#v;; sunk in the dark – ((depravity))

[penvisions]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word Count: 781

Warnings: filth, sloppy blow job, praise, pet names, joel is just a beautiful man okay, adult content, unprotected p in v, smut, oral (m receiving), pussy pronouns, soft dom! joel, eager sub! reader, reader has no description but has hair that can be pulled back easily

A/N: inspired by true events, excuse the v early morning queue for this utter depraved filth i jotted down before bed

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“You’re so god damn pretty.” You can only hum around the hard length of him, mouth stuffed full. One hand around the base of him, the other holding you steady as it spread over his massive thigh, soft hair there tickling your palm in the best way.

He moaned out at the feeling, his hands fighting where they fisted your hair and pulled it away from your face to see you better. It had fallen from where it was tucked behind your ears when you swallowed him down, the head of his cock sliding right into the back of your throat.

Rough palms and fingers caressed your face, hands reaching down past your bare shoulders to tweak a hardened nipple had you relaxing your jaw to feel all of him, drool pooling at the base of him from your lips, trailing down to the soft skin of his balls. But when he moved to mirror the action with the other one, he pinched hard.

Gasping hard the shining, slick weight of his cock slipped from your mouth.

A throaty chuckle sounded in the air, glazed eyes taking in the beautiful sight of him sprawled out before you. His dark eyes watching the strand of spit that connected your bottom to the head of his ruddy cock. God, it was so pretty.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't ya darlin'?"

"Mhm," Is all you can manage as you pant, looking up from between his thighs. He thumbed at your bottom lip, breaking the line of bubbling spit that kept you connected to him. Sucking the digit into your mouth, you hummed again. Words not working, mind not thinking. All you knew at that moment was Joel, Joel, Joel.

You licked, from the messy base of him all the way to his leaking slit with a flattened tongue, enjoying how the broken grunt from his plush lips lit you up. You were bare, your own arousal pooling in your core and shining on your thighs, clit jolting at every move, every sound, every sensation of moving together with him in this intimate way. Heat enveloping you as it burned underneath your skin.

You gripped him tight, pumping him a few times before you opened your lips wide and swallowed him down once again. Bobbing your head, you felt him hit the back of your throat with every nuzzle of your face into the soft bush of hairs that his cock was nestled in.

“Fuck, you gotta let me- she must be cryin’ for me. I gotta feel her squeezin’ me,” With a dirty pop, you released him from your mouth, kissing your lips to the velvet soft hardness you had come to crave. He sighed at the softness of you, the way you seemed so completely lost to anything but him at the moment. And he reveled in it.

"Best I ever had, so pretty and such a good listener." His arms hooked underneath your shoulders, helping to pull you up and into his lap.

Hands gripping tight to your hips, his fingers sunk into the give of your ass, making him moan at how well you filled them. With a whine, you rutted against him. Your outer lips, slick with your own arousal and the spit from your mouth allowing him to glide through them. The head of his cock caught on the hood of you, clit taking all the pressure and you cried out.

“She can take it, we know she can, don’t we?” Joel ground his hips up, rocking himself against you hard enough to send white sparks on the backside of your eyelids.

“I want you to look at me while she takes it, be a good girl for me.” Your eyes flew open to heed his command, feeling him reach down to take ahold of himself. He tapped himself against your clit, the wet smack of it jolting you into an arch. But you didn’t dare break your eyes away from his. “Such a pretty girl, so good for me.”

Head prodding, you could feel him breech, stretching you with just that little part. He slowly filled you up, hand still on your hip guiding you to lower onto him. Your lashes fluttered when your hips settled flush over his own. His teeth bared as he felt you clench, a twitch deep in you in response and then suddenly he was pulling you to him, cradling your upper body as he got his feet underneath him and began to pound up into you.

Crying out, your hands locked around his neck. Bare chests pressed together as the wet smack of skin on skin filled the bedroom.

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @littlemisspascal @morallyinept @undercoverpena @joelsgreys

[doobler]

Monster AU - The Lich King

"Hey."

Ryan looked up, eyes wide. Michael loomed over him and the very air seemed to escape out of the room. He put away the knife he was sharpening and sat up straight. This was the first time in weeks that the oldest Lad had said a single word to Ryan. After showing his true malicious form, Michael acted like he didn't even exist.

"Michael. What's up?"

"You're old, right?"

Ryan tilted his head slightly, trying to smother the look of utter confusion on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Like. Real fucking old?"

