolutely kill it in live action adaptations that loyally adapt their source material because they were created by the original creators.
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Idk if this is an unpopular take but my god modern batman is SO bad and abysmal
#twist rambles#i choose to blame frank miller. due to the horrors of the dark knight. but also bc like. NOTHING thats modern batman seems promising#like irt last rb but also court of owls stuff bc. well. Batman authors try not to be racist or antisemitic challenge FAILED#like its wild to me bc im not even post new 52 in my batman Chrono bc it is ALL so bad rn that i have no motivation to continue.#millers writing is just like. that bad. that it makes me not even remotely want to read any batman stuff bc he literally just tossed the old#bat characterization out the window and was just like ok. make him edgy and a fascist. is it clear i hate miller yet.#which tbh I feel this sort of thing happens w popular characters a lot of like as more time goes on the worse the writing gets. which is why#i prefer smaller/lesser known characters a lot of the time. the harley chrono was a hell unlike anything else.
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every time i see jeph loeb selina i end up wanting to tear my hair out...
#okay some context: a) i do not like jeph loeb for reasons outside of his selina characterization. for one he's racist af. look up#jeph loeb sinophobia. like he's horrid.#b) that being said aside from the selina characterization i do not mind tlh or dv all that much. i'd never rec them without mentioning the#above because oh my god fuck jeph loeb & it's a very pirate only situation. but it's sort of akin to how batman y1 is treated irt to frank#miller if you get what i mean.#c) however i am a newell!selina bitch first & foremost & the way that he just. utterly ignores everything newell set up in v.1 says a lot#to me.#& w those stories loeb very clearly just. does not view selina as her own character. she is only present in the story through her#connections to the men within it. the only motives we are presented with for her character are ones pertaining to those men. she lacks#any real independent drive. moreover she lacks any of the bite or complex emotionality of her prior characterization in her post-crisis#incarnation. the nuanced relationship with right & wrong as social constructs her own morality and what justice looked like to her#along with what she felt obligated to do irt to ennacting it is utterly absent.#it's just boring. it's boring & unoriginal & misogynistic. there's nothing unique to selina about it.#(mind you i have not read when in rome. not sure i want to but i might for posterity.)#it's trite.#anti jeph loeb#dc#selina kyle#gothamverse
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What are some screwball comedy pairings you wish had been a thing? Can definitely be gay ones :)
Okay finally!
One of the reasons I made this blog in the first place is that few things bring me as much blinding rage as imagining the movies we could have gotten, if old Hollywood had stopped being racist/homophobic/anti-everyone for ten fucking seconds. There were so many talented hotties working through our tournament era who only got cameo spots or no-budget movies! for no reason beyond white supremacy! there were so many stories that didn't get told because heaven forbid we acknowledge gay people! If this blog has a mission statement, a big chunk of it would be about highlighting all the amazing hotties who never got what they deserved in their heyday.
So! Let's tear Louis B. Mayer a new one and make some better movies.
Diamond Eyes (1946)
Harold Nicholas, the bored but fabulous son of a Manhattan millionaire, decides to take himself off on a transatlantic cruise to recover from the boredoms of socialites, constant martinis, and west side glamor. When working girl Rita Hayworth snags him into a fake dating scheme to throw off a jealous ex (Cesar Romero), he doesn't mean to fall in love with his false fiancé—or to set the ex up with his scheming accountant (Tyrone Power).
To the Tune of Millions (1945)
Ann Miller and Lena Horne are conwomen besties who use a fake dance act to get into casinos, which they then promptly rob. Unfortunately, an over-enthusiastic talent agent (Gene Kelly) sees the act and thinks they're legitimate, hiring them on the spot as the lead number in a newly opened but already failing musicale review. Who can they hustle at a theater that's barely bringing in a dime? The two ex-cons fall in love with show business, Kelly and Horne smooch at the grand finale, and Miller has an intense will-they-or-won't-they sparring relationship with the hot stage manager (Ethel Waters—and they will).
