#I get yelled at and it's like fucking water torture

[david-watts]

gonna get screamed at for wanting to eat again :) like ok if I make myself a sandwich like I want to. I will be in massive amounts of trouble for using the fresh bread since well that's the only bread available aside from english muffins which I don't want to use because I actually respect the fact my m*ther bought those for herself and she rarely gets to eat most of them when she does that. I will also probably get called a pig. but if I make myself something else I will get in trouble because 'you ate such a big meal for lunch' and get called a pig again. literally cannot win

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna loves to show off his moves to his crush aka his best friend (feat. Boxer!Toji)

Notes: sukuna is a jealous little hoe, Toji finds reader attractive, Pre-relationship, fem!reader (she/her), depictions of fighting so read at your own discretion. Uraume is a nonchalant baddie. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you all.

masterlist

Thump!

A gloved fist lands against Sukuna’s tattooed cheek as he stumbles back into the boxing ring’s roped borders.

He quickly flicks off the sweat dripping down from his nose to his upper lips and gets back into fighting stance. His opponent / friend, Toji Fushiguro, smirks at him as he bounces in his spot, bracing for what’s to come.

“You’re boring me here, Ryomen!” The raven haired man barked from the opposite end of the ring. “Quit fightin’ like a pissy little boy and hit me like a man!” He further taunted his opponent.

Sukuna leaped from his spot and swung his arm only for Toji to dodge him with a duck and attack his legs.

“Fuck!” Sukuna yelled out as he fell down. His body bounced against the ground, force acting against him.

“Time out!” Coach Yaga yelled out. Toji removed his gloves and took off his helmet, lending out a helping hand to Sukuna.

Sukuna stared at Toji’s calloused hands and back at him. His glare deepened with every heavy breath he took.

He could not stop thinking about the conversation he had with Toji in the gym locker room a few days ago.

“She your girl?” Toji asked as he applied another heat patch to his sore shoulder.

“Who?” Sukuna asked while he packed his gym bag.

“The girl you came in with today. You know, the one who wouldn’t stop talking.” Toji chuckled as he said that. Sukuna’s eyes momentarily flickered away from Toji has he remembered how you were going off on a tangent about your favorite show.

“Nah, why do you wanna know?”

“I wanna take her out.” Sukuna’s hand froze after hearing Toji’s answer.

It never occurred to Sukuna that other men wanted to talk to you. He always thought that he was the only man in your life even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two.

But then again, Sukuna had made it his mission to drive away any man that even showed a shred of romantic attention towards you. It was easy for him since he was a well known boxer that could probably smash concrete with one punch if he tried.

It was his favorite thing about being so strong.

However, it wasn’t going to work in this case. Not when his opponent was on par with him.

“You don’t get it, man. She’s not that kinda girl. She’s the relationship type and you hate all that commitment stuff.”

“I wouldn’t ask to date your friend if I wanted to leave her high and dry. I’m ready to do all that redemption shit now. I wanna get serious.”

Sukuna’s blood boiled at the thought of Toji even looking in your direction. What made him think that you would even say yes? You had hardly ever said three sentences to the man (the sentences being “hi, Toji,” “bye, Toji,” and “where’s sukuna?”)

But he also knew what Toji was like in the ring. A relentless fighter that was always ready to improve where he lacked. And he also knew what you were like.

All he could do was hope that you’d reject Toji.

“Do whatever you want. Fuck do I care about?” Sukuna shoved in his shower gel in his bag and stomped out of the room.

He pushed Toji’s hand away and walked out the ring to hydrate himself. Toji mumbled a quick “asshole” before heading out towards his water bottle right outside the fight room.

“You were exceptionally bad today. I believe there must be something emotionally affecting you.” His manager (more like henchman), Uraume said as they handed him a bottle of sugar free Gatorade.

“Fuck off.” Sukuna tiredly said as his leaned back into the leather couch facing the ring. The spotlights above him burned his retinas but his mind kept him distracted with thoughts about you.

The way you laughed at his banter with Uraume, the way you’d comfort him after lost matches, the way you’d stare at him with your arms crossed when he’d forget to text you.

Like you were doing now.

“Some nerve of you to leave me on read last night.” You huffed out in anger. Sukuna immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes. You were definitely real and standing in front of him.

You looked positively adorable with a pout on your face and your foot tapping angrily on the ground. If Sukuna didn’t have any self control, his lips would’ve been planted on yours right now.

“You said you’d bring me to the gym to watch your practice match and then forgot to tell me when your match was!”

You were lucky to have Uraume’s number and contacted them to get to the gym yourself.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up-“

“Hey, nice to see you.” Toji sauntered around you, interrupting Sukuna. “This creep giving you any trouble?” Toji sneered with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, in fact, he promised that I could watch today’s match but didn’t even bother picking me up.” You complained to Toji, who was towering above you.

Sukuna could practically see Toji’s blood rush to his ears. The man was smitten and it irritated him to see that.

“Toji, get the fuck out of here. We’re having a private conversation.”

“She literally aired your dirty laundry in front of me, man. There was no privacy to begin with.” You let out a small laugh at Toji’s response and he proudly beamed in your direction.

Sukuna was going to further defend himself, stating that it was a conversation between best friends but Coach Yaga was quick to swoop in with smacks to both the boxers’ heads to resume their match.

The men went towards the ring, ducking under the ropes as they entered. Sukuna needed your eyes on him no matter what. So he did what he thought was best- take his compression tank off.

His chest gleamed with sweat as he threw the piece of clothing out the ring. The tank accidentally landed on Uraume’s face and their body began to shudder in anger. You grimaced at the sight as you used your pointer finger and thumb to pluck off the sweaty garment from their head.

Sukuna’s face turned red out of embarrassment

“Sorry, dude.” Great, he was supposed to look sexy but he ended up making a fool of himself.

“You know what? keep fighting like a little kid. I wanna make sure I win in front of the pretty lady before I ask her out.” Toji whispered in Sukuna’s ear before he wore his mouth guard.

The tattooed man was seething. There were so many emotions affecting him at the same time- anger, jealousy, sadness, and insecurity.

But then all of that was erased when he saw you intently looking at him while you stood next to an irritated Uraume. Not to mention, you were still holding his sweaty compression tank like it wasn’t something that would disgust any other person.

Sukuna wasn’t feeling as defeated as anymore. In fact, there was a new surge of energy in him when he saw you standing outside the ring with hopeful eyes.

He had an advantage over Toji because right now, the one you were rooting for was him. Not his green eyed opponent.

You were here to see him win. You were here to see your man- okay, best friend who’s a man, win.

And he wasn’t going to disappoint you.

Coach Yaga blew his whistle and both men began walking in circles, eyes staring into one another’s to predict their opponent’s next move.

Sukuna remembered to always wait for the opponent to make the first blow so he could dodge them. This way, he’d be able to expend their energy and use their one second of being distracted to his advantage.

