#they ain’t need to know shit about fuck

[animamii]

letter from lockedup!Toji that goes along with this drabble ‎♡‧₊˚

...Beautiful, I just want you to know; you're my favorite girl...

— Beautiful~~Snoop dogg + Pharrel

‎

Hey, princess.

Got your letter today. Been reading it over and over, like I always do. I swear, these pages are the only thing keeping me sane in here. When everything else in this place feels like it’s closing in, I got your words, your handwriting, the way I can almost hear your voice saying all this to me. It keeps me steady. Keeps me from losing my head.

And that picture you sent? Fuck. You tryin’ to kill me in here? I swear, if these walls weren’t in the way, I’d be home already. You look good, baby. Too good. Almost makes me mad that other people get to see you like this when I can’t. But I know you’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.

You don’t even gotta try, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sitting there, all sweet, all perfect. Makes me crazy knowing I can’t reach out and touch you, pull you into me, feel your skin, hear you laugh in my ear. It ain’t fair. But I guess nothing ever has been for me. Except you. You’re the one thing in this world that ever felt like it was mine. I don’t say this enough, probably don’t say half the shit you deserve to hear, but I need you to know that. You ain’t just my girl. You’re my peace, my home, the only thing I’ve ever been afraid to lose. And that’s saying something.

I laughed when I read about Megumi and his damn ramen obsession. Stubborn little punk. I wonder where he gets it from. (Yeah, yeah, don’t say shit—I know.) Tell him I said to listen to his stepma, eat a real meal, and quit acting like he doesn’t miss me. I know how he is. Pretends he don’t care, but I bet if I walked through that door tomorrow, he’d be the first one running to me. He won’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes. Just like his old man. Make sure he’s eating real food, alright? He might act like he don’t care, but I know he listens to you. Probably more than he ever listened to me.

And you. You better be taking care of yourself too. Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking care of yourself? I know how you get—running around, worrying about everyone else, not stopping to breathe. You always got so much to worry about, but you forget you’re supposed to take care of you too. I don’t wanna hear that you’re running on empty, staying up too late, stressing yourself out. You always act tough, but I know you, baby. I know when you’re holding too much inside. I know when you need me. And I swear to you, I’m coming back.

You tell me you’ll wait. That you don’t care how long it takes. But, baby, I care. Every second in here is a goddamn eternity. Every night I go to sleep thinking about you, and every morning I wake up counting down the days until I can get back to you. And I will. No matter what I gotta do, no matter how long it takes, I will get home to you.And when I do? You better be ready. Because I’m never letting you out of my sight again. You hear me? You’re stuck with me, forever.

Wait for me just a little longer. I love you. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.

Toji

[punksyeet]

- We Deserve Better ❥

Plot: After mistreating the members of his bloodline, Roman learns the definition of karma the hard way.

Warning: Three-way love, verbal / physical abuse, mature language, & hefty flirting!

A/N: thank you to the lovely @isabella-2025 for yet another amazing request. this was my first time including solo in a fic and i had so much fun. i hope you enjoy! 💐🫶🏼

side note: apologies for the mini writing hiatus. life hasn’t been the kindest to me lately, so i needed to take a little break. regardless, thank you all for still being here. i’m forever grateful. 🤍

—————————————————————————————————

“You nervous for tonight, cousin?” Jimmy asks, his elbows resting on his knees.

Roman looks up from velcro-ing his glove and raises an eyebrow, smirking.

“Me? Nervous?” he replies, sarcastically. “Jon c’mon.”

Jimmy shrugs in response. “I’m just askin’, uce. Cody ain’t the same dude he was last year, that’s all.”

Roman’s smile fades and he slowly stands up and walks over to Jimmy.

“What?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest. “You sayin’ I can’t handle that boy?”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ u-“ Jimmy responds, but is cut off.

“Because last time I checked,” Roman continues, looking down and patting the WWE Universal Championship that’s sat across his waist. “We’ve been here before. And he ain’t never beat me. He ain’t never gon’ beat me. He ain’t never had this belt before. Ever. And sure as hell not for 1316 days.”

“You done?” Jimmy asks, slowly rising and sizing up Roman.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

Jimmy has always been the only one in our faction to have the balls to stand up to Roman.

Only, it never ends well.

When Roman only responds with a nostril flare, he continues.

“I ain’t never said you can’t handle shit man,” Jimmy continues. “Hell, you said it yourself. You been holding this thing for well over 1,000 days. Everyone knows who you are and what you’re about.”

“That’s right uce,” Jey chimes in, walking over and clapping his brother on the back. “Brother didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Just chill.”

Roman takes a deep breath and tilts his head from side to side as if he’s cracking his neck.

He only does this when he’s getting frustrated, so I decide to step in.

“Roman?” I call out quietly, standing up from the sofa.

And suddenly, all eyes are drawn to me.

Roman, with an eyebrow raised.

Jimmy and Jey, with their eyes widened as if to say “what’s wrong with you?”

Solo, with his usual emotionless expression on his face.

And Sami, with those same sad and confused puppy dog eyes.