Untitled Three's-a-Crowd Film (1942)
Cary Grant, Jean Arthur, and Ronald Colman are running interference on a corrupt justice system while trying to keep up the act that they are all simply cohabitating in a shared AirBnB and definitely not falling in love with each other. Wait. This is actually The Talk of the Town. This movie actually exists and does veer this hard into polyamorous romance.
Tomatoes and Toast (1928)
Anna May Wong and Greta Garbo eat sandwiches for three hours. It's riveting.
One Soul, Two Bodies (1948)
Farley Granger and Vincent Price star as Alexander the Great and Hephaestion in this sword-and-sandals period piece. Though clearly made on a studio backlot with a budget of $3, the dashing romance grounds the chariot races and cardboard sword battle sequences.
Grand Central Station (1931)
Interconnected narratives of Josephine Baker, Joan Blondell, Dolores del Río, and Fredric March all vying for the last seat on the 5:45 train out to Poughkeepsie. When they realize they're jostling to sit next to the same sugar daddy who's been stringing all of them along, the four decide to unionize. Pre-code thrills; the four-in-a-bunk Pullman car scene remains notable for a reason.
I have more but I think I've gone a bit delirious.
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Tim Drake probably got into fights at school, but he didn't start the fights, he'd finish them. He'd also get away scott free.
People think that they can ruin the Drake's name with their kid getting into fights and causing problems, but no. They encourage him to do these.
Janet had a firm stance in her belief to have the upper hand, so he'd never get in trouble, because she'd blackmail and/or grill into the principal so hard they had to let him go and give the other kid(s) punishment.
Jack had one solid rule, don't start a fight, finish it, and always win. He enforced it by having occasional spars with Tim whenever he could and signed Tim up for all kinds of martial arts to make sure he knew how to fight.
Janet signed him up for whatever else extracurriculars he wanted(ballet, gymnastics, theater, art, vocal coaching, instruments, figure skating, track, etc.).
So just imagine, Tim Drake, publicly known to get into and win so many fights but with no prior context is seen as a trouble maker till they see how well behaved he is. They talk badly about him though, how much of a bad kid little Tim Drake who physically looks like his father but has the face and acts exactly like Janet when he speaks and leads.
And then his parents die and he doesn't cry. They think he's an even horrible kid for not caring about his parents' death even though he's torn.
And then he becomes a Wayne and his reputation, which only Alfred and Bruce know, brings the Wayne name down.
And then he becomes CEO of Wayne Enterprises and everyone expects him to be just like Bruce. What they don't expect is Janet Drake 2.0 when it comes to getting his way and the way he acts or Jack Drake 2.0 with his outstanding leadership and ideas and proposals and what not.
When the rest of the Waynes find out about his reputation, they don't believe it till they see it for themselves.
It's probably at a gala or some sorts. A socialite is being inherently racist towards Damian and talking about how bad of a kid he is. Tim is not standing for it.
"Oh I'm sorry!" he says just a but too loudly to get the attention if everyone in the place, "Would you care to finish that vile comment about my brother? That he was a what now."
"I do, in fact. Perhaps after everyone hears this you Waynes will do better to control that little devil and his unnatural brow-"
The socialite doesn't even get to finish his sentence when Tim karate chops their neck, making them choke(literally) in their own words.
"Oh what was that? Did someone who is actively cheating on their own wife with the underage heir of another company be racist towards my underage and tri-racial brother? Sorry? Did a pedophile defiling the 15 year old daughter of the Miller's family say my 11 year old brother's skin was the sign of the devil? Hm?"
No one says a word, even as they watch Tim twist his words and spill out every secret and dirty fact about the socialite.
They don't even stop him as they watch him beat the crap out of the person with out even trying when said person tries to throw hands with Timothey Jackson Drake, publicly known for getting into fights and winning as well as being graduated from every martial arts class in Gotham ever.
Police were involved, headlines were made, the Miller heir was no longer seen in public and her younger sibling was pronounced heir, and Tim Drake, not Wayne, got off without a scratch, repercussion, or warning.
Damian has never felt an older siblings' loving protection more than he did when he saw Tim grill that socialite. He s never felt more respect for the guy before. And suddenly Dick was lower on the sibling scale.
He was lower on the sibling scale for everyone. Good by #1 sibling Dick Grayson and hello Tim Drake.