Toji did exactly as he predicted and he countered his punch with a hit to his chin. You gasped and Sukuna could see you smile in his peripheral view (maybe he was imagining it but whatever. To him, you were smiling while he punched Toji).

Toji growled as his body moved backwards but he got back into position quickly and charged at Sukuna with a punch but Sukuna crossed his arms to dodge the blow. He wanted to hit but needed an in somehow. He began to think long and hard as he dodged Toji’s incoming punches.

His eyes momentarily landed on you and he couldn’t help but think about Toji kissing you after your date, his non-tattooed, muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Your breasts pushed against his chest as you gasped for air.

He imagined Toji taking you home, sleeping in the same bed as you. Patting your head as you fall asleep.

Sukuna could not let that happen. As selfish as he was, he could not let his sparring mate take away the one thing that mattered most in his life- you.

He landed punch after punch to Toji’s ribs and you excitedly clapped at the sight. The sound of your hands only further fueled Sukuna’s fury as he continued to batter Toji.

The fight went on for a quite a while, neither fighter giving in to losing. But by now, Toji had been punched the most and was beginning to lose his balance.

Coach Yaga’s shrill whistle squeaked and the match stopped before Toji could be rendered immobile. You wanted to feel bad for the man when you saw all the bruises on his face and body but you could help but smile when you looked at Sukuna. He wasn’t smiling but the look on his face showed he was satisfied.

Sukuna turned to find you smiling and he mirrored your expression.

Yeah, there was no way he was going to let you go. He was going to win every fight against Toji whether if it was in ring or for your heart.

-•-

I’m just adding lore to Sukuna and Toji’s rivalry in both boxing and pursuing the reader.

[cameronwillow]

Soulmates.

R.C x fem reader

Your long term boyfriend John B cheats on you with his soulmate, Sarah Cameron. And you decide you need revenge. And what better way than with the man he hates most? Rafe Cameron.

Thank you anon for requested this uploaded again!

C.W: Cheating, oral fem recieving, (I think that’s it)

Being cheated on by your long term boyfriend was hard enough, losing a friend group was another heartbreak. John B and you had been together since you’d graduated high school. After you moved here from a small town in the south during your sophomore year. You stuck out like a sore thumb with your hyper feminine clothing and routine.

You carried around a purse with the essentials, wallet, phone, taser and lipstick. You were a senior in college now, going for law school and you had come to your shared apartment with a gift for John B. Grinning, you opened the door but the box fell out of your hold at the sight of him laying on the floor naked with Sarah Cameron.

Your face dropped and they both scrambled to cover up. You stood in silence for a few seconds before John B began babbling words,

“It just happened, I didn’t know she was my soulmate, it just appeared and I was going to tell you tonight-“

That fucking unfortunate information sent you into a rage. You screamed, threw things, even chased after John B with your purse until you managed to calm down. The tears sprang on but you willed yourself to leave. He offered to move out but you couldn’t accept.

It held too many memories so here you were. Crying while shoving a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth, looking at your old friend group with John B and Sarah Cameron. It was a self destructive path, to doom scroll and torture yourself with the photos of them showing their tattoos.

The soulmate bond was uncontrollable. Once the connection was formed, matching tattoos appeared on your ring fingers. The image itself was the moon cycle when the bond sealed. This phenomenon was ancient. Viewed as old school, disregarded even here in the outer banks. You had been with John B and the Pogues so long, it didn’t matter to you that the official bond didn’t come.

You isolated yourself in your childhood bedroom at your parent’s home. They were on vacation, celebrating their anniversary so you couldn’t even have their comfort during the breakup. Sniffling, you flipped over on your side and curl into a ball.

Fuck him, you thought angrily. He couldn’t have had the decency to break it off. Tell you before betraying the history you had together. Sarah Cameron was the middle child of a family as close to royalty as they came here. She was known to rebel against her Kook father and step mother as she graduated high school years ago. You never were friends, friendly at best if you ran into her after leaving your shift as a barista.

He couldn’t get away with this. Neither could the Pogues choosing his side and excluding you. Your jaw set as you stared at the wall, an idea forming. It was extremely petty. Risky and could lead to a dramatic fall out. However, if it was done right, it would be satisfying.

You felt like a fish out of water. Wearing a light colored dress, makeup applied and hair up as you approached your target. Rafe Cameron.

He was the oldest of the Cameron’s, a few years above you with a bad reputation. Bad temper, abrasive personality and instilled fear into many. However, one thing he was, a smart businessman.

While your parents were Pogues, your grandparents were Kooks. Making your childhood and teenage years a little less harsh than your old friends. You got invited to some parties, had some level of respect that other Pogues didn’t.

This made you feel a little more confident to give Rafe the proposal you had in mind as you strutted forward. He came to an expensive Brunch spot in between meetings with his laptop. Mostly because he wasn’t allowed to yell in a public place without consequences.

You hadn’t seen him in person in a while and he didn’t post a lot of photographs of himself. His buzzcut a new accessory and he wore casual clothes. Rafe typed away, not noticing you until you stopped at his table.

His brows furrowed at your shadow and then his blue eyes lifted. Rafe sat back a little, a ghost of a smirk curling his lip and he scanned you. Openly checking you out and his gaze lingered on your exposed skin.

“Hey,” He said your name with a nod and you cleared your throat. You couldn’t lose your nerve now.

“Hey. Do you have a minute? Can I talk to you?” You ripped the bandaid off and Rafe glanced at his computer.

“Yeah, I can talk for a bit.” He shut the laptop, gesturing expectantly at the chair across from him for you to sit.

You sat down, back straight and set your hands on the table. Fingers splayed and he glanced at them. He noticed the bare skin, no tattoo.

“I’m assuming this is about John B.” Rafe offered and you winced. “Yeah, heard you uh, really freaked out.” he had laughter in his voice and you glared at him.

“He deserved it. So did your little sister.” Rafe didn’t seem to care for that but you pressed on, “And he shouldn’t get away unscathed. Neither of them should.”

Rafe hummed and leaned forward. Elbows on the table and exposing his muscles. He waved his hand, encouraging you to finish. “Well? Spit it out.”

“What if we pretend to date?” You said quickly, “Just to get under their skin. They all dropped me and I want them to see I’m doing good. Better than good. With the person they hate.”

Rafe snorted and then openly laughed. He smoothed his hand over his face and your jaw tightened.

“I’m glad you think this is funny because I don’t. I walked in on the man I love fucking your sister and you think that’s entertaining?” Your voice was raising and Rafe shushed you.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

You perked up, tilting your head but he held up a hand.

“But there’s gonna be conditions.” He declared and you sank into the chair. “Don’t pout. You don’t even know what they are.”

You kept quiet as Rafe assessed you with a hint of curiosity. “Conditions are, this is just pretend, don’t get attached to me,” the roll of your eyes did nothing to halt his sentence, “We don’t embarrass each other and lastly, I’m not doing this as a just a favor.”

You held your breath, waiting and Rafe brushed his nose with the knuckle of his finger.