I take a deep breath before continuing.

“With all due respect,” I say, just above a whisper. “Your match is on soon, and I think it’s best if you go out there relaxed? We can always handle this later.”

Roman looks down and chews on the inside of his cheek, before turning back to his cousins.

“She’s right,” Jey agrees, breaking the awkward silence. “Let’s ju-“

“What does this have to do with you anyway?” Roman asks, folding his arms across his chest.

Oh for fucks sake!

I sigh in defeat and look down as the bickering continues.

“It’s got everything to do with me when you’re talkin’ to my twin brother like he’s a piece of garbage,” Jey responds, slowly removing his hand from Jimmy’s back. “All he was doin’ was askin’ a question.”

Roman looks down, nodding in response.

“Get out,” he suddenly says, his eyes still on the floor. “Get up out my locker room.”

“Uce, you serious?” Jimmy asks in between scoffs.

Roman looks up and makes eye contact with him once more. “Am I laughing?”

Before Jimmy can respond, Jey pats his back and encourages him to leave, himself following.

Sami and Solo follow, leaving Roman and I in the room alone.

“I can’t believe that fool,” Roman mutters to himself, sitting back down on the sofa. “Tryna make me look stupid. Me.”

I take a deep breath and fiddle with my fingers. “No disrespect Roman but, he did only ask a question.”

He stops dead in his tracks and looks up at me. “You too?”

“I don’t think there’s any harm in-“

“Get out,” he interrupts me. “You agree with him? You can leave too. I don’t need none of you.”

I sit there in disbelief. “Are y-“

“Now,” he orders, cutting me off again.

I suck my teeth, get up, leave, and slam the door behind me.

The fucking nerve to kick me out.

After everything I’ve done so that his entitled ass didn’t need to lift a finger.

Well that ends now.

As I turn the corner to Triple H’s office, I hear a voice from behind me, causing me to turn around.

“Where you headed?” Solo asks, his arms folded across his chest and body leaned up against the wall.

“To talk to Paul,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “This whole replacement for the wiseman thing isn’t working anymore.”

He nods. “I understand.”

I raise an eyebrow and wrap my arms around myself protectively. “You do?”

He nods again. “I see how my cousin treats you. Treats all of us. We ain’t his lapdogs. We’re supposed to be his family.”

When I respond with only a sigh, he walks over and strokes either of my arms.

“Look,” he continues. “Come back to my brothers’ locker room. We all can talk there. No Roman. Just us, Sami, and the twins.”

I take a deep breath and give in, nodding and taking the short walk back with him.

“You alright?” Jey asks when I walk through the door, Solo following and closing it behind us.

I nod, my arms folded across my chest. “I will be.”

He sighs and walks over, wrapping me into his arms.

I immediately respond, placing my head on his chest.

“She was headed to go talk to Paul,” Solo begins, once we’re all sat down again. “Luckily I stopped her a couple feet away from his office.”

Jimmy tilts his head in response. “Triple H? Why?”

I look down and fiddle with my fingers once more. “It’s been two months of taking Roman’s shit. Two whole months. And I know it sounds cliché but…”

My voice trails off and I take a deep breath before continuing.

“…I guess one can only take so much.”

** Two Months Earlier **

I take a deep breath and adjust my dress before knocking on the cold metal door in front of me.

Why are you nervous to knock on a door? you may be asking.

Well, this isn’t just any door.

It’s the door to a locker room.

A locker room that belongs to the current most dominant faction in professional wrestling: The Bloodline.

Led by the most intimidating man to ever hit planet earth: Roman Reigns.

“I wanna thank you again for accepting this job,” Triple H says, placing a fatherly hand on my back. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I believe you’ve got it.”

Last Friday on Smackdown, Paul Heyman and The Rock got into it in kayfabe and eventually, it got physical.

Only, the Wiseman was actually harmed and is out with an injury for an estimated five months - which led HHH to looking for a replacement to keep the Bloodline story alive.

“Thank you boss,” I reply sweetly. “I’ll do my best.”

He replies with a smile and quick nod before our attention is brought back to the door, which flies open at the hands of him.

Roman Reigns.

“Roman,” Paul greets him, holding out a hand.

Roman exchanges glances at both of us before taking his hand and giving it a quick shake.

“This is Gianna,” he continues, turning to me. “The one I told you about over the phone last night? She’ll be Heyman’s replacement until his health is back where it belongs.”

I give Roman a nervous smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He nods in response.

After we pull away, there’s a moment of silence, until Paul breaks it again.

“Well,” he begins, after clearing his throat. “I’ve got some rehearsals to run before the show tonight. Producers will be around soon with your scripts and you can start working together.”

I nod in response. “Thank you again, boss.”

He responds with a smile and friendly hug before turning and walking away.

Once he’s out of sight, Roman steps aside and opens the door.

I smile sweetly and thank him before entering.

The room is huge - walls covered from top to bottom with framed pictures, championships, and even beautiful handmade leis.

As I go to take a seat on the sofa, Roman stops me.