Have a problem? Someone's mean or is picking a fight? Don't worry, Tim Drake's there.
Drake is more noticeable than Wayne when it comes to Tim, and everyone finds it out the hard way.
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Doin’ Time
Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI
Pairing: Corrections Officer Joel Miller x f inmate reader
Word count: 2.5k
Summary: you’re a client of the criminal justice system and you have a run in with CO Miller
Warnings: SMUT! PWP, Dub Con, hand cuffs, unethical pairing, PIV, rough oral, masturbation, dirty talk, night stick, kinda mean Joel, stuff like that. It’s prison sex. Don’t read this if anything about it may be triggering to you. Barely edited, not beta’d.
A word from the author: ACAB. Cops are class traitors and policing is inherently racist. Still gonna write prison smut though.
“Inmate 4-2-0-6-9! Against the wall!” He bellowed across the yard where you sat with a few of the girls from your block. You rolled your eyes with a groan and slowly stood, dragging your feet across the yard to where he stood, arms crossed and face hard. Last thing you needed was to get maced.
C.O. Miller was the most senior guard, which wasn’t saying much considering the revolving door of the run-down prison where you were remanded for the next 32 months. Nevertheless, he was basically in charge of the way things worked in your block. He had a big, jangling key ring on his thick, black belt and you could hear him before you saw him coming. This was a blessing and a curse. It gave you time to hide your cell phone, but after four months in cell block D, the sound of his keys also created something of a Pavlovian response.
“Tits on the wall and hands behind your back,” he barked at you. “And feet apart. Come on sweetheart. I know you know how to spread those legs.”
He was behind you now, big palm pressing you roughly against the brick wall that surrounded the yard. You didn’t speak. You let your hips do the talking, tilting forward to arch your back while he patted you down, running his night stick up the inside of one leg and down the other, with a stop in between to prod at the apex of your thighs. He stood close behind you, sliding his hands greedily around your waist.
“Got anything in here I need to know about?” He breathed into your ear as he slid his hands up under your beige top. He palmed your tits from behind and rolled his hips against your ass so you could feel his straining erection.
He pinched your nipples and dragged his nose against the side of your neck before stepping back.
“No bra. That’s a dress code violation.”
You couldn’t stop the smirk on your face when he pulled your hands behind you, snapping on handcuffs and letting you stroke his cock over his uniform pants.
He pulled you away from the wall and directed you back into the building, away from the prying eyes of the other girls who got to enjoy the rest of their time in the sunshine.
Miller nodded at a few other guards as you passed, and you winked at your friends in their cells and exaggerated your strut as they whistled and whooped when they saw who was walking you to ad-seg. It earned you a rough shake. “Knock it off.” He ordered. He’s no fun.
By the time you got to the heavy, windowless door leading to the familiar, bare cell known as “the hole” your pussy was slick and throbbing in anticipation.
He unlocked the door, took off the cuffs, and shoved you inside, leaving you alone in the stuffy six by nine room. You could hear the lock being turned, and footsteps receding. You waited and listened, still soaking your standard issue pants with your wet pussy.
You got tired of waiting. He hadn’t told you how long you were going to be in here, so you laid on the thin mattress on the floor and slipped your hand under your waistband. It was really the only reasonable way to pass the time when you were sent to the hole.
You stroked over your lips, feeling the mess you made, dipping your middle finger to collect more. You circled your clit, in no hurry because you had nothing but time. You thought of Crissy, your cellmate with the great tits. You thought of your last boyfriend, who could make you come like magic but who had probably narc’d on you. You thought of C.O. Miller. You thought of that night stick of his. You even thought of Tim.
Before you could get yourself off, the lock disengaged and the door creaked open once more. CO Miller stood in the doorway, taking up the whole of it with his imposing body and his serious face.
“You’re just in time,” you cooed teasingly.
“Shut up. Hands behind your back. Turn around,” his voice is low and gruff, and if he wasn’t hard as a rock you might think he was actually mad. He cuffed you again and shoved you against the cold concrete wall of your cell. He kissed your neck, the tenderness a stark contrast to the rough way he was treating you. He crowds you against the wall, covering your body with his. “You know I could write you a shot for rubbin’ one out in here. Got the whole room smellin’ like pussy.” His voice is husky and low. He’s teasing, you think. Masturbating isn’t really an infraction is it? You don’t have time to ask. His hand is shoved down the back of your baggy pants and into your soaked, prison-issue cotton underwear.
You wished you had some of your own panties to wear for him. You wish he could see you like you are when you’re not in this place. His eyes might bug out if he saw your sundresses and your lacy panties. Your strappy sandals, your makeup, your manicures. He doesn’t see it though. He sees a criminal. He sees someone he can take from. And you see someone who can make your stay a little more comfortable if you play it right.
You tilt your hips, rubbing your pussy against his thick fingers, and for a moment he lets you, humming into your hair. “Desperate little pussy. What’s the matter? None of the other girls eat pussy? You need it so bad you’ll let me at it?” You whine at the question, the vulgarity. The other girls do eat pussy. Some are really good at it, too. But as awful as Miller is, you just want him. He’s big and rugged and he’d be exactly your type outside of prison. You like your men a little older- greying, laugh lines, softer bellies, but still strong. He’s so handsome. His eyes are so dark, his lips are so soft looking, he’s got a nose with the most beautiful gentle curve. He has the sort of looks that belong in movies, not going to waste in a women’s prison.
He presses firmly against your wet lips with his whole hand, covering his palm and fingers in your wetness before shoving two fingers in without warning. It makes you gasp, makes you buck against him, seeking more. He flexes his wrist, fucking you on his fingers. It’s not enough, you can’t come like this, but the feeling of being stretched is incredible. “More,” you whine, “more please.”
“Yeah? You need more? Two big fingers ain’t enough?” You shake your head shyly, unable to look at his face, still unsure of the dynamic. You hear the rustle of his belt, of leather against fabric, your mouth waters and your cunt clenches. You know he’s big. The way he walks, the way he talks, the look in his eyes, they tell you he’s hung even if you hadn’t felt for yourself.
Your pants are pulled down to your ankles, along with your underwear. You can feel your slick smear down your thighs. You don’t dare speak, you just arch your back, ready to take him, ravenous for his cock. his warm hand pressed into your back, your chest against the wall again, and you stifle a whimper but what you feel prodding against your weeping entrance isn’t the fat, hot cock head you had hoped for. It was cold and hard and heavy, you recognized it immediately.
CO Miller slid the tip of it over your wet pussy lips, twisting it to coat the surface in shiny wetness, smirking when you tried to grind down onto it. Without warning or sentiment, Joel nudged his night stick inside you. It seemed made for the purpose, rounded at the end, phallic. You wondered how many women he’d fucked with it. It gave you a fucked up thrill. You rolled your hips, taking it deeper. “Yeah. Look at you. Fucking a night stick. Been without dick too long, huh?”
You nodded pathetically and looked at him from the corner of your eye, his eyes were dark and his hand was inside his unfastened pants, stroking himself slowly. He matched the tempo of his fist to the thrust of his night stick inside you. You moaned for him, you saw him snarl as he watched with narrowed eyes as his weapon slid in and out, coved in your slick. He moved it slowly, watching the way your delicate skin stretched around it.
And then it was gone. Pulled free and discarded, clattering on the floor. In an instant his cock was out and hanging between you, thick, throbbing, precum leaking from the blunt head. It was better than you imagined, and you’d imagined it a lot. He spun you around and shoved you down to your knees. You nearly lost your balance, unable to steady yourself with your hands behind your back. He caught your shoulder and steadied you, petting your hair and letting his hands roam over your cheeks and down your neck, thumb brushing over your lips.
��Open up. Wide. Come on.”
You relaxed your jaw as best you could and stuck out your tongue to lick at the tip of his cock. His precum was salty and warm on your tongue. He let you taste him, licking around his thick head messily, teasing for as long as he would let you. It wasn’t long. He held your head and guided himself inside, slow and steady until he got to the back of your throat, and then just a bit further before backing out. You focused on breathing, in and out through your nose when it wasn’t pressed into the rough hair above his cock. Above you he moaned. A deep, warbling sound of pleasure that made you gush.
You turned your eyes up to try to meet his, but they were shut tight. His head lolled back and forth as he fucked your face. His movements became shorter and rougher, your mouth watered, ready to swallow his load, to prove your value to him, to earn his favor. And if you got off on it too, well, all the better.
There was no chance. Instead of coming down your throat, he pulled out suddenly, smearing drool onto your cheek. “Lay down. There, on the mattress.”
You moved awkwardly with your hands behind your back and your ankles basically manacled in your pants. You walked on your knees and laid on your back, legs together in a futile attempt at modesty. Of course it didn’t matter, he was already there, pushing them apart, spreading them wide and taking a gluttonously long look at your wet sex. You throbbed so hard you thought he could surely see.
“Jesus Christ. Look at that. You always get this wet from sucking dick? You’re dripping all over the place.”
He pulled one bare foot and then the other from your pants, and pumped his cock in his thick fist while he taunted you, spitting into his hand for one last stroke before lining himself up with your begging hole.
“Just yours,” you lied, fawning over him until he chased the air out of you with the heft of his cock. Even when he stretched you beforehand, he was tremendous. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, or to compliment him any more. He bore into you with his weight and strength, driving you into the floor. The world went fuzzy and dim, his deep voice keeping you afloat.
“Little prison pussy can’t handle some dick? Huh? Get a little cock in ya and you can’t think straight any more?”
Miller held your face in one hand, squeezing your cheeks together until your lips parted. He kissed your chin, biting it without conviction, and spat onto your tongue before kissing you, all messy, his tongue tasting yours. You pant and moan for him, trying hard to lift your hips for more even as he pounded into you.
When you wrapped your legs around his waist he sat up, as if suddenly aware that what he’s doing is wrong.
“Don’t try anything,” he warned, and repositioned you.
Miller turned you half onto your side and pushed back into you. He held your still handcuffed wrists in one hand and squeezed the soft fat of your ass in the other while using your body,
“Fuck me, that’s a tight little pussy,” he gritted out, straddling your right thigh while the other was pushed up. He used you like a toy. He pushed and pulled you as he pleased. Your orgasm built slowly without any direct touch on your clit, throbbing and firm, all but forgotten by the man who filled your cunt completely.
Joel loved watching the shiny wet slide of his cock in and out of your pussy. Your body gripped and pulled him, soaked him and squeezed him just right. His eyes flitted from where he drove into you to your tits, bouncing with each thrust and then back.
Your release was like a ripple spreading outward from your center. It pulsed and took control of your body. Your eyes lost focus, your back arched, and you clenched hard on CO Miller’s cock.
His orgasm hit him hard and fast, like a lightning bolt through his body. The rhythmic beat of your impossibly tight pussy pulled it from him. There was barely time for him to pull out and rut his hot, wet cock against your ass, spilling his cum over your body.
He was finished with you. He wiped his cum from you body with a handkerchief. He was gentle, but sure not to leave a trace behind. He tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and took a long last look at your slick, used sex before standing you up to right your pants.
You watched him as he went through these motions, devoid of sentiment or warmth.
“Well, Miller? Do I get off for good behavior?”
It earned you a crooked half smile that flashed across this scruffy face before disappearing again.
“You get a shower.”
It wasn’t your usual shower time but you didn’t protest. You didn’t ask if you’d still get your shower tomorrow. Just walked obediently in front of him, still floaty from your release. He took you back down an empty corridor, past disused units, what used to be a library, to a shower room that was normally off limits, used by the guards as a sort of hangout, a break room separate from the main break room.
There, waiting with knees spread wide, and an eager smile, was CO Morales.
“Morales is gonna help ya with that shower. Don’t give him any trouble, or I’ll hear about it.”
Your mouth dropped as the younger man came to stand in front of you, taking your arm and pulling you closer to him.
“Broke her in for you,” CO Miller patted your ass as he addressed the new officer. The clear implication sent a fresh trickle of wetness from your slit.
“And next time,” he warned, “put on your bra. Won’t be so nice next time.”
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