La Casa De Papel Season 3 Episode 1.

DRIVE THE WEDGE. TORCH THE BRIDGE. — 3.09 ‘Fall’ x 6.12 'Waterworks’

Asking Nicely II Joel Miller x Reader

Joel's jealousy burns within him, brighter than he thought it would. But you're a tough gal, you can hold your own.

Warning: implied age gap, unwelcome advances, brief depiction of violence, explicit content, fingering f!receiving, p in v, unprotected sex. 18+ only, minors DNI!

Word count: 3k

You were a bright and shining light in the darkness of a broken world, and whether Joel would admit it or not, it made him incredibly nervous. He enjoyed you, more than he wanted to say, especially to himself. He was worried that if he confessed his feelings to himself or to you, that you'd leave, or something terrible would happen. So he kept quiet, and would watch you from a distance, thinking about the way you'd fit against him in all the right ways.

He was at the bar in Jackson well past sundown. He had come to see you. You were playing that night; Tommy had asked you to. So you sat in the corner of the bar, strumming the guitar and singing as everyone quieted to listen.

Joel vaguely recognized the tune, something slow and mellow that had couples swaying together around the tables. You sang beautifully. You played beautifully. He basked in what felt like normalcy and stayed until you were done several songs later. He watched you smile as the people in the bar clapped for you.

You set the guitar in the stand, and walked up to the bar, and Joel finished his whiskey. The bartender announced last call but he stayed seated. He watched as Ben, a man about your age, sidled up next to you and began talking to you. Joel could see you beam at him, and something stirred within him.

He kept his face carefully composed. He watched you shake your head, and then look around desperately. He felt it was a call for help. He stood as people began to leave, walking with intention in every step towards you.

“C’mon,” Ben was saying. “You said it yourself, you're not doing anything tonight. Come on over.”

“Ben, I'm flattered, really! But—oh, hi Joel.” You looked over Ben’s shoulder at Joel, relief washing over you. Joel offered you a nod and Ben turned. Joel was slightly taller than him, and heavier set than him. But Ben didn't back down immediately.

The younger man squared his shoulders, looking Joel in the eyes. Joel didn't find him to be intimidating, but he did see him as a threat. A threat to you.

Ben reached for you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You tried pulling away but he kept you locked against him as the two men stared each other down. You felt uncomfortable, and you tried to pull away again. “Ben, please.”

Joel watched, clenching his fists. Anger began pouring into his chest as you glanced at him, a fleeting look that he couldn't read. He stepped towards Ben. “You had best listen to her.”

“Or what?” Ben sneered. You wormed your way out of his grasp. He turned his head to look down to you, and that's when you closed your hand into a fist and punched him.

Ben stumbled back from the force of the blow, and Joel stepped between you and the man. The bar went silent, the remaining people fixing their eyes on the trio. Joel might as well have been a wolf, hackles raised and growling as Ben touched his jaw. Ben glared at Joel, spitting out, “Son of a bitch.”

“Move along now, son,” Joel replied, preparing himself for the imminent fight.

You breathed hard, your fury written across your face, and when Ben looked to you, you held his gaze and cocked an eyebrow. You wanted to dare him to overstep again, especially now that Joel was here. Your knuckles throbbed from the impact of the blow. It made you feel alive.

Ben scoffed, shaking his head, and turned to leave. Joel stood between you the whole time, waiting for the door to close behind him before turning to you. He looked you up and down, asking silently with his eyes if you were okay. He reached down, grabbing onto your hand, looking at the red skin over your knuckles. One of them had split, and was dripping blood.

“C’mon,” he said, jerking his head to the right. “Let's get you outta here.”

•••

Joel sat across from you and tended to your wounds with gentle hands. He had a clean rag in his hands that was soaked in alcohol; you commented that he was good at this. He wiped the area around the split, and then dabbed at the wound itself. 

You resisted the urge to pull your hand away at the sting, but you held firm, watching him as he furrowed his brow. “I've patched myself up enough to know, I guess.”

Nodding your head, you sighed. “I shouldn't have punched him.”

“If you hadn't, I would've,” he quipped. “No one gets to touch you like that.” 

Amusement beamed at your eyes as you looked at him. You had seen the flash of jealousy in his eyes earlier, and you could see it again more clearly now. “My my, is Joel Miller jealous?” 