“Not there,” he orders, placing his championship on the seat.

When I give him a look of confusion, he sighs.

“Only the wiseman sits there,” he mutters, taking a seat next to the spot. “And as much as you and Paul would like to believe it, you’re not my wiseman.”

I sigh and take a seat a bit farther away. “How about here? Are there any other imaginary reservations I should know about in this seat?”

“No,” he says, mocking my tone. “There aren’t.”

I roll my eyes and take a seat, crossing my legs.

He watches, giving me a mean mug. “You’ve got a nasty attitude, little girl.”

“More like I’m not a kiss ass,” I reply, folding my arms. “Just because your wiseman waited on you hand and foot, doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

He glares at me and stands up to leave, slamming the door behind him, leaving me all alone in the room.

This is gonna be a long five months.

** Flashback Over**

“Your feelings are completely valid Gi,” Sami replies, his elbows resting on his knees. “And you’re not alone. We’re all in the same boat here.”

“Forreal uce,” Jey agrees, clapping his back. “We gonna get through this shit together.”

I smile sweetly and thank them, allowing the faint sound of other wrestlers filming their segments out in the hallway to take over.

“Hey wait,” Solo says, breaking the comfortable silence. “I have an idea.”

We all turn to face him in unison.

“Whatchu thinkin’, uce?” Jimmy asks, clearly intrigued.

Solo nods slowly, looking up at us. “I know a way we can all teach Roman a lesson. One that he’ll never forget.”

He scans the room, looking into all of our eyes.

—————————————————————————————————

It’s about thirty minutes into the match and Roman is absolutely dominating.

As he holds Cody in a position where the middle rope is digging into this neck, the crowd erupts in boos.

“This is my company, you little bitch!” Roman yells out from above him.

Just then, four figures — Jimmy, Jey, Sami, and Solo — dressed in all black outfits and bandanas climb into the ring from behind him with chairs in hand.

Here we go.

“Who the hell?!” Michael Cole screams from the announce table.

As Roman turns around, he’s met with chairs against his ribs and back.

He immediately falls to the ground, screaming in pain.

The crowd goes absolutely insane, cheering at the sight of their soon-to-be champion having the upper hand for the first time in this match.

“Gianna, do something!” Cole calls out to me, causing me to smile.

“Oh I’ll do something alright,” I mutter to myself.

I slide into the ring and pull Cody on top of Roman by his arm, causing the crowd to go from loud to deafening.

One!

Two!

Three!

The crowd loses what’s left of their minds, as Cody redeems the championship and stands with the referee.

The boys and I slide out of the ring and walk up the ramp together, arms around each other.

On our way back to the locker room, we get equal amounts of praise and looks of confusion from other wrestlers.

Eventually, we get back.

“I’m so proud of us!” Sami cheers, clapping his hands.

“We really just did that shit,” Jimmy says in disbelief, plopping down onto the sofa.

“Props to you Sef,” Jey praises Solo, clapping him on the back. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Everyone nods in agreement and Jimmy turns to me. “You good Gi? You haven’t said a word.”

I half smile and nod. “I’m good. Just feeling a little….out of place I guess.”

He nods understandably. “I get you. Everything happened so fast.”

I nod in agreement and Solo chimes in. “But it needed to be done. Roman needed to be humbled. And he was.”

After a bit more small talk, there’s a comfortable silence as all of us try to process what happened tonight.

“Well,” I begin, breaking it and standing up. “I’m gonna head home. I’m beat.”

The boys chuckle in response.

“Wanna ride with us?” Jimmy asks, nodding towards Jey. “Just in case?”

I shake my head, grabbing my belongings from one of the cubbies on the wall. “I’ll be alright. You guys just get back safe, okay?”

“We will,” Jey chimes in, standing up.

We share a hug and I do the same with the rest of the guys before heading out.

As I make it about halfway through the parking lot, I hear the deep sound of a throat clear.

Oh no.

I freeze and slowly turn around, brought with the sight of Roman.

His arms are folded across his broad chest, his dark curls are pulled into a messy bun, and smoke is basically pouring out of his ears.

Let’s just say that if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the concrete.

“Wanna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” he asks, nodding back towards the arena.

I take a deep breath and clutch the strap of my bag tighter. “What’s the matter, Ro? Your ego still too big to realize that it’s exactly what the fuck you deserved?”

He does that head tilt thing again before taking a couple steps closer to me. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, little girl, but I’d suggest you pipe down.”

“Or what?” I challenge him. “You gonna degrade me? You gonna shit talk me? Go ahead, my Tribal Chief. It’s nothing I’m not used to coming from you.”

When he responds with just a deep breath, I continue.

“Good comeback. Have the night you deserve.”

As I turn to walk the rest of the way to my car, he grabs my wrist.

“You’re not getting away with the shit you and those assholes pulled tonight,” he mutters, his voice deep and angry.

I attempt to pull my arm back, but miserably fail, as his biceps are damn near the size of my head.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I scream, attempting and failing again.

Just as he goes to respond, four figures run up from behind him and tackle him to the ground.