"... Old as time itself. Why?"

Michael inhaled deep through his nose, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. From his low angle, Ryan could see a vein beginning to bulge in his neck.

"I need your help with something." Michael replied after a moment.

"... What kind of help?"

Slowly, the façade faded. Michael's body shimmered out of existence, exposing the stark ivory bones underneath. The pits of his eye sockets lit up with a crimson glow. His bones rattled faintly as he stood up taller, his teeth grinding as his eyes shined brighter. Power emanated from his stance.

"I need you to tell me where the fucker that did this to me is. So I can fucking kill his ass."

-----

Ryan wasn't a fan of getting caught and Geoff's lectures. At his request, he and Michael moved to the roof to remain out of earshot. Michael seemed intent to remain in his natural form.

"Where's this coming from all of a sudden?" Ryan kept his voice low out of habit.

"I've been thinking," Michael focused his gaze on the horizon, soaking in the beauty of Los Santos at midnight. "If you're so fucking... Chaotic and dark and whatever and you're old as fuck, you gotta know which Lich did this shit to me. I wasn't the only one, I know there are others. You have to know."

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, a heavy sigh punching out of his chest. He wracked his memory, millennia upon millennia of information. I didn't take long to recall which Lich and where he was with the utmost confidence. Creatures of that nature very rarely did a good job lying low.

"... What if I do know?"

"Hah! I fucking knew it!" Despite not having visible eyebrows or facial tissues, Michael's eyes seemed to narrow accusingly. "You do know."

"And?"

"And what? I'm gonna fucking murder that piece of shit."

"You can't--"

"Geoff told me how to kill a Lich."

Ryan held his breath, mulling it over. On one hand, he was immortal, as was Michael. Liches were powerful but they had a weakness. For all he knew, Michael had none. On the other hand, the accursed facing their cursers usually spelled trouble. The conflict could end in doom for both parties. Plus, it was Michael after all. He'd no doubt make Ryan swear not to interfere so he could regain his honor and secure victory by his own design. Ryan's own immortality was inconsequential.

"Fine. I'll help. But only on one condition."

Michael couldn't physically grin but the light of the city shifted somehow, making it appear like he was.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to write something for me."

-----

Geoff made his way from room to room like he always did every night. He checked on Jack, dropping a soft kiss on the Gent's cheek while he read. He popped into Gavin's room, trying to ignore the horrible mess, and wished him good night. He ducked into Jeremy's room, admiring the Lad's current project (spray painting every weapon he owned a hideous Rimmy Tim palette), and smiled against the younger man’s lips.

When he looked into Ryan's room, he wasn't surprised to find it empty. He was either moping in the shadows or out, both of which were normal.

However, Michael not being in his room this late at night was suspicious.

"Mikey?"

Geoff crept inside, a sense of dread filling his chest. Michael's room was immaculate as per usual, his bed perfectly made, his desk free of clutter, his closet neat and organized. The whole room smelled faintly like lavender.

Sitting on the bed was a sheet of paper. Geoff picked it up and began to read.

"Dear whoever the fuck finds this,

This could be the last thing I ever write. Ryan and I are going to find that Lich cunt and pound him into dust. I don't know if killing him will break my curse or kill me too so Ryan made me write this like a final will and testament.

My time with the Fakes has easily been the highlight of my life. I've never felt like I was a part of a family as I have here. Falling in love five times over was also pretty clutch. You guys never made me feel like I was lesser, like I was a freak. This has always been a home to me and always will be. Even if this kills me, my heart and soul will stay with the Crew. If I'm able to haunt you fuckers, you know I will.

All my stuff should be divided fairly between all of you. I do want Gavin to have my rocket launcher and Jeremy can have that leather jacket I always wear, but everything else is free game. If my bones stay behind, I want Ryan to do some magic space demon shit with it, make matching bone necklaces or something.

I have no regrets, except maybe not saying how much I love you guys nearly as much as I should have. For that, I'm sorry.

Your friendly neighborhood skeleton,

Michael V. Jones"

Geoff grit his teeth, fear and apprehension stabbing its way into his chest. He contemplated telling the others but that would only cement the idea that Michael would fail. Instead, Geoff folded up the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, right above his heart.

"I'll reach into the pits of hell, drag you out, and slap the ever-loving fuck outta you if you don't come back," Geoff uttered like a prayer. "That's an god-damned fact."

-----

Michael was floating.Up, down, left, right, forward and back. None of it existed. There was only the never ending darkness, swirling like a smokey miasma around him.