Joel froze, clearing his throat, and you knew you had caught him like a rabbit in a trap. “No.”

“Uh huh,” you teased. He frowned, setting down the rag before standing. Your smile disappeared. You didn't realize you had struck such a strong chord. 

“I should get goin’.”  

“Hey,” you said, reaching out and grabbing onto his arm as he tried to step away. “I'd like it if you stayed.”

The man locked up again, his gaze snapping to yours in an instant. You rose from the chair. “Please?”

He sighed. “Suppose ya did ask nicely.”

You grinned up at him, and then your hands moved, one resting on his chest and the other on his neck. He was still, his breath hitching. His voice was deathly quiet when he whispered, “What’re you doin?”

Pressing your body against his, you tilted your head up. “Something I should've done a long time ago,” you whispered back, and then you kissed him. 

He whined. Almost silent, but it was there, swallowed by your mouth as you moved your lips against his. You began to pull away when he didn't respond immediately, fear of overstepping suddenly at the forefront of your mind. 

Then, his hands pressed into your lower and upper back, keeping you from backing away. He kissed you back, and he kissed you hard. It was zealous and feverish, growing more intense as the hand you had on his neck inched up and back into the hair on the back of his head. You were pressed backward into the table. Joel pulled away, you whined in protest, and then you were lifted by your hips up onto the surface.

His lips returned to yours, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped from your mouth as his tongue darted out, licking over your bottom lip. You met him, tongues tangling together, as you spread your legs to accommodate his body between them. You could feel wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs. You could feel the heat of the moment possessing you—Joel possessing you—and you gasped for breath when he pulled his head away. His touch left wakes of fire, tingling sensations burning across your skin. You needed more. 

“Maybe I was jealous,” he growled, and you shuddered. “Maybe I've been thinkin’ of this for weeks.” 

Your cheeks flushed at his admission and your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, maybe I've been thinking about it for months.”

His eyebrows raised, and then a smirk slowly played across his lips. “Darlin’, all you ever had to do was ask.” 

You swallowed, playing with one of the buttons on his flannel. “Joel,” you started, looking up at him through your lashes. “Take me to the bedroom.”

He didn't waste a second, hooking his hands under your knees and lifting you with a soft grunt. You directed him down the hallway towards your room. You expected him to throw you on the bed, to tear off your clothes, to bite you, to claim you, and you wanted these things. But when he laid you down with the softest hands, gentle and easy, you realized that you'd take any piece of him he'd give to you. His tenderness would not go unnoticed. 

He licked his lips as he looked over you, splayed out on the bed beneath him, and you felt shy. You turned your head, trying to hide, and he gave you a ‘tut tut’ with his tongue. “Look at me.” 

You did as he asked, and he followed it with a, “Good girl.” Your body shook in response, your cheeks burning again. He chuckled. 

He leaned down, grabbing your hands and pinning them together over your head. He told you to keep them there as he kissed along the side of your neck. He undressed you methodically, undoing the buttons on your shirt, one by one. You could feel your impatience growing. “Joel.” 

He hummed in response. The last button came undone and his hands found your bare sides, running up and down them before taking your breasts in his hands. He squeezed them gingerly, feeling their weight in his palms. You couldn't help squirming. You struggled with not moving your hands, you wanted to feel over him, too. You resisted the urge to touch his shoulders, to feel the muscles underneath his button up. You wanted him, more in that moment than you'd ever wanted anything else. 

He undid the button and fly on your jeans, and he pulled them down and away, leaving you clad in only your underwear. He breathed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He looked at you with feral eyes. You could feel it in his gaze: he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

His fingers hooked around your underwear, pulling them off in one motion. Your hands fell then, touching his arms. He looked at you, a domineering flame in his eyes, and in one smooth motion he grabbed onto you and flipped you onto your side. A smack landed on your asscheek, stinging the skin. You yelped, and then shuddered. He chuckled. 

His palm rubbed over where he'd slapped you. “What did I say?” 

“Not to move my hands…” you whispered. 

“Don't disobey me, darlin’.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl,” he repeated. Your eyes closed, mouth watering at his praise. You never thought it would sound so good. He rolled you back onto your back, and came to lay beside you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand came to your thigh. He rubbed, and then squeezed, and then inched his way up towards your pussy. 