“Get her home,” Jimmy orders Solo and Jey, nodding towards me. “We got this fool.”

“You sure y’all gon’ be alright?” Jey asks, as Solo wraps a protective arm around me.

“We’ll be fine,” Sami reassures him, as Jimmy goes back to attacking Roman.

Jey nods and walks with us. “C’mon, baby. Everything is gonna be alright.”

—————————————————————————————————

“Ow!” I whine as Solo dabs the bruise on my wrist with healing ointment.

“Sorry love,” he replies softly, as his brother comforts me by rubbing my back.

“What’s up with you two and the sudden pet names?” I ask, looking up at Jey.

He freezes and looks at Solo, who looks right back at him.

“Just a habit,” Solo replies, looking back down at my wrist and continuing what he was doing.

I nod, softly smiling to myself.

Suddenly, Jey gets up and disappears into the bathroom.

“Alright mama,” Solo begins again, closing the cap to the tube of ointment. “You’re all cleaned up.”

I give him a grateful smile and hug. “Thank you, So.”

He immediately hugs back and even kisses my temple.

Just as we pull away, Jey appears in the doorway. “Come, baby. You got a hot bath in here waiting for you.”

I smile and head over to Jey, who holds my lower back and leads me inside.

“You gon’ be alright in here?” he asks, about to head out.

I nod and peel off my hoodie. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

He nods, watches me for a moment, and closes the door.

—————————————————————————————————

“Thank you guys for taking care of me,” I say, as Jey and Solo step outside my hotel room door and into the hallway.

They turn around in unison.

“Anytime Gi,” Solo replies, a light smile on his face.

“What brother said,” Jey agrees. “You know we gotta keep our girl protected.”

I blush and smile softly. “Thank Jim and Sami for me, okay?”

As the elevator door opens, they nod.

“We will!” Jey calls out, as they both step in.

I smile, watch the elevator shut, and step back inside my room.

A couple minutes later, as I’m un-making my bed, I hear a knock at the door.

I raise an eyebrow and head over to open it.

Before I can say a word, Jey’s lips are on mine, his hands cupping my face.

I sit there for a moment, trying to process what’s happening, before slowly trailing my hands around his neck and kissing back.

When he finally pulls away, he’s panting.

“W-what was that for?” I ask, still in complete shock.

He chuckles, stepping aside and revealing Solo behind him.

“We forgot something,” Solo replies, coming closer to me and taking either of my hands.

When I give him a confused look, he smiles.

“We love you, baby.”

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[daryltwdixon]

Could you write some Joel Miller filth about period sex? I doubt that Joel would be like these stupid men that are repulsed by some period blood. I think he'd even like the mess to be honest. It's okay if you don't feel like writing it, it's just that I am on my period and I'm so fucking horny and sensitive and I just wish Joel would fuck me senseless.

Joel Miller x Reader Mess and All

Summary: Joel isn’t the kind of man to be scared off easily. And most definitely not by a little bit of blood. smut MDNI 18+

I never know how to tag these things: pinv, daddy kink, period sex, light fingering, dirty talk

a/n: hope I'm not getting this to you too late! Enjoy this smutty period sex, ya filthy animal. Joel is all about aftercare too, the gentleman he is, so we did get a bit of fluff at the end.

Joel’s hands were everywhere, gripping at your hips, sliding up your back, pulling you deeper into him as his mouth devoured yours, hot and insistent.

The room was dark, the sheets warm beneath your naked bodies, the heat of him pressing firm against you. His weight always grounded you, it made you feel wanted, crave— needed by this man.

Your breath hitched as he slid a rough palm down your thigh, hitching it up higher over his waist, pressing the full length of himself against you. You whimpered, arching into him, your body thrumming with need, too sensitive, too desperate for more.

“Wait, shit,” you exhaled, palm flattening against his chest as you gently pushed him back.

The sound of your lips parting, the wet smack of spit and heat between you did nothing to dull the flush of arousal still burning through you.

Joel froze, blinking down at you, pupils still blown wide, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. His hands left your body with what looked like great willpower.

“I’m on my period,” you groaned, frustration evident in your voice.

Joel made a ‘pfft’, shaking his head, already reaching for you again, his hands kneading your skin as his lips reached for your face, your lips—

But before he could close the space, you stiffened your hand against his chest, pressing firm.

“No, it’s gross—”

Joel’s eyes flickered, his expression shifting into something unreadable. His hands stopped, pausing their heavenly touches.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low, searching, serious.

Your lips parted, breath pausing. No. God, no, you didn’t want him to stop. Every fiber of your body was screaming for him, every nerve alive, every inch of you aching for more.

But men never wanted this. They got squeamish, annoyed, turned off. You knew how this conversation always went. It always ended the same: you, needy, unsatisfied, and very much alone in bed with your vibrator.

Your teeth pressed into your bottom lip, uncertainty warring with desire. “No,” you admitted quietly, a pout tugging at your lips as you watched Joel’s expression.