“I get to taste you. At least one time.”

Sighing, you snorted. “That’s it? You want to kiss me?”

Rafe blinked at you in a condescending way. “No. I don’t kiss someone unless I like them. Maybe. I mean taste your pussy.”

Your glossy lips parted and hackles raised on the back of your neck. You didn’t immediately answer. Was it unreasonable? Not necessarily. It wasn’t like he mentioned actually fucking you. It was rude. But this was Rafe Cameron. You were asking him to help you with ridiculous revenge and if you got to cum once out of it, then you could live with that.

“Why that specifically? I’d expect you to want a blow job.”

Rafe exhaled and for the first time, he lost a glint of confidence but it returned just as quickly. “I like to be in control. And you’d be getting your pussy eaten, so why the hesitation?”

It wasn’t much of an answer but you decided your fate. Extending your hand, fingers decorated with delicate rings and Rafe met your grip. Shaking it firmly.

“Deal.”

“Good. Luck would have it, I could use a guest at the grand opening of a new business tonight. I’ll pick you up at five. We can take a picture together. Post it and all that shit girls do.”You let go of his hand with a gasp. It was already noon.

“What? That’s not enough time to get ready!” Rafe opened his laptop again, continuing whatever he was doing previously. “Better get going then.”

Growling in the back of your throat, you stomped away. You hoped John B and the crew regretted it as soon as possible because you couldn’t deal with the insufferable man long.

You were a half step from throwing a full tantrum when you rushed out of the house. Normally you had days in advance to prepare for an event. It took you almost forty minutes to pick an outfit. You hopped around on one foot as you slipped on a different pair of heels and Rafe opened the passenger door from the inside.

His blue eyes were light with amusement and he gave you an appreciative once over. “It’s a grand reveal of a business. Didn’t know you needed a ballgown for that.”

You snarled and slammed the door shut after landing in a heap in the seat.

“Hey, watch the door. This car was fucking expensive.” Rafe hissed but you rolled your eyes and turned your body away from him.

“I’m sure you have another one,” You looked at your pink polish on manicured fingernails. Rafe reached over and turned up his music. You made a face of distain and he snorted.

“What? What sort of awful pop music do you listen to?”

“Oh? Making assumptions are we?” You perked up and Rafe nodded before handing you his phone.

“Play something then if it keeps you from breaking my car.” You make a face at him and select a song from one of your favorite bands.

Rafe jolted slightly at the sound of explosive metal playing, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and fear. You crossed your legs and sighed in contentment.

“You’re kidding. Bubblegum princess likes screamo?” You nod along and mouth the lyrics, ignoring his little comment. Rafe doesn’t turn it off but keeps driving.

Minutes after a car ride of loud music and awkward tension, Rafe gets out of the car and you gather the material of your dress. He opens the side door, extending a hand while glancing at your heels.

“Shall we?” Accepting, Rafe sets his hand on your lower back, slowing his pace to match you as you enter the modern building. Big windows, clean smells, sharp cut designs and workers carrying trays of small portioned food. Glasses of alcohol and men wearing suits looking skeptical over the shine of the floor.

Everyone turned to look at you both stepping inside. Focusing on his contact on your body but they quickly shifted into greetings. No doubt to keep their positions. You plastered on pleasant listening expressions and let Rafe do all the talking.

You accepted a glass of champagne to keep yourself occupied as the time went on. Rafe knew his work well. You’d never heard him sound so sure of himself.

When he wasn’t occupied, you pulled out your phone. Opening the camera and picking out your favorite filter. Rafe gave his typical selfie face, bending down slightly to meet you more comfortably but you scowled and turned to him.

“If this is gonna work, you have to look like you like me.” Rafe remained still for a few seconds and then dipped down to press a kiss to your cheek. You quickly reached back up to snap the moment and made yourself remain calm as Rafe wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, tugging you close to him.

You took a couple of photos, feeling your skin on fire as he pulled away. His lips faintly covered in blush makeup. “We good?”

You looked at the selfies, mildly impressed at how genuine they looked and you noticed how Rafe had the smallest smile as he kissed your cheek.

“Yeah. Those look good. Thank you. I’m gonna post them.” You began uploading them on instagram and Rafe waited until they finished loading. He set his hand on your phone.

“Time for your end of the deal when this is over and I take you home.” You gulped but resigned. You agreed and fair was fair.

You made yourself keep your phone off until you were safe in your room. Rafe played his ridiculous fuck boy music as he drove you home and you pressed both thighs together tightly. You were nervous. Unsure why though. Rafe was hot and you were fully benefiting from this but it was the idea of eating your pussy was his reward. Sure, John B seemed to like it but never asked for it. You tapped your fingers along the beat of the song as he pulled into the driveway and shut it off.

You opened your legs, pulling up your dress and Rafe seized your knee. Squeezing firmly.

“Hold on. I’m gonna take you inside at least. I’m not a complete asshole.”

“Just get it over with.” You spoke and kept your eyes on the garage door. He caught your chin between his fingers, turning your head towards him.

“Nah, we’re gonna do it my way and it’s the right one. Besides, we wouldn’t be comfortable in my car. I’m too tall.”

“Brag much?” You glanced anywhere but his eyes and Rafe clicked his tongue.

“Don’t act all shy now, sweetheart. Show me inside like you have some manners.”

You carried your heels as you walked ahead, letting Rafe in your childhood home and into your bedroom. He looked around, lifting things up and started to open drawers.

You smacked his hand. “Stop it. Don’t mess anything up.”

Rafe caught your wrist, lightly tossing you to the bed and you squeaked as he mounted you. He had taken off his suit jacket but left everything else on. The look in his eyes held lust and a primal energy that had you breathless. His warm rough palms were heavy as he lifted your dress, admiring the curves of your hips and legs. Rafe ran his fingers along the material of your panties, smirking at the dampness growing in the center and he nudged your legs wider.

“You wanna know why I really wanna do this?” Even though it was a question, you didn’t answer and just stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Because I want you to know what whatever John B did with his cock is pathetic compared to me. I can make you cum harder with just my mouth than anything he ever did.”

Rafe grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, slapping his hands in your inner thighs and you gasped. Overwhelmed by his words and actions you were too distracted to protest.

He pulled your panties to the side, aggressively pinning your legs down with his forearms but he surprised you with his gentle way of kissing your pelvis. You whimpered, nipples hardening as he worked his way down and opened his mouth when he reached your pussy.

Rafe groaned, inhaling deeply so he could enjoy the smell of you and starting messily making out with your cunt. Your breathing was sharp, hands instinctively reaching for his head as he spread you even further and sucked your clit between his lips.

He wasn’t shy at all, his sharp jawline bumping your ass as Rafe licked the underside of your clit after lightly nipping. Your back arched and you started humping his face.

He curved his mouth so he could press his tongue inside you, moving his head to get every angle and you were closer to the edge faster than ever.