A strip of light suddenly cut through the curtain of black. Michael steered himself towards it, peering through the gap. There was a barren cliff with sad looking grass overlooking a massive Gothic castle. Michael hopped through the break and landed on his feet.

"That was simultaneously really awesome and fucking horrifying," Michael gasped, trying to calm the quake in his bones. "I could see the end of the fucking universe in there."

Ryan shrunk back into his human form, dusting off plumes of inky smog from his body.

"Yeah there's a reason why I don't make you guys travel like that. I wasn't really designed to be a taxi service."

"So where are we?"

Ryan walked to the edge of the cliff, sinking onto his haunches. He studied the castle below, eyes darting in all directions.

"Pretty sure we're in Germany, somewhere around Schwartzwald. I think," Ryan sniffed at the air, as if the smell would give him an answer. "Fuckers like this one prefer the dark and gloomy and isolated aesthetic. No better place for that than the Black Forest."

Michael nodded, pretending that he understood. Ryan stretched out his arm and pointed to the heart of the castle, just below ground.

"There's a massive room right in the center. He's there, right in the middle."

Something akin to a growl escaped Michael's mouth.

"He's doing it all over again," Michael snarled. He unsheathed the sword he'd brought, his grip making the leather handle groan. "Pulling in fighters and damning them to a life of pain, all for some fucked up depraved entertainment."

Before Ryan could stop him, Michael lept off the cliff, landing hundreds of feet bellow without breaking a sweat. He marched his way through waist high greying grass and scraggly foliage, an aura of rage blossoming from his body. Ryan sighed, dragging a hand down his face before hopping down to join him.

"Michael, slow the fuck down," Ryan called, jogging to keep up. "There's no need to storm the castle, I can phase us through the ground."

Michael stopped in his tracks, holding out his hand without looking back. Ryan shed his human form once again, becoming a swirling mass of smoke. He enveloped the undead skeleton like a smoggy blanket, clipping through the ground and sinking deep deep below. It didn't take long before they broke through soil, bursting out of a layer of stone into the clearing beneath the castle.

It looked just as Michael imagined it would. Cylindrical in shape, the room was wide and immensely tall. The walls were made of dark stone while the floor was only dirt. At one curve of the room was an ornate throne, built high with the bones of fallen warriors.

The Lich.

"You return to me at last, mighty Mogar," The Lich's voice was like nails on a chalkboard, grinding clawed fingers on the edges of your soul. "I have been waiting for the return of a warrior of your caliber--"

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, YOU CUNT SON OF A BITCH!!!"

Michael screamed, whipping out his sword and charging. The Lich raised his hand and a small legion of skeletal fighters rose from the dirt. Michael didn't stop, batting away the first few swings with no effort at all. He ducked under one blade, parrying the next, his bones illuminated by flying sparks. Ryan made to join the fight, only to stop when Michael yelled.

"Stay the fuck back, Haywood!" He bellowed, kicking one of the undead square in the chest. "This is my fight!"

Ryan sighed. He stayed in his natural form, keeping himself small and fading into the shadows to watch close by. The Lich stared him down, no doubt sensing his overwhelming presence.

"You've brought me an Elder?" The Lich croaked, raising a boney finger towards Ryan. "I will accept this mighty gift and retain immortality."

"This is between you and me, bitch!" Michael yelled back, landing an upward stroke of his sword. "The only gift I've brought is gonna be my sword in your fucking throat!"

Michael stood firm, knocking back every hit thrown his way. He didn't flinch when a flail barely missed his head, nor when an arrow sang through the air and sunk into his femur. He kept his stride, making short work of his enemies. They kept coming, though, the crowd thickening the closer he came to the throne. Ryan slowly edged forward, making sure he was nearby in case the tide turned.

"I'm gonna free all these bastards' souls!" Michael called over the roar of battle. Another arrow lodged itself into his clavicle. "They're gonna be free of your curse and you're gonna turn to fucking dust!"

Michael didn't land a single blow on the warriors, firmly playing defense. It took Ryan a while to figure out his strategy. When he did, a tremor ran through his heart.Michael didn't want to harm the fallen warriors that were like him.He took arrow after arrow, staggering under the few blows that landed. A massive crack spiderwebbed down his pelvis. Thick black blood oozed from his wounds. He kept going, his head held high, his eyes burning like twin suns in their sockets.

Finally, Michael was at the throne.