His breath was warm, the scent of musk and pine and something deeply masculine filling the space between you. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark, unreadable—until they dipped lower, down to where your thighs pressed tightly together, like you were trying to hold back the need pulsing between them.

Joel exhaled slowly. His hands, gentle as ever, reached for you again.

One slid to your jaw, tilting your face up, his thumb brushing slow and deliberate along your cheek. The other trailed down, over your stomach, pressing firm over your hip.

“Then why you stoppin’ me, baby?” he murmured, his voice so deep, so rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, but your body betrayed you, your hips shifting instinctively toward him, seeking more.

“Because…” you hesitated, cheeks flushing, voice small. “Men don’t… like it.”

Joel huffed, a low, almost amused sound. “That so?”

You nodded, eyes searching his, testing him.

Joel’s grip on your hip tightened, the heat of his palm searing through you, “Good thing I ain’t other men,” he murmured. Then, before you could say anything else, he kissed you, deep and slow, his lips parting yours like he wanted to consume you. You melted into him, moaning softly as his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh there, gripping, kneading, spreading.

“Joel—”

“Feel that?” he muttered against your lips, his fingers tracing up and down so slowly as they reached your already wet slick, “Feel how bad she wants me?”

You whimpered, your hands flying to grip at him, anywhere they could gain purchase–his thighs, his forearms, anywhere.

“You really think I give a shit about a little mess?” Joel growled, pressing his teeth into your neck kissing and sucking at the flesh there now pebbled with goosebumps. His cock throbbed against your hip, heavy and hard, his fingers still working tight, lazy circles against your clit, keeping you squirming beneath him.

“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your throat, along the bone of your clavicle. “You gonna let me?”

You nodded, gasping as his fingers dragged down, the obscene noise of your arousal filling the space. Joel’s breath shuddered as he pulled back just enough to look.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice wrecked, his fingers sliding through your slick folds, until they began teasing your aching clit. A broken moan tore from your lips, your body pulsing, needy.

“Aw hunny, she’s soaked,” Joel teased, his thumb circling your clit, taunting. “All that for me?”

“Y-yes,” you whimpered, nails digging into his arms, “Yes, Joel,”

Joel smirked, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your leg as he pulled it over his shoulder, “Then let me make a mess of you, sweetheart.”

And with that, he pinched your clit, circling faster and faster as he held your body as you bucked beneath him. His fingers worked you into dizzy oblivion, steady and rampant, his mouth hot against your skin, his breath thick with restraint.

You gasped, reality cutting through the haze of pleasure as you felt him near your entrance. “Wait, wait—”

Joel froze, his fingers stilling, his lips pausing mid-kiss against your calf.

Your head spun, your thighs trembling, the ache still heavy in your core. You swallowed hard. “I need to—” You exhaled shakily, shifting against him. “I have to take out my tampon.”

Joel blinked at you, dazed, like it took him a second to even process the words through the fog of want that had settled between you. Then, after a beat, he exhaled through his nose, slow and measured, reluctantly pulling his fingers from you, sitting back on his heels and releasing your leg.

His hands flexed, his jaw tight, his whole body radiating pure restraint.

“Alright,” he muttered, the look on his face like a toddler being told to wait for his favorite dessert, before nodding toward the bathroom. “Go on, then.”

You pushed off the bed and hurried to the bathroom, your whole body throbbing as you shut the door behind you. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the tampon, your pulse still racing, your mind clouded with the image of Joel waiting in bed, wrecked, ready to tear into you the second you walked back out.

You tossed the tampon, taking a slow, steadying breath as you grabbed a washcloth, running it under warm water, wiping between your thighs.

But then, as you turned and opened the door, you were greeted by the most marvelous, beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. Joel stood there, bare, broad, towering, his pupils blown wide, his aching cock in his fist.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ wait,” he muttered, his voice rough, before his hands were on you, turning you around, hands gripping your waist, bending you over the sink. You gasped, bracing yourself against the cold porcelain, your thighs trembling as he pressed up behind you, his cock sliding between your slick folds. 

“Joel—” you whimpered, your breath fogging up the mirror, your fingers curling tight against the edge of the sink.

“Nah uh, baby,” He didn’t waste another second. With one firm thrust, he sank into you, stretching you open, filling you to the hilt.

“Still so ready, so wet for me. Even with all your complainin’,” he groaned, voice thick, rough against your ear. “‘Joel, I’m on my period,’” he mocked, and the next thrust was hard, forcing another gasp from your lips, your knuckles white against the sink.

“Joel, it’s gross,” he continued, smirking, his breath hot against your neck.

Your body shuddered, clenching around him as heat poured through you, spreading like liquid fire. Your moan echoed against the bathroom walls, pussy clenching around him, the sensation even more intense than usual due to the added wetness and sensitivity.

Joel grunted, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled out, then thrust back in, deep and slow.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his breath ragged as words tumbled from his mouth. “You love this, don’t you? Love bein’ my filthy little thing, huh? So needy, so wet and achin’. Can’t believe you tried keepin’ her from me. All fuckin’ wet and perfect and tight, Jesus–”

Joel growled, his pace quickening, fucking into you with deep, steady strokes, his hips slamming against yours, the sound of skin-on-skin mixing with the soft, wet sounds of you taking him.