You shuddered in anticipation. You wanted him to touch you in the spot only you had touched. He stopped moving, and you whined in protest. Your arms stayed above your head this time. You looked to him, and his eyes were watching you. 

“I wanna make sure,” he mumbled. “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “But…”

He tensed. “Yes?” 

“I haven't done this—” you started, and then felt yourself hesitating. You felt embarrassed. “—this kinda shit before.” 

His eyebrows raised and he squeezed your thigh. “You're sure you wanna do it with me?”

You didn't hesitate this time. “I do.”

His middle and ring finger brushed up over your folds, palm resting on the junction of your thigh and pelvis. Your eyes closed, and you could feel him lean and kiss your forehead. “Alright then.”

He brought his fingers to your clit, pressing against it in slow circles—testing the water. You gasped, nails digging into your palms to keep your hands from moving. Your thighs shook ever so slightly. Joel's lips found your neck, your head rolled to the side, and he kissed your skin, leaving little nibbles in his wake as he traveled down and then up again. One finger sunk into your entrance, and your thighs jolted closed. 

He waited until your legs fell again to pump in and out, and you couldn't stop the groan that left you. Joel's breathing was loud in your ear. 

He sunk another finger inside of you, slowly stretching you. His fingers were so much bigger than yours, long and thick, and he played you like an instrument. He found which spots made you cry out, and he pushed and rubbed them until you were a sweaty, babbling mess in his hands. You tossed and turned your head, his lips by your ear, encouraging you. 

“Doin’ so good, darlin’,” he whispered. “So wet, so tight. Oh yes, right there, huh? That's the spot. Yeah.” 

Your hips bucked off the bed as he curled his fingers. Your hands shot down to your sides, gripping the blanket underneath you. He chuckled, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't focus, his fingers driving you to insanity. You knew that this would be bad for you, because you would never stop craving this. Every time you'd see him, you'd want him more than you already did. He knew it too. 

His hand shifted angles, his thumb flicking at your clit as his fingers continued their ruthless assault. “Joel.” 

You whispered it like a prayer. 

“Cum. For me, darlin’, please.” 

He flicked twice more, and everything that had been building in you exploded. Your legs slammed closed around his hand, and he moaned with you as you cried out. The waves crashed into you, carrying you further from reality, small movements of his hands driving you forward into the deep waters you recognized as Joel. You were putty in his hands. Your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth open, and Joel couldn't help but watch as you came on his fingers. He was mesmerized. 

You began to come down, twitching and jerking, and then trying to scramble away from Joel's movements. It was all too much for you. It was overwhelming. Everything was loud, your combined breathing, your heart slamming in your chest and the blood pounding in your ears. You reached to grab his forearm, digging your nails into his skin, and he finally slowed to a stop. You shook like a leaf.

He kissed you then, his lips soft against yours. You realized then that he was still fully clothed, and you reached for his belt. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you from undoing it as he pulled away. You groaned, trying to express your discontent. 

“Patience,” he said, ducking his head to take your nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it, flicking it with his tongue, making your back arch. He pulled away with a ‘pop!’ and you fell back onto the bed. He got up, taking off his shirt and undoing his belt. He kicked his boots off, then his pants and underwear followed, and you saw the sight you had been literally dreaming of for weeks. 

He was a broad and beautiful man, scars and hair covering his body. You followed the trail of hair down from his navel, and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock. It was long, thick, curved up and weeping with precum.  He got back up on the bed.

You felt nervous. Joel could see it. He took your face in his hands. “If you wanna stop, at any point, you just tell me,” he reassured. 

“Okay,” you replied. “I will.” 

He nodded his head, hands going down by your sides to hold himself up as he climbed over the top of you. His cock rubbed against you, your wetness coating him. He trembled. 

His cock pushed into you, and your breath hitched. The stretch of him entering your pussy stung, and your hands shot to his back, gripping him. He didn't say anything, just slowly but surely worked his way inside of you. He sighed when he finally seated himself. You were breathing hard, and sweat had gathered at your temples. 

“I'm gonna move, darlin’.” 

You nodded, opening your eyes to find him staring at you. Something shone in his, something warm and almost loving. You wanted to drink it up, sit in this moment forever. He was looking at you like nothing else in the world mattered to him. He moved then, his thrusts deep and heavy. 

It felt so goddamn good. 