He stood up tall, an air of pride keeping him still as stone.

"Any last words, motherfucker?" Michael growled, raising his sword. The fallen behind him slunk back into the dirt, defeated. "I've been waiting 1600 years for this, feel free to take your time and think up something smart."

"You could never kill me," The Lich cackled, wheezing like a bitter gale. "I created what you are, molded you, defined you. I gave you purpose. I gave you immortality. Slaying me would mean bringing an end to what has come to be what and who you are. I am your god, your savior, your patriarch. Smite me and your whole sense of being will b--"

Michael rushed forward, sliding his sword between the Lich's mummified ribs. He broke through the gem around his neck, shattering the vessel that held his very soul.

The Lich let loose an unholy wail, screeching into the night as he contorted and twisted erratically. Ryan swooped in, pulling Michael back a few steps. They watched as the Lich crumbled into powder, collapsing into himself, sucked into the shattered gem, and clattered to the ground with a harmless clink.

"Damn. That was some Lord of the Rings shit."

Michael looked at his hands, flipping them over and over. His boney visage didn't change. His curse remained.However, there was a lingering and unfamiliar lightness in his chest. He looked down, amazed to find something pounding softly in his rib cage. It glowed like a tiny star, pure white and sparkling.

"Your soul," Ryan whispered, leaning in to admire it. "Been a while since Ive seen one of these. It's fucking beautiful, Michael."

"My soul?" The Lad echoed. He lifted his hand, dipping it into his chest. When his fingers phased through the glimmering ball, a tingly warmth spread through his bones. "So... I'm free?"

"Yeah," Ryan smiled, a faint twinkle in his eyes. "You're free."

-----

Together, the duo soared out of the castle, returning to the cliff where they'd first arrived. Michael stepped out of Ryan's fog, sitting down and dangling his legs over the ledge.

"I wish those other guys had taken my offer," Michael thought allowed. "We could've easily gotten them all out. They have their whole lives to live."

"I think many of them are too old and tired now," Ryan replied, sitting next to him. "That castle has been their home for centuries. I'm sure they'd rather just. Fade away."

Michael hummed softly, looking down at his hands again. His body seemed lighter than it had in over a thousand years. He truly felt free.

"I... Owe you an apology," Michael sighed, finally looking Ryan in the eye. "I've been leading you on like a real douche bag."

"Don't even mention it," Ryan beamed. "I understand. I... Was hiding myself from you guys. People who love each other don't keep such huge secrets like that."

"No, I mean. I wasn't ever really mad at you," Michael huffed, looking away. "Geoff and Jack explained that you're nothing like a Lich, you're... Like this super powerful magic space demon. You were born from the dark matter of the universe and used the natural flow of magic in reality to give yourself a soul. Liches are... Sick disgusting fucks, greedy Necromancers who won't even let death itself control them. You and them are nothing alike. It was a real dick move of me to act like you were similar just so you'd help me."

Ryan blinked in shock. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at the deception, however. He decided a while ago that the best way to advance was to come to a state of understanding and simply move on.

"I love you as much as I love the other guys," Michael turned back. The illusion of a smile played on his skull. "You're a real salty piece of shit sometimes and your stubbornness makes me wanna scream but... You're such a good person and I love you despite your flaws."

With a gentle smile, Ryan leaned in, pressing his lips against Michael's teeth. He'd never kissed the Lad like this before. His bones were warm somehow, the sensation like kissing a smooth stone that'd been left under the sun. The kiss was chaste, melting into several more before he pulled away. Ryan tried not to stare as Michael's soul glowed brighter for a moment.

"That... Was surprisingly nice." Michael whispered.

He leaned in again and Ryan met him halfway. The Gent shed his human form, making Michael laugh. The logistics of a human skull and a deer-like shadowy being kissing were odd but still worked by some divine miracle. They stayed that way for a while until the tawny fingers of dawn curled over the horizon.

"Alright, ok," Michael snickered, pulling away. He'd wound up halfway swallowed up by Ryan's smokey body and laughed when the Gent shrank back. "We should get home before Geoff has a fucking aneurysm."

Ryan nodded, standing upright. His body expanded, a void opening up inside. Faintly, deep within, Michael could see a window to the penthouse. He dipped a hand into the portal, steeling himself.

"Remember," Ryan echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "I'm always here for you, Mogar."

Michael let out a childlike giggle. His old name sounded so foreign now.

"I know." He replied and let the familiar darkness swallow him whole.