You were moaning, high pitched desperate sounds and the bed shifted under you. Lifting your head, your eyes were glassy as you saw Rafe palming his bulge and thrusting into his hand as he savored your pussy.

You hadn’t been touched like this in a while. Even before walking in to the sight of John B cheating on you, he had neglected you. Not paying attention to the ways you left yourself open for his touch.

Your ex boyfriend was soft whenever you were intimate. Never showing an ounce of roughness or dominance. Unlike Rafe, who was both of those things even when he was on his knees for you.

Your orgasm came like a storm, pulling you into bliss as a wail escaped you. Your hands were scrambling to put his free one on your tit, guiding him to squeeze it as he licked you through it.

Your entire body twitched as he didn’t stop but his own sounds of pleasure echoing through your room as Rafe came in his pants. Your eyes squeezed shut and he slowly lifted his skull. His mouth and chin were dripping with your slick.

Rafe’s eyes were hazy and you prepared for his quick departure but he crawled over you and slammed his lips to yours in a kiss. His fingers held your chin and his soft lips moved with yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing and your arms around his broad shoulders.

He met your tongue, sucking it into his mouth and then your lower lip. You tasted yourself and Rafe’s hand drifted to your back. He held you close to him with a new level of…tenderness.

Rafe broke away, sucking in gulps of air and brushed his knuckle against your cheek.

You both made a sound of pain and he shifted off of you. It was a pinch, deep to the bone of your ring finger. It ended just as quickly as it came on and you both looked at your hands.

There were matching moons. The cycle of the night.

You felt the air knock out of you. Despite the fucked out appearance of your messed up dress, panties to the side and bruised lips.

Your gazes met each others.

“No fucking way.”

Rafe Cameron was your soulmate.

Dividers by @starkeysprincess and @bloodibambiidoll

Tagging @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @webbluvrsugar @fear-is-truth @marchsfreakshow @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @hornyxdreamsx2 @redhead1180 @rafeyscurtainbangs @xxladymjxx

[luvyeni]

SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning — murder , mentions of blood, kidnapping , jays bar is complicit to so many murders parings enhypen hyung line x fem reader | back to library .

— what they do when someone flirts with you.

request: could u do enhypen legal line yandere reaction to another guy sexually flirting with u?

「 authors note 𖹭 」 i hope you like it !

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he's gonna kill them, but he wants to see them suffer first , he kidnaps them; hides them in a warehouse he uses to kill , that can't be traced back to him either. he withholds food from the guy , then water slowly killing them , but not all he does , he also beats them. all while the person is begging to be freed , or killed after a few days of torture , to which he just smiled and continues his beatings. heeseung may even go as far as to free them from their restraints, letting them go and when they go running towards the exit , he fires his gun , one shot to the persons head and down they go.

next is to get rid of the body and quickly, so he can quickly get home to you.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

jay owned the club where the creep harassed you, he saw it go down , so no one bats an eye when his men drag the man away from you , and all the way back to jays office , his office with the sound proof walls. the guy begging that he was sorry and he didn't even know you were taken. "pl-please i'm sorry i didn't know she had a boyfriend , I was drunk." jay rolled his eyes watching him lie. "does it matter if we weren't together? you still harassed a lady in my bar , this time it was my last you harassed." he said. "see any decent guy would've probably knocked you cold on to the ground , unfortunately you got me." he said. "and i'm not as decent." he gave them the words , before his men proceeded to beat the guy to death.

"someone go get my baby girl , clean this mess up when you're done."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake is emotionally unstable when it comes to you , so when he sees someone flirting with you , he goes into a blind rage , he doesn't remember following the guy into the bathroom of jays bar , all he remembers is tearfully bashing the guy's head in between the stall door , sobbing, not because he's upset at what he's doing but because he fully believes you're gonna leave him for this guy , that's why he has to kill him so he can't take you from him. "she's mine." he cries , blood is everywhere , jay is gonna be pissed at him for making such a mess , this one is gonna be hard to clean up , but he can't help it.

"she's mine and you're not gonna take her from me."

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

kills them , sunghoon doesn't even wait , making sure no one sees him , it's jays bar so he knows there's no cameras , he follows the guy into the alley, hitting the bastard harassed you on the head with a bottle , pulling out a knife to cut his throat before the guy could even yell out for help , walking back into the bar , looking for you. "let's go." he grabbed your arm. "let's fucking go now." he drags you out the bar , he's not pissed at you for once but you don't know that and he doesn't want to let you know that.

"i handled it , but you won't be going out for a while , i'm not mad at you."

©LUVYENI

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part seven

firefighter!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, extreme vulnerability, brief mentions of emotional abuse and manipulation in a past relationship, mentions of infidelity in a past relationship, shit ton of fluff, smut (nipple play, teensy bit of dirty talk, semi-public?? firetruck fucking!!! unprotected piv, ass play, ass slapping, brief choking, spitting, cum eating), reader’s brothers and tommy are little shits as always, no use of y/n.

word count: 7.1k

a/n: i’ve been feeling a little feral lately which resulted in the smut. apologies🧍‍♀️and yes that third picture is the 911 lonestar firehouse LMAO it was perfect for this okay 😭 anyway i hope y’all enjoy <3

synopsis: a drunken joel asks you to take your relationship with him to the next level.

A week had passed since Joel’s birthday party, and you’re now alone in a house that’s usually bustling with people. 

Sarah had gone off for the weekend to spend the night at a friend’s house while Joel went out with Tommy, your brothers, and Josh. You were curled up on the couch reading an invigorating romance novel. The quietness was accompanied by the ticking clock above the mantle and the soft scrape of paper rubbing against paper as you turned the page of your book. 

You find yourself so immersed in the book that when your phone rings, it nearly startles you half to death. You pick it up to see Emily FaceTiming you, and you dog-ear the page you’re on before setting the book down and sliding the answer button. 

“Hey Emi,” you smile at her as you bring your knees to your chest. 

“Hey sis. How are you?” 

“I’m good. Just reading a book and drinking some wine,” you say, lifting your glass up for her to see. She grins and holds up her water bottle, making you laugh. 

“You got the house to yourself?” She asks. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“Sarah is at a friend’s and, you know, Joel is out with the boys.” 

“The boys,” she snorts. “I can’t believe they all actually formed a little friend group and are going out.” 

“Tell me about it. I’ll take this over Andy and Cole chewing Joel’s head off any day, though.” 

“Seriously. Remember how long it took them to stop torturing Josh?” 

You think back to when your brothers would give Josh shit a lot when Emily first brought him around, but he stuck it out because he’s so head over heels for Emi… as he should be. Good man. 

“God, yeah. I also remember mom yelling at them both, saying something like ‘this is why you’re both single’,” you laugh at the memory, taking a sip of your wine. 

“I remember that, too. But I’m glad Josh stuck around,” she has a soft smile on her face before she twists her lips to the side. 

“Okay, so, I have something to tell you. But you can’t tell anybody. Well, you can tell Joel if you want,” she sighs, and you furrow your brows. 