You cried out, and he reached down, encouraging you with his hands to wrap your thighs around his hips. You did so immediately, and it allowed him somehow even deeper access. You moaned, then gasped, then whispered his name. He hummed. 

“Faster,” you whined. He obliged. 

Each increase of pace was followed by squeezing him harder with your legs, or digging your nails into the skin of his back, and you cried out louder each time. 

He wasn't quiet, whispering your name, whispering praises, telling you how good you were for him. He moaned when your hips shifted off the bed, trying to meet his thrusts. 

“Excited, huh? Do you like when I make you feel good, sugar? F-fuck. You're so god damn tight, feels so damn good.” 

“Mhmmm! Yes, Joel! I can't—I can't—” 

“Can't what?” He crooned, brushing a hand across your cheek. “We both know you can cum for me again.” 

That did it for you. You unraveled again. Your hand came up, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him down onto you. His body covered yours, pressing against you, his face tucking against your neck. He moaned loudly, and you shook, unable to even do much as breathe as you tightened around him over and over again. His thrusts became heavier again, more sporadic, and then he was cumming, too. 

He fell against you completely, barely holding himself up. You gulped in the air when you felt like you could breathe again, resting your cheek against the side of his head. Your hands slowly relaxed. 

He moved after a couple minutes of silence, pulling out of you before rolling to lay by your side. You immediately curled up against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“No no,” he replied. He gave you a smile, a genuine broad grin. “Thank you.” 

THIS 😭😂😂❤️

dickybow-diqi.mp4

(footage of a v important outfit)

Before and After

So Alive II Joel Miller x Reader

The first time you laid your eyes on Joel, you knew something felt... different.

Warnings: gunshot wound, stitches, explicit content 18+, soft!joel, oral/fingering f!receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, minors dni.

Word count: 3.1k

Something had sparked in you the first time you saw Joel Miller. You could feel the heat swirl up through your body, like the world was begging you to open up. Begging you to connect. Begging you to invite this man in. You didn't know if you could.

But something in you wanted to try.

It was the end of June, and it was hot. Hotter than you had remembered it being the year before. Joel rode beside you, he always did. You never acknowledged that you liked his closeness to you. 

Patrol that day was standard, riding to a nearby abandoned settlement for supplies, and was going decently without a hitch, until it wasn't. Shots were fired, and then Joel was falling back off of his horse hitting the ground hard. He gasped, the wind being knocked out of him, and in an instant you were off your horse, skidding to a halt on the ground beside him. 

The other members of the patrol dealt with the situation, riding for cover. The shootout began, and took only a few minutes to disperse. You couldn't care about that, even though you knew you should've. All you could focus on was Joel, blood starting to seep through his shirt. You swallowed, your hands shaky. You went to start unbuttoning his shirt, trying to assess the damage, but his other hand stopped you. 

“‘M fine,” he muttered, grabbing your arm as his eyes trained on you. You shook your head. 

“Joel, you are certainly not fine.”  

He stared at you, and then slowly but surely released his grip on your wrist. He nodded. You got to work. 

•••

He had leaned on you, one arm wrapped around your middle as you rode back to Jackson. You were acutely aware of him, telling yourself it was because you didn't want him to fall off. He was shaky.

You escorted him to the medical center personally, and when they pulled him back to stitch him up, he asked you to come with him. How could you have said no? 

He had a stoic expression as they stitched up his wounds. The bullet cut clean through his left trapezius muscle, skimming over the top of his collarbone. His hand twitched and he glanced at you. His eyes were unreadable. 

Your quick fix of wrapping gauze around his wounds after he had fallen off his horse had saved him a lot of blood loss, they told you. You just felt he was lucky to be alive. If the gunman’s aim had been any better, Joel wouldn't have lived. The thought chilled you, making goosebumps rise on your arms. You didn't like it, the idea of bringing back a body instead of a living man. Especially with it being Joel. 

They gave him a sling to wear, instructing him to give the injury time to heal. You could tell he hated it. He just nodded his head at the nurses, and they shuffled out of the room. You stepped towards him then, as he stood from the bed. His shirt was still unbuttoned. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked. 

“Like I got kicked by a horse,” he replied, trying to feed the button through the hole at the top of his shirt. He growled in frustration when he failed. 

“Let me.” 

He did. You buttoned his shirt for him, top to bottom. “Dunno how I'm gonna get out of this later,” he murmured. 

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there,” you chirped. “Let's go get you something to eat, and some rest.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, but followed you all the same. 

•••

The next few weeks were difficult for Joel. He couldn't lift anything, or reach above him with his left arm, so he ended up spending most of his time with you at the stables while you cleaned out stalls and groomed the horses. You enjoyed this job, much more than when they put you on patrols. Horses were easier on you.

Joel wasn't much of a talker at first but neither were you. You enjoyed the company all the same. As his range of motion got better, and the sling finally became a thing of the past, he would help you with what he could.

“My uncle had a ranch,” he told you one day as he groomed. You were cleaning the stall. It had become a routine, you do the heavy lifting and he gets the horses cleaned while haltered just outside the stall. It worked for both of you. “Used to go there every weekend with Tommy up until I was a teenager.” 

He patted the horse on the neck as he brushed over its back. “Never really thought I'd ride again.” 

You nodded, leaning against the pitchfork as you wiped your sweating brow with the back of your arm. You had grown up around horses, your family owning a ranch out in butt fuck nowhere Utah. “I'm glad I get to work with them here,” you said. “Reminds me of home.”

Joel patted the horse again, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Me, too.” 

You smiled at the sight. You always tucked these little moments away, somewhere deep in your memory where you would access them late at night. Joel liked horses. Joel missed football. Joel wasn't always the best cook, but he liked to barbecue. Joel was protective of his family. And most of all, Joel liked you. 

•••

Joel was livid. Why? You didn't know, but you could see it all over him when he opened the door. You could hear it in his tone. 

“Now, what did I—” he stopped. It was only you. You swallowed, suddenly very on edge. 

“Hi, uh… I can—I can come back another time.” 

“No,” he responded, reaching to grab your shoulder as you step away. You pause, unsure of yourself. His hackles were starting to lower. He took a deep breath. “Please.” 

Please. 

You slowly nodded your head and stepped inside. He closed and locked the door behind you, and then without a word walked around you and into the kitchen. You followed. A beautiful aroma was wafting through the air, and you could hear Joel muttering to himself as he lifted a lid off the pot on the stove.

You were hesitant to say anything. You didn't want to push the already angry man. Against better judgment you asked, “What's for dinner?”

He didn't turn to face you. “Stew,” he said, putting the lid back on. “Only has a few more minutes. I was plannin’ on bringin’ you some.” 

You felt your cheeks warm. He had been thinking about you, and more specifically, thinking about bringing you something he made. You felt a soft smile pull at your lips. “That's kind of you.”

He grunted, and then looked over his shoulder at you. “At the door–I–well… Tommy and Maria just left.” 

You knew from your small conversations that Joel didn't like Maria. Maria didn't like Joel. Something must've happened between the two, you assumed, and decided not to push. Instead you walked closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“You alright?” 

He closed his eyes, sighing and then bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It'll be fine.” 

You nodded, opening your mouth to say something before your stomach growled loudly. Joel chuckled, turning to face you. “Someone's hungry.” 

You could feel yourself blush as you glanced away. His finger was there, hooking under your chin and pulling your face back towards him. “Hey now,” he said, a sudden softness in his eyes. His lips parted, and then closed, like he couldn't figure out what to say. His hand moved, cupping your cheek. The other went to grab your hip. You felt stiff in his arms. It was happening so quickly—maybe too quickly. He leaned forward, his nose bumping yours and asked, “Can I?” 

You felt yourself nod, and you swallowed thickly. All of the residual anger left his body as he leaned further into you, meeting your lips with his own. He was incredibly soft in his actions. He kissed you with a gentleness you didn't expect, and you couldn't help but sigh and bring your arms up to wrap around his middle as he held you in place.

He pulled back, and you leaned into him until he broke away completely. He was breathing hard and so were you. He kept his hands on you, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Let's eat,” he said with a small and genuine smile. You nodded, giving him a bright smile of your own. 

The stew was delicious and at the first bite you teared up. Your hand was on the table, under his, and he squeezed it tightly when he saw them bubbling up in your eyes. “Hey,” he murmured. “You alright?” 

You nodded, feeling embarrassed. “Yes, sorry… it tastes like my mom’s.” 

He slowly nodded back. “I used to make it for Tommy and… well. It was about the only damn thing I could make.”

He gave you a watery smile. It clicked in your brain, tonight must've been important for Joel to go out of his way to make something, especially something that clearly was nostalgic for him. You took another bite, savoring the memories it was bringing you, too. 

The two of you ate in silence, his hand not leaving yours. 

He took your bowl when you were done, putting it in the sink. You stayed sitting at the table as he got the food put away in the fridge. It was weird to watch him. It felt strangely domestic—strangely normal. Even with all the pain and loss you had experienced, moments like this made the world worth living for.

Joel walked back over to you, extending his hand to offer to help you stand. You took it and he pulled you up against him, planting another kiss on your lips. Your hands looped around the back of his neck. 

“You can say no,” he mumbled against your lips. “But if you want to come up to the bedroom with me, I'd sure like that.” 

You thought about the implication there. Joining Joel in the bedroom with no one else home. Your body tingled. Maybe it's what you both needed. You kissed him back with fervor before saying, “Okay.”

He stepped away, your hands slid down to his chest. His heart was pounding hard and fast under his shirt. He was nervous, you could see it in his eyes, feel it in the way his heart beat. He grabbed your hand with his, and led you upstairs. 

He sat down on the bed, his hands on your hips as he looked up at you. You stood between his legs, one hand on his right shoulder and the other behind his head, and you kissed him. Hard. He moaned into your mouth, and you gulped it down, feeling feverish. Your mouth opened when his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, and he invaded greedily. He was taking what was his. 

And you let him, your tongues caressing and exploring each other. He pulled away from you, and you whined in protest. He looked at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips. It made a wetness pool between your thighs as you looked down, seeing a string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

You felt encouraged, a fire blossoming in your chest. You brought your knees up onto the bed, straddling him. His hands came to your sides, running up and down them before squeezing your breasts. You gasped, arching your back into him. He grumbled about needing to get your shirt off, and in a heartbeat you were pulling it off over your head along with your bra. 

His lips found your nipple immediately, hot and sizzling on your skin. He sucked and pulled, working it with his tongue. You couldn't stop the moans he pulled from you, his large hands on your bare back searing into you. Your hands tangled in his hair, gripping tight enough that it probably stung. He groaned against you, vibrating into you. The sound went straight to your abdomen, causing tendrils of heat to grip your body. You shook in his arms.

Almost unnoticeably, he shook, too. 

He released your nipple with a loud ‘pop!’ and he kissed up your neck before rolling you both. You landed on your back, and he kissed his way down your sternum and soft stomach. You twitched under each touch. He grabbed the button and fly of your jeans, undoing them and pulling them off. You squirmed as he looked at you, fully aware of his gaze raking over your body. 

“You're beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your thigh as he settled between them. You felt your cheeks burn. Getting complimented by the gruff man made your toes curl. 

“Thank you,” you whispered back, fingers sliding back into his hair. 

He hummed as he took off your panties. You laid your head back, and he breathed against you. “Hey, look at me.”

You gasped as he licked through your folds and then you looked down at him like he asked of you. He hardly even blinked, drinking you in as he tasted you. Your eyebrows furrowed as he set a pace and pattern, swirling his tongue across your clit.

Your grip on his hair tightened, legs jerking, when he slid a thick finger into your pussy, sinking it knuckle deep and curling it. Another followed, causing you to groan his name. He hummed again, sucking your clit into his mouth. 

Joel's fingers curled, and then he pumped them in and out of you. Your hips bucked off the bed in response. His other hand came searching, reaching up for your nipple. He pinched it and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck you taste so damn good,” he growled. “Such a good girl.”

You clenched around his fingers in response, the praise going to your head and making you grin. Your head dropped back into the pillows as he continued his devoted and yet ruthless momentum. Your body tightened, like a coil ready to spring. You breathed harder, his name dripping from your lips over and over like honey. You grabbed onto him tighter, your heels digging into his back. 

“Cum,” he demanded, rutting his lower body into the bed. “Cum on my fingers, show me what a good girl you are.” 

Three more passes with his tongue and two more pumps of his fingers, and you were crashing into your orgasm. Joel groaned, almost louder than you, as you tightened around him. Your thighs slammed closed around his head as your other hand shot to the bed, bunching up the blanket under you. You bucked, you writhed, you cried his name, and your heart beat so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

He slowly pulled away from you as you came down, still twitching and whimpering. He smirked at you, licking his lips. Your wetness was all over his beard and mustache, and you shuddered as he climbed up. He positioned himself between your legs, the denim strained by how hard he was. He shifted his hips against you as he kissed you, making sure you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Joel,” you whined when he pulled his lips away. “Get out of these.” 

You grabbed his ass through his jeans, and he sat up, undoing the buttons of his shirt. He let it slide off of his shoulders and discarded it across the room. He made quick work if his pants, too, and then he was naked before you. His cock was curved up, swollen and thick, and he grabbed it with his hand, giving it a few pumps. 

“You ready?” He asked, touching your bruised clit with the head of his dick. You trembled, shaking like a leaf under him, but nodded all the same. He pushed himself into you slowly, giving you both time to adjust. He hissed out a small, “F-fuck.” 

Your hands shot to his arms, gripping them tightly as the pain of the large man stretching you open brought a lump to your throat. He leaned over you, keeping your head on his left side as he kissed and nuzzled your throat. “Mmm, so tight. You're doin’ such a good job for me.” 

You arched your back as he fully seated himself. You both breathed hard as he began to shift his hips back and forth. Your fingers dug into him, squeezing his arms tightly as he began to move harder and faster. The bed creaked underneath you as the sound of his body meeting yours echoed through the room.

He pulled his face away from your neck, looking down at you with eyes that burned into yours. Your eyebrows furrowed, your nails beginning to leave red trails across his skin before he sat up, your hands falling to your sides. He grabbed under your knees, pulling your legs up and over his shoulders. 

He leaned down again, pain sparked in your thighs at the delicious stretch, and you cried out louder and louder as he pounded into you. He hit so much deeper than before at this angle, pressing into just the right spots that had your legs trembling. 

Your next orgasm tore through you so hard and fast and that you couldn't even register Joel anymore. You were gone, floating in the pops of color that surrounded your vision when you closed your eyes. Your body tightened around him over and over again, forcing him to slow down. 

As you came down, you gulped in air, trying to tether yourself back to the physical world. His hips began snapping into you again, and your legs fell off of his shoulders. He wrapped them around his hips instead. His hand came to your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye.

“Good girl,” he murmured. 

You couldn't even form words, so instead you moaned in appreciation. His thrusts were heavy, slow and deep, pushing himself into you completely, and when he finally came, he pressed his forehead to yours and whimpered your name. 

Your hands found his sides and back, nails sliding across his ribs as he filled you up, his whole body jerking before finally relaxing against you. He sighed as you felt his heart beat, pounding against your chest, and then he kissed your temple before pulling out and rolling over next to you. 

You smiled to yourself as you looked at him, his eyes closed as he laid on his back. You felt completely satiated by him, and as you rolled over to cuddle close, you felt that spark from the first time you'd laid eyes on him. 

You were glad you tried.

‘this is fine…’ he thinks

that poor poor man…

snk comics o vo

I miss them….

Can you do that for me?

Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.

Wordcount: 4.2 k

Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.

AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIES🎀

Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"

"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."

The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.

Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.

Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.

He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"

The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."

The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.

The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."

The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.

She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.

With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.

She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.

She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.

In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.

Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.

All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.

The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.

Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.

"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.

"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."

A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."

And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.

Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.

His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.

"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"

Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"Good, good . . . " she moans.

While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."

A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."

He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."

He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.

"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"

His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "

Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.

"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."

His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.

He doesn't answer, he only obeys.

It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.

Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.

"Dont hold back," she says.

There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"

She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With mo further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.

Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.

The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.

He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.

With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.

"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.

"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.

"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.

"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.

He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.

Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.

Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.

She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.

"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawl iut orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.

"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they aached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she cannot reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.

As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.

After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.

"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.

She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.

His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.

Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.

"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.

"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.

She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.

They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.

All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.

She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.

Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.

He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.

Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"

His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had to–the hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."

Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.

"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."

"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seen–" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."

Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.

She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.

"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.

She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.

With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.

"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.

Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.

She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.

"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.

"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Certainly," he murmurs against them.

She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.

One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.

His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.

She squirms beneath his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.

With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.

She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.

Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.

"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.

She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.

Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."

Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.

He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.

"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.

Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.

Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.

She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.

He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.

She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.

Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.

She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.

He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.

His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.

A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeper–better than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"

He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.

Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."

His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.

With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.

"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.

Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.

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