You whimpered, arching into his touch, your head tipping back onto his shoulder as he devoured you, kissing the side of your neck, biting just hard enough to make you moan.

“Say it,” Joel gritted out, his voice dark, low, commanding. Before you could even process the words, his hand slid up, rough fingers wrapping beneath your jaw, forcing your gaze to the mirror in front of you.

“Watch, baby, look at you,” he rasped, snapping his hips into you from behind, making you cry out, your nails scraping against the sink.

You were a mess—flushed, sweaty, your lips swollen and eyes heavy, your body rocking forward with every deep, punishing thrust. Whimpering and barely able to think, your body was already on the edge of something sharp, hot, all-consuming.

Joel’s grip tightened, holding you right there, making you see the way you reacted to him, his touch, his cock. When your eyes flickered up to meet his, he had a devilish grin. 

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice thick with something dangerous, something possessive, kissing the side of your face before looking back up into the mirror to meet your gaze again. “Watch yourself get off on my cock, all messy and nasty, little thing—” His other hand slid down, pressing firm circles against your clit, dragging a wrecked whimper from your lips.

“—and say you love it.”

You gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the sink, your head spinning, your body clenching tight around him. 

“I—I love it,” you finally panted, voice breaking, your eyes blown wide as you watched yourself take him in the mirror, “I love it, daddy–love your cock–”

Joel’s smirk deepened, his grip tightening.

“Atta girl. So pretty like this, baby. All mine. My pretty, filthy little thing.” Joel ground out, an inhuman noise escaping his teeth as he pulled back to watch himself disappear inside you, the slick mess between you coating his length. And God, he loved it.

Your stomach tightened, your body clenching, pleasure coiling tight, hot and unbearable.

And he felt it.

“There she is,” he gritted, his fingers trailing down, pressing against your folds again as his rhythm steadied, his thumb circling your clit just right. “Come on, baby—give it to me. Cum all over daddy’s cock, yeah? C’mon now,”

Your whole body jerked, pleasure shooting through you, your walls fluttering around him. You moaned loud, rocking back against him, desperate. Suddenly, as his fingers rubbed your clit once more, his thick length stretching and pushing into the spongy corner of your pussy, your orgasm ripped through you, hot and overwhelming, your body locking up before shaking apart in his hands.

Joel groaned, feeling you pulse around him had his breath shattering against your skin as he buried himself deep, his hips stilling as he spilled inside you, his whole body going tense before sagging against your back.

The bathroom was silent except for your ragged breathing, the heat still thick between you.

Joel exhaled sharply, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder, his hands rubbing slow circles into your hips, “You alright, hunny?” 

“I think you may have just created the cure for cramps–” you exhaled a laugh.

Joel chuckled, the deep sound rumbling against your back as he pressed another kiss to your skin, the scruff of his beard deliciously rough against your oversensitive flesh.

“Yeah?” he murmured, nuzzling the space just below your ear. “Guess I’ll have to keep you comin’ back for treatment then, huh?”

You hummed, smiling as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close for a long, quiet moment, his thumbs still absentmindedly stroking your skin, grounding you.

Then, after a beat, he pressed a final kiss to your temple.

“C’mon,” he murmured, voice softer now, more gentle. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

With that, he finally pulled away, slipping out of you, soothing a warm palm down your back as you caught your breath. He leaned over, turning on the shower, steam already curling into the air. Joel glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes warm, steady, that familiar softness creeping back into his face.

“Water’s warm,” he said, tilting his chin toward the shower. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

You sighed, stretching your limbs before stepping in after him, your body still buzzing, still humming in the aftermath of everything he just gave you.

The hot water cascaded over your skin, washing away the evidence of your shared pleasure, but Joel’s hands never stopped taking care of you.

Strong, steady palms kneaded into your sore muscles, working out the tension, soothing where he might’ve held you too tight, where his grip had branded you as his. He reached for the soap, lathering it in his hands before running it over your skin, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing you all over again.

He worked through your hair next, fingers massaging against your scalp, his touch firm but careful, gentle in a way that made your heart stutter.

You leaned into him, your back pressing against his front, your body melting under his touch.

“Love you, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your shoulder. “Mess and all.”

A soft smile stretched across your lips, your eyes drifting closed as you reached back for him, fingers threading through his damp hair.

“Love you more,” you whispered.

Joel just hummed, arms tightening around you, holding you close as the water poured over both of you, sealing you in the warmth of something deeper than just this.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: All That Matters (Part 3)

Part 4

Even with all of Marshall’s efforts—his reassurance, his presence, the way he went out of his way to make you feel like you were the most important thing in his world—some days were still harder than others.

Like today.

He was back in LA for a few days, and you were home in Detroit, going through the motions. The kids kept you busy, but there was always a moment—usually late at night—when the doubt crept back in.

You had been scrolling through your phone, not meaning to fall down the rabbit hole, but one tap led to another, and suddenly, you were staring at a picture from an afterparty.

Marshall wasn’t doing anything wrong.

But there was a woman beside him—one of those up-and-coming singers, all perfect curves and confidence, leaning in just enough to make your stomach twist.

The comments didn’t help.

She’s bad as hell. Imagine them together.

She’d be an upgrade tbh.

They got chemistry.

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter, your breathing shallow.

You knew better than to believe online bullshit. You knew Marshall loved you.

But after everything… it still got to you.

So when your phone rang, and you saw his name pop up, you didn’t answer.

Then he called again.

And again.

You sighed, finally picking up. “Hey.”

“The fuck?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You tell me,” he shot back. “I been callin’ you for an hour.”

You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m just tired, Marshall.”

Silence. Then—

“Nah,” he said lowly. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, debating whether to lie. But before you could, he sighed.

“Baby, don’t do that. Just tell me.”

Your throat tightened. “I saw the pictures.”

He was quiet for a second. Then—“What pictures?”

You swallowed. “You and that girl at the afterparty.”

Marshall groaned. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? That chick talked to me for five minutes about music and people start makin’ shit up. You know how this works.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But it still sucks.”

He sighed heavily. “I shoulda taken you with me.”

You frowned. “Marshall, I couldn’t go.”

“I know,” he muttered. “And that’s the problem.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I hate bein’ away from you. I hate that you’re sittin’ at home, doubtin’ yourself, when all I wanna do is be there with you.”

Your heart clenched.

“I don’t give a fuck about any of those women,” he said firmly. “I don’t look at them. You’re the only one I see. And if me bein’ in LA or doin’ this music shit is makin’ you feel otherwise, then maybe I gotta change some shit.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

You frowned. “Marshall, your career is huge. You can’t just—”

“I don’t want it if it’s fuckin’ up my marriage.”

Your breath hitched. “Marshall…”

“I’d give it up tomorrow if it meant you’d never question how much I love you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t want that.”

He exhaled sharply. “Then tell me what you do want. Tell me how to fix this.”

You wiped at your eyes. “I just… I wanna feel like I’m part of your life, not just waiting on the sidelines.”

Marshall was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Then you will be.”

You sniffled. “What does that mean?”

“It means I ain’t leavin’ you home anymore. If I gotta travel, you and the kids come with me. If there’s an event, you’re by my side. Ain’t no more of this ‘waiting at home’ bullshit.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s not realistic—”

“The fuck it ain’t?” he challenged. “Other people do it. And you ain’t just ‘other people,’ baby. You’re my wife.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Then, softer, he murmured, “I need you with me.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You inhaled shakily. “Yeah. Okay.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. Now, unlock the door.”

You frowned. “What?”

“The front door. Unlock it.”

Confused, you got up, padding toward the front of the house. You unlocked the door and pulled it open—

And there he was.

Standing on the porch, looking exhausted but so damn there.

Your heart stopped. “You’re supposed to be in LA.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well. My wife needed me.”

Tears slipped down your face as he pulled you into his arms, his grip so tight it left no room for doubt.

You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in, letting his presence melt away every insecurity, every fear.

Marshall pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I got you,” he murmured. “Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed him.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

ok so this was SUPPOSED to be just a scene in my fic but now idk if i should make it a one-shot bc DAMNN

i was just writing & building up this scene in my fic and then my brain just fucking broke. because. WHAT IF

so imagine bursting into Ford's lab (pre portal) bc you need to find Ford’s journal (for the plot). u know there’s something in there, smth about shutting the portal down and u can't let Bill get his hands on it

but the second you see Ford you know it's not him because of his posture & intonation of voice is wrong too. when he finally turns to face you his eyes are yellow

Bill finds it hilarious, he thinks ur nothing, weak, dumb, not even worth worrying about so he just. lets you in

he’s leaning against the workbench, throwing out some "aww, you came all this way for me, sweetheart?" just bullshit, probably trying to get under ur skin but you don't take the bait, don't even look at him

and then you just start smashing his shit and BILL FREEZES. genuine panic for the first time. because you're destroying everything they worked on. ur hands sweep across the workbench, smashing glass, overturning notes, sending stacks of delicate calculations flying

“HEY” you don't stop, grabbing the nearest equipment and throwing it, sending a monitor crashing, the screen shattering into a mess of exposed wires and ruined circuits.

Ford (Bill) panics like “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, OKAY, RELAX, SWEETHEART, LET’S NOT—”

“HEY, THOSE TAKE TIME, Y’KNOW—”

you don't give a fuck bc you need to find that damn journal while Bill is trying to dodge the chaos, scrambling to grab whatever’s left, floundering.....

so when your back is facing him Bill lunges, wanting to attack you BUT THEN BUT THEN BUT THENNNNNNN you whirl around with Ford's journal in hand and Bill stops immediately because there’s a memory gun pressed right between his fucking eyes!!!! (well Ford's eyes but you get me)

for the first time Bill actually feels threatened. but no no no he doesn’t let it show, he won’t let it show. instead his lips curl

i haven't figured out what he's going to say yet, still working on dialogue but maybe something as:

“ohhhh, baby, ya don’t wanna do that.”

“what, you really gonna do it? really gonna erase your precious genius from his own mind? gonna wipe out every little memory he’s ever had? everything you've ever shared?”

“oh, c'mon, u really wanna erase ALL that? all that brainpower? all those little memories? what was it, your first date? your first kiss?”

and all of that while he takes a step forward, coming closer until he's right in front of you. he leans in. presses you back against the workbench

“you really wanna lose all that? cause lemme tell ya, dummy, he won’t remember a damn thing about you.”

ur finger twitches on the trigger and Bill is like “aw, don’t feel bad,” while wrapping Ford's fingers around your wrist. “you humans and your little attachments. it's cute, really. adorable, even. but c’mon, sweetheart. we both know you ain’t gonna do it. you don’t wanna hurt our lovely braniac. deep down, you know he'd never forgive you”

“Ford would rather forget me than be your puppet.” you say

anyways

im still thinking about how i should write this scene. it can be two ways

1. you grip the gun tighter and Bill tilts his head, his grin widens and then that freak leans forward until the barrel of the gun slides past his lips. “y'know, Ford's got a real sensitive gag reflex.”

2. Bill leans in and presses his forehead against the barrel. “go on, sweetheart, pull the trigger. pull that trigger and poof! your little nerd loses everything.”

anyways bill cipher you are a whore that's all i wanted to say

[brattylikestoeat]

You seem like you are having great sex, wish I could relate. :(

Closed mouths don’t get fed. I told myself a long time ago. If I was going to deal with men, my needs had to be met. I will not fuck a man that cant fuck me back. If he the only one receiving pleasure and getting an orgasm then I’m out. ✌🏾

Teach, coach, train, a man how to please you because they going off shit they seen in porn. I’m not a porn star you not just gone bang me and walk away. Put in the effort to get me there or never touch me again.

Donald couldn’t even eat pussy when I met him. He done it maybe 4 times he said, his ex wife didn’t care if he did or didn’t. Had to train him to do it right for me. Took him a year.

Gator got the equipment but wanted to fuck like a porn star. Slow down bucko, this ain’t no race. Had to teach that mf how to stroke it correctly.

All I’m saying is two things, speak up. Men tend to think they’ve done a good job in the bedroom because they finish. Unless you are vocal about your needs they won’t know and most won’t ask. BE VOCAL.

Teach, coach, train. If he can’t get with the program to learn your needs, he doesn’t need access to your body. And they don’t get unlimited chances to try either. After the second encounter you either showing improvement or you don’t care enough and therefore I’m not fucking you, bye.

[draconicdeityarts]

It be like that

[pettytiredandjewish]

I can’t believe that I have to say this but I guess I have to (since I keep seeing people say this kind of sick shit on different social media platforms)…

The I/P war is not a Palestine holocaust. Okay?! It’s not even close to a fucking holocaust. It’s a really horrible war in which innocent people from BOTH sides have sadly lost their lives. This WAR would not have happened if Hamas didn’t attack Israel and killed/kidnapped a whole bunch of innocent people (Israelis and non-Israelis)… did yall forget Hamas started this fucking war?? Not only that but other terrorist organizations also decided to jump in and join in on the war to wipe out all of Israel. These fuckers AKA Hamas doesn’t care about their civilians. It’s been proven multiple times that Hamas uses their civilians as human shields. Those who tried to fight back were killed by Hamas.

It’s not a Palestine holocaust. The holocaust AKA the Shoah happened during WW 2 when the nazies wanted to kill all of European Jews. (Because surprise- us Jews were blamed once again for every single problem that was happening around that time- kinda like how we are now being blamed for what’s currently happening… history does love to repeat itself- I wonder why). Jews were sent to ghettos and camps (work and death camps) all throughout Europe. A majority of them were brutally murdered by the nazies. Those who escaped and survived the shoah either went to Israel or fled to other countries like the USA or Canada. I was lucky that my great grandparents fled before WW2 (they left Germany due to anti Jewish hate crimes that was getting worse and worse…). But sadly my other family members did not leave Germany/Poland and were sent to the camps. Only a few survived.

So for the love of- just please stop comparing this war to the holocaust. Okay?! Because it’s not. Holy fucking shit some of yall need to know your history….

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[allpromarlo]

why is hoyo forgetting that trailblazer is the mc of this game

[femme-enby]

What if I just go crazy. Absolutely bananas. Positively kookoo. Brazenly bonkers even.

[lesbiansanemi]

Speaking of my roommate this bitch stresses me tf out cuz she’s finally like “okay you’re moving I gotta make a plan” except her…. Plan…… is driving across the country…… and living in LA………

[bibleofficial]

ok so man that i hooked up w like 2 weeks ago that i wanted to see for like dates: cancelled. i’m bored of him 😭😭😭

[rosicheeks]

😓🤬

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

.

[sapphic-storm69]

POV: you’re staring at the person who made the saddest, most depressing movie you’ve ever seen, into a meme