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything is perfect. You know how I told mom like a week ago at Joel’s birthday party that Josh and I didn’t use… anything on our honeymoon?” 

You nod, recalling the moment in Joel’s kitchen. Then you go completely still as your heart drops to your ass. 

“Emi, oh my god, is—are you—holy fuck,” your brain is scrambled right now, eyes going wide as you stare at the screen. 

She tears up and lets out a happy sob that sounds like a laugh, holding up a pregnancy test that so clearly has the word pregnant across the tiny screen. 

Your hand flies over your mouth and tears sting your eyes. 

“Oh my god!” 

“I know, crazy isn’t it?” She laughs, happy tears streaming down her glowing cheeks. 

“When did you find out?” You ask. 

“Literally like thirty minutes ago. You’re the first person I’ve told,” she pauses. “Let Josh think he was the first, though. This is what he gets when he leaves his wife at home to go out and drink with his brothers and new friends,” she jokes, and you laugh with her. 

You hold up your right hand, seriousness in your tone. “Scouts honor.” 

“Thank you,” she says, sniffling before wiping her tears away once more. 

“I’m so happy for you, Emi. I know how much you want to be a mother.” 

“I love you, my dear sister,” she beams at you, and you can’t help but return the same radiant smile. 

“I love you too.” 

“Sorry to cut the conversation short, but Josh just texted and said he’s coming home in a few and I want to be prepared and all that,” she waves her hand around, and you can’t help but huff a laugh. 

“No worries. I’m so excited for you. I love you and I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?” 

She nods and blows you a kiss through the screen, saying bye before she hangs up. 

You can’t wipe the grin off your face or the warm feeling in your chest at her news. You try to go back to reading your book, but your mind can’t stop from wandering to your sister. 

Your thoughts are torn from your mind just a few short minutes later as you hear the front door handle jiggle, opening up to a completely happy and very drunk Joel.  

“There’s my beautiful lady,” he says, stumbling a tiny bit in the entryway. You laugh and stand up to help him, giving Tommy a wave as you see him watching Joel from his truck to make sure he gets in the house okay. He gives you a wave and a smile before peeling off, and you close the door. 

You steady Joel and help him walk over to the couch with you, settling him before you sit down next to him. 

“I gather your night went well,” you giggle, and he turns to smile at you. 

“Your brothers are two of the funniest damn guys. Josh too. This bromance is coming along just nicely.” 

You can’t help but laugh at his words, leaning forward to plant your lips on his cheek. 

“Oh, speaking of Josh,” you start, taking Joel’s hand into yours before rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “Emily called me a few minutes before you came home. She told me some wonderful news and said I can share it with you.” 

Joel’s gaze meets yours as his eyebrows shoot up. “What is it?” 

“They’re having a baby. Emily is pregnant.” 

“Oh wow, that is great news. You think they’ll announce it to everyone soon?” He asks, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. 

“I’m sure they will soon.” 

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes before you switch positions on the couch and lay down, Joel following suit as he begins to tuck himself between your legs. You’re situating yourself before you look up at him with a small smile, his gaze already intensely on you. 

“We should have kids,” Joel says, a smug, sappy smile on his face. His words halt your movements as you eye him wearily. 

You quirk your brow at him and tilt your head. “Oh?” 

“Don’t ya think they’d be so cute?” He gushes, and Drunk Joel truly is a sight to behold. He’s all soft and cuddly. Practically a human teddy bear. 

“Just think about it,” he laughs, “They’d have your beautiful eyes and your smile and your laugh and—” 

You put a hand on his chest to stop his words, and he looks at you with so much love in his eyes you think you might burst. 

“Slow your roll, cowboy. How about we discuss this when whiskey isn’t in the equation.” 

He pouts at you and you have to stifle a laugh. He looks so fucking cute. Your heart blooms at the fact that he wants that type of future with you, and it cracks through the remaining pieces of the walls you’ve put up. 

He sighs and lays down on you, nestling his broad body between your thighs and clings to you like a koala. You kiss his temple and run your fingers through his hair, feeling so content and in love that it makes you nearly choke up with tears. 

He presses gentle kisses to the skin of your chest as he buries his face there, sighing in content. 

“Well if we’re holding off on the discussion of kids, then maybe we can start a few steps before that one,” he says, and his words barely make sense as he half-mumbles into your chest. You catch it anyway.

“And what would the first step be?” 

He lifts his head up to meet your gaze, eyeing you knowingly before giving you a soft but sure smile. 

“Move in with me.” 

-

“That’s the last of it.” You wipe your brow and exhale an exhausted breath, admiring the pile of boxes that overtook Joel’s living room—well, your living room now, too. It was only two months ago that Joel had drunkenly asked you to move in with him, and when morning time came, you had to make sure he was sure. 

He’d reassured you easily that he meant what he said and would love it if you moved in with him and Sarah. Sarah had been on board with it all along, wanting you to stay permanently after the few weeks you’d spent there taking care of Joel and helping with her. 

You had some things to figure out with your lease to your apartment, seeing as it wasn’t up until January, but your landlord was a godsend and the sweetest woman, letting you break the contract two months early with your full deposit back. 

Joel wraps his arms around you with a prideful grin, kissing your sweaty forehead. You grimace at that, but you’ve come to find out early on in your relationship that this man isn’t easily disgusted by much of anything, really. 

You gaze at the tower of boxes and it tugs at your heart strings. Just a couple of months ago, you were crushed by the prospect of having to go back to your apartment when Joel was fully healed, but it turns out he didn’t want you to leave, either. He’d come to your place on nights Sarah was with friends and would spend time with you there after you’d left his house and he got cleared for light duty at work. 

Turns out he’s just as clingy to you as you are to him. That’s not to say you both don’t mind spending time apart from each other, but you’d much prefer to be wrapped up in each other or simply enjoying each other’s company. 

You’ve already established that allowing yourself to get attached to someone scared the hell out of you, and Joel had sensed it, too. You finally opened up to him one night and laid all of your cards out on the table for him. Confessed that your ex had been emotionally abusive toward you, manipulating you and gaslighting you into thinking you were fucking nuts for wanting to feel something with him and be loved the way you knew you deserved to be, and that you were too much for wanting the bare fucking minimum. That he made you feel like you didn’t matter. That he made you feel unworthy of true love after you finally put the finishing pieces of the puzzle together, seeing the bigger picture, and coming to the conclusion that he was a fucking prick who didn’t deserve you or what you had to offer. The final cherry on top of this monstrosity was catching him fucking his coworker in his bed. 

You told Joel, with tears in your eyes, that your heart was completely his and it had taken you a while to get over the hurdles and constant battles in your mind. You told him he’s the one who crumbled all of those walls completely. He’s the one that made you believe in love again, no matter how much it terrified you. You confessed that he was it for you. He’d ruined every single other man for you, ever. 

With glossy eyes of his own, he pulled you in tight and held you for what seemed like hours, kissing your temple repeatedly until you completely melted into him. He’d made you a promise that night he’d do his absolute damndest to protect your heart and take care of it, and if he ever saw your ex, he’d beat the shit out of him. You’d never seen Joel so furious, but with the look he had in his eyes, you could tell he really wasn’t joking. 

It’s only been a few months, but you feel like you’ve come a long way—mentally, physically, with Joel, your family, and your dearest friend Maria. Without them, you don’t think you would’ve had the strength to overcome your worst fears that involved love. It took you a while to finally love yourself again after you ended it with Christian,  and even longer to allow someone else to love you the way your heart desperately desired. 

You couldn’t have been more grateful that the person to give you that is this handsome, strong, loving man that stands proudly beside you. Someone who’s unabashed about showing you off. Proud to love you out loud. Isn’t afraid of giving you a big, playful smooch in public and doesn’t hide you from his coworkers or his family or any of his friends. 

You’re irrevocably in love with Joel Miller, and you’re damn proud of it. This man has saved you—literally and figuratively. 

“I honestly thought you’d have more stuff than this,” Joel says with a teasing undertone. You snort a laugh and roll your eyes, looking at him with amusement. 

“My apartment wasn’t that big, Miller.” You pat his chest and move toward the boxes, luckily thinking ahead and separating everything into which room they belonged in. You lift the first one up that’s labeled bedroom in big bold letters, heading toward the stairs. Joel follows suit and picks up another one labeled bathroom, following you up the steps. 

You set the box down on the floor and open the drawers that Joel had cleared out for you. You smile at the thought of him being nice enough to clear out some of his space for you. He’d told you it gave him the perfect opportunity to clean up around the house and get rid of stuff he didn’t need or use anyway. He donated most of the stuff he got rid of, saying someone else would get much better use out of the various items. 

Joel sets his box down in the master bathroom, setting it on your side of the sink. Your side. Your lips curl up at that, and Joel comes behind you before nearly tackling you onto the bed. You yelp out in surprise, a breathy laugh escaping you as he straddles you and looks down at you from above. 

Your hands land on his torso, coercing him down with a mischievous smile and a curl of your finger, silently telling him ‘come here’. He licks his lips and leans down, elbows on either side of your head. 

“Fancy meetin’ you here, darlin’.” His Southern charm is something you’ll never tire of, especially if it’s regarded in a playful mood. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?” You quirk a brow at him and grin, fisting the front of his shirt to tug him down so you’re nose-to-nose. 

“You’re right, pretty lady. Severely rude. How long until everyone gets here…?” He trails off, kissing the line of your jaw before nibbling at your chin. Your eyes glance at your watch-clad wrist as you lift it up in your line of sight. 

“About forty minutes or so,” you breathe out in a sigh. Joel hums against your neck now, licking your pulse point before nipping your skin slightly. You arch your body up into his, neediness rolling off of every limb as you lick your lips in anticipation. 

“Enough time for me to show you how not rude I am,” he murmurs. You laugh at that, threading your fingers through his thick locks. 

“I think this lady would very much indeed like a proper demonstration.” 

Joel’s eyes turn dark and he nearly growls, tugging your tank top up and over your head before unzipping your sports bra. Your breasts bounce as they become free, and Joel chuckles deeply at the way your nipples tighten and become erect with such little teasing and some cold air. 

“So fuckin’ pretty. I love these tits, baby.” 

He leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it before tugging on it with his lips. He scrapes his teeth over the sensitive bud and you gasp, hands landing on Joel’s chest as you fist his shirt once more. 

Wetness easily pools in your panties as he continues his ministrations, giving the other nipple as much attention as the previous. He eventually licks down your sternum, nipping his way down your torso before grabbing leggings by the waistband and yanking them down. 

“Joel, I’m all sweaty,” you whine, not particularly keen on him going down on you when you feel… musty. 

“Since when have I given a shit about that, baby? You know I’d eat this pretty pussy for breakfast lunch and dinner, given the chance. Now hush up n’ let me eat you like you deserve.” 

And he’s about to dive right in when the doorbell rings. You whine in frustration, rubbing your brow impatiently. 

“Guess we don’t have forty minutes,” you bite, and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to refrain from laughing. You roll your eyes at him and gently push him off of you, standing from the bed to adjust your clothes. You make your way out of the bedroom, and Joel can’t help but land a hefty smack to your ass. 

You swivel your head to look back at him and give him an unconvincing scowl. He’s sporting an amused expression in return. “Hands off, Miller.” 

“Uh uh. We’re in our house now, sugar. Not a chance.” 

He wraps his arms around your waist as you both pad over to the front door, opening it to see your brothers standing there. 

“Hey look, it’s Dumb and Dumber,” you muse, and you scrunch your nose with a laugh as Andy rolls his eyes. Cole flips you off with a saccharine smile plastered to his lips as you step to the side to let them in. 

“Just to let you know, Miller, you’re insane for asking our baby sister to move in with you. Woman’s a goddamn menace,” Andrew starts, setting the six pack he brought onto the kitchen counter. 

“That’s rich considering you and Dumber over here decided to harass him about treating me right the day before Emi’s wedding.” 

Joel’s lip twitches up at the corner, and your gaze meets his as you both share an amused look. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple as he turns back to your brothers. 

“She’s my menace. I love it. I love everything about her,” he says, giving you a chaste kiss as you beam at him. 

“Eugh. Get a room,” Andrew says while he scrunches his face up in mock disgust. 

You point at him in an accusatory fashion. “‘Y’know, Andy, you won’t be talking so much shit one of these days when the woman of your dreams swoops in and knocks you on your ass.” 

“Jeez, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” Cole asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Both of you did. Cockblockers.” You brush past them to get a bottle opener for the beers, tossing it to Joel when you find it. 

“Dude, come on!” 

“Fucks sake.” 

Your brothers groan in unison as they pick up exactly what you were putting down. 

A flush of deep red creeps up Joel’s neck and face as he opens beers and doesn’t meet either Andrew or Cole’s gazes. 

“When’s the rest of the Brady Bunch supposed to get here?” You ask, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge for yourself. You uncap it and take a long sip, eyeing your brothers over the frosted plastic. 

“Probably twenty minutes or so. We were already in the neighborhood so we thought we’d swing by early.” 

You nod and shift your gaze back to the boxes. Your family was nice enough to volunteer to help you unpack and get things all organized, along with Tommy and Maria. 

A few hours later and the once-full boxes are broken down and flattened, piling high in the living room. The rest of the stuff you need to unpack is stuff for the bedroom, but you decide to take care of it a little later.

You can’t stop thanking everybody as the day goes on, and in truth, it warms your heart that you have so many people in your corner. 

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart,” your mom says as she nudges you with her hip. 

“Thanks mama.” You give her a side hug and lean in to her just as Joel catches your eye and winks at you. 

Your mom huffs a laugh beside you, looking at you with a knowing smirk. “That man really is your soulmate, baby girl. I’m so glad you’ve found someone who loves you the way he does.” 

“You know, I told him about everything that Christian had put me through. That man looked me in the eyes and told me he’d do everything in his power to protect my heart. I completely opened up my heart to him, mom. That’s something I haven’t done in such a long time because I was so fucking scared of me being hurt again being the outcome.” You finish putting away some baking tools in a kitchen drawer before you sigh and shake your head. 

“It was so clear to me, especially after his accident. I can’t fathom losing him.” You start to choke up on your words as your eyes get watery. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. 

“Oh, honey,” your mom coos, wrapping her arm around you while rubbing your arm lovingly. “I know that time was super difficult for you and you had your reasons as to why you didn’t want to talk about it. It killed me seeing you going through such a tough time. If I could’ve taken your heartache away in a beat I would’ve.” 

Hot tears are fully rolling down your cheeks now and you sniffle, giving her a sad smile. “I love you, mom. Thank you for sticking by my side even during the ugliest of it all. I never meant to push you or dad away. Just know that Joel treats me so well and I don’t have to second-guess things with him. I know it’s only been a few months and it may seem like things are moving fast, but I’ve never had stronger feelings than this for someone. He’s it for me, mom.” 

“I’m so proud of you for opening your heart up again, sweetheart. You deserve this happiness and love. I can’t wait for the day I get to see you up at the altar with him, and, you know, follow in Emi’s footsteps in having a baby.” She gives you a wink and a kiss on the cheek before wiping a tear from your face before rejoining everyone in the living room. 

And it’s at this moment that you feel your heart grow fuller, completely surrounded by love—and, for the first time in years—full contentment and certainty. 

-

The quietness of the usually noisy home the following day was almost unsettling. It’s something that you know will take time to get used to, but luckily you have your Bluetooth speaker and your favorites playlist to keep you company. 

You make a checklist of everything you need to do today, and you’re determined to get it done before Joel and Sarah come home. The first thing on the list is to put away the last of your stuff and tidy up the house, which you get done in a couple of hours. It’s around eleven when you finish, so you decide to freshen up for the day and shower before heading downstairs to see what groceries they have in the fridge to make dinner. 

As soon as you open the fridge, you spot Joel’s forgotten lunch bag. You roll your lips into your mouth before checking your watch again, figuring he’d probably eat lunch soon. You decide to pay him a visit at the firehouse to drop off his lunch and get all of the flattened boxes that lay in the living room to a recycling facility. 

You load up the cardboard in your car and grab Joel’s lunch, starting the twenty minute drive to the firehouse. When you get there, you notice one of the trucks missing from the apparatus bay. Other than that, everything else is in place and the firehouse is completely quiet, except for some faint clinking noises coming from the second level. 

Your mind reels for a second, remembering the first time you walked through these doors. It had only been a few months back, but it seems like a lifetime ago. You truly couldn’t fathom how far you’ve come not only personally, but in your relationship with Joel as well. 

You remember being so uncertain about all of this. Nervous to take the next step. Push yourself to trust Joel and see where the leap of shattered faith would take you. You never in a million years thought it’d land you here, but you were beyond indebted to the universe that it did. 

You climb the stairs to the second floor and see Joel standing with his back to you, washing dishes. You take this time to eye him head-to-toe, admiring his strong build and tall stature as the muscles in his biceps and forearms flexed while he scrubbed away what looked like egg scraps off of a plate. His uniform is fitted to his figure like a glove with the navy blue Austin Fire Department t-shirt tucked into his crisp navy blue slacks with black steel-toed boots to finish off the look. His brown curls are neatly combed, and you just know he’s sporting that one Clark Kent curl in the front that drives you absolutely nuts. 

The dull ache in your core resurfaces from yesterday before you were so rudely interrupted from getting your pussy eaten like it was Joel’s last fucking meal. You nearly moan at the thought and shake your head with a brief sigh before you bite your lip. 

You let out a low whistle and giggle. “Looking good, Miller,” you say, stepping closer to him now. Joel swivels his head to look over his shoulder and his gaze meets yours with surprise written all over his expression. 

“Hey baby,” he says, finishing rinsing off the last of the dishes before turning off the tap and wiping his hands. He makes his way over to you with a grin, planting a sweet kiss on your lips before wrapping his arms around your waist securely. “This is a real nice surprise. Watcha doin’ here?” 

You hold up his lunch bag with a smirk. “Someone was in a rush this morning,” you tease. He chuckles and takes his lunch bag from your hand. 

“Guess I was. Didn’t even realize it. Woke up later than I intended to, but leavin’ you behind in bed is just so damn hard.” He kisses your forehead and you sigh in contentment. 

“Tell me about it. The bed gets so damn cold without my own personal furnace right beside me.” You giggle as he tosses his head back with a hearty laugh, and you admire the crow’s feet around his eyes as they crinkle. Everything about this man is just so damn beautiful. 

He fixates his gaze on you once more before sliding his free hand down to your ass to give it a love tap. 

“Thank you for bringin’ this to me. Probably woulda just stole Tommy’s lunch if I didn’t have one.” 

You huff a laugh before you finally look around, noticing that there’s nobody else in the vicinity. 

“Is it just you here?” You ask, and he lets go of you so he can put his lunch bag in the fridge. 

He nods. “Mhm. Everyone’s on a call. Left a couple ‘a minutes before you came here.” 

“Oh,” you grimace. “I’m sorry you’re not out with them,” you say sympathetically. 

“Ain’t a worry, baby. Gives me the chance to tidy the place up and rest my bones. Just glad ‘m not drivin’ you crazy at home anymore.” 

“You didn’t drive me crazy,” you laugh. “I’m already there.” 

“Funny.” 

“I know,” you gleam at him before scrunching your nose, heading toward the steps. 

“Leavin’ already?” He falls in step behind you and follows you down the steps. 

“Don’t wanna bug you too much while you’re at work.” 

He scoffs and shakes his head before stopping you next to the firetruck. “Woman, when you gonna learn that you never bug me?” He’s got a teasing glint in his eyes and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Guess you’ll just have to teach me that lesson over…” Your eyes trail down to his lips and the corner of your mouth tugs up in the slightest. “And over.” 

He moves toward you so your back is flush against the sleek red engine, caging you in as he places both hands next to your head on either side. He’s got that look in his eyes that drives you wild, and the dull ache isn’t so dull anymore. It’s a full-fledged throbbing that has your breath picking up in the slightest as you look at him staring back at you with a fire in his eyes. 

“I don’t have a single problem doin’ that, darlin’.” 

You swallow harshly as his eyes flit behind you for a brief second before they settle back on your face. 

“You ever been inside a firetruck?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. He moves closer to you so his body is nearly flush to yours, give or take two or three centimeters. 

Your mouth goes dry and the words you want to say seem to die on your tongue. You opt for shaking your head no. Joel smirks at that, reaching up to pull open the back door to the firetruck. He nods his head upward, and you immediately get what he’s hinting at. 

“After you, baby.” 

You slowly turn around and climb into the back of the truck, looking around in pure curiosity. There’s two captain’s chairs right next to each other, and Joel takes a seat on the one closest to the open door before he shuts it. The sound makes you jump and you look down at him as he tugs on your hand. He spreads his legs wide and the slacks he’s wearing hug his thighs deliciously. Your mouth nearly waters at how fucking good he looks in his element. He pats one of his thighs and you sit down on it, looking around a bit more before he gently grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. 

“This is actually really cool,” you say, eyes finally settling on his face once again. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, just staring at you with a lustful look in his eyes. You can practically read his mind from a mile away.

“Joel, no, we’re at your job and—”

His lips on your jaw distract you and you suck in a sharp breath as he licks at your pulse point on your neck. You know this is so wrong on so many levels, but you can’t seem to get yourself to stop and think about the consequences. 

“They’re on a call,” he mumbles into your neck. “‘S gonna take ‘em awhile.” 

He grabs your hips and swings your other leg over the other side of his lap so you’re straddling him. You can’t deny the slick heat between your legs and the prospect of doing something insanely inappropriate in a firetruck. This was never on your Bingo Card of Life, but when the opportunity arises, you take it. 

“We never got to finish what we started yesterday,” Joel states matter-of-factly before his warm hand plunges into the front of your leggings. He raises a brow up at you when he realizes you’re going commando today. His middle finger slides through your slit easily, and you moan at the contact as you loll your head to the side. You grip onto his shoulders and lean down, crashing your lips to his in such fervor that it nearly knocks the wind out of you. 

He circles your clit skillfully with the tip of his finger, and you can’t help but grind yourself onto his hand. He’s swallowing every whimper that bubbles up in your throat as you move your hips back and forth, and his free hand grabs your ass before giving it a smack. 

“A little rough today, are we?” Your voice is breathy and you let out a small laugh, slowing down your grinding motions. 

“Is it too much?” He asks, and you nearly want to melt into a damn puddle at how considerate he is being so concerned like this. You grin down at him and smooth out the worry line in his brow, bending down to give him a lengthy kiss. You peck his lips a couple of times before sliding your hands down his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat beneath your fingertips. 

“Not at all. I like it rough.” You smirk at him as you feel his cock straining against his slacks at your words. A low growl rumbles deep in his chest before he closes his eyes for a beat. They snap open again and this time, you’re met with a darkened gaze that’s full of lust and determination. 

“Yeah? How rough?” His hand slides out of your leggings and he swipes the tip of his middle finger across your bottom lip, coating it in your arousal. He coaxes your jaw open to slip his finger into your mouth, and you suck his finger willingly. You taste yourself then before you shoot him with a dead serious stare. 

“Ruin me.” 

He stills at your words for a beat as he sucks in a sharp breath. He grabs the back of your head and crashes his lips to yours, hands now roaming wildly before he’s frantically sliding down your leggings. You’re trying as quickly as possible to blindly unbuckle his belt and unbutton his slacks, and you slide his clothing down his thighs before he presses the head of his cock against your folds. 

Before you can even think to sink down onto him, he grabs you and forces you to face downward toward the seats so you’re ass up and completely exposed to him this way. 

“Such a perfect fuckin’ ass too, baby.” He grabs both of your arms and holds them behind your back, wrapping one hand around both your wrists to keep you steady. You whimper as he slides his cock through your folds once again before he suddenly slams into you. 

Your mouth goes agape and your eyes roll to the back of your skull as the air in your lungs dissipates. You clench hard around him and you feel your mind completely slipping away as you see stars. 

Joel presses his free hand down on your lower back and soothes you lovingly. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he says through clenched teeth, and you can tell this is a lot for him, too. 

“Move, Joel,” you choke out, sucking in a big breath of air. He does as you say, moving his hips at a brutal pace so he’s pistoning in and out of you. 

You have to concentrate on breathing because it’s damn near impossible. The sound of skin slapping on skin reverberates inside of the firetruck, and your mind was absolutely reeling at how you two were doing something this scandalous. 

You feel Joel’s free hand rub your ass for a brief second before he lands a harsh smack on it, and you cry out in both pain and pleasure as your skin stings from the contact. 

“You like that?” He asks, somehow pounding into you even harder. Your limbs are like noodles at this point and your mind is so foggy. You try to answer him again but nothing comes out. 

“Answer me, sweet girl. You like when I’m rough with you?” 

You whine before you finally find your words again. “Fuck! Yes!”

He lands another harsh smack against your ass and you moan loudly before sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle your other hole, and he spits on it. 

“J-Joel—”

“One of these days I’ll fuck you here, too.” His husky voice is full of promise as he slips his thumb into your  asshole, and all you can do is nod as you feel so full like this. 

“Yesyeyes oh, god—”

“He ain’t here right now, baby. Just me.” Joel darkly chuckles as he releases your wrists and uses that hand to slither between your legs, furiously and skillfully rubbing at your swollen, aching clit. 

You brace your arms on the seats below you as you try to hold yourself up, but your legs are shaking uncontrollably. Joel takes his thumb out of you before sliding his hand around your body to hold you up against his body as his relentless pace begins to get sloppy. 

He brings his hand up to your throat and wraps around it, yanking your head back against his shoulder as he looks down at you with a chillingly carnal stare. He almost doesn’t even look like the sweet man you’re in love with, but a darker version that’s consumed his being. 

Seeing this side of him makes you even more hot and bothered and your body easily succumbs to his ministrations, so reactive to his touch and words. 

He uses his thumb from the hand on the throat to tug at your chin, coaxing your jaw open as a wicked grin curls onto his lips before he spits into your mouth. 

The heat that was once a low simmer in your belly is now a fire roaring throughout the veins in your body, igniting you and consuming you as a whole. You swallow before he leans down to kiss you hungrily, and that’s what does it for you. 

You surge over the edge, orgasm crashing over you like waves on a shore. Joel swallows all of your cries and pleads against his lips, groaning at how you’re pulsing around him as you ride through your undoing. He squeezes the sides of your neck as he comes undone, arm moving down to wrap around your waist as his whole body stills. 

You feel his hot spend fill you up with each last harsh thrust he gives you before he stills completely. He kisses your shoulder lovingly before pulling out, groaning into your sweater as he does so. You feel his spend leak down the apex of your thighs, and Joel collects some on his finger as he swipes it through your folds. 

You shiver at his overstimulating touch, looking back at him as he smirks and brings his finger toward your mouth. You eagerly open it for him, moaning around his finger as you get a taste of the both of you. 

“You know, for someone who’s such a sweetheart, you really are a lil’ freaky. Just how I like it,” Joel says with a chest-rumbling laugh. You roll your eyes at him before he kisses your temple and helps you pull up your leggings before he tucks himself back into his boxers and fixes his uniform to look somewhat presentable again, opening the door to get out. 

“You’re one to talk, Miller,” you say, grabbing his hand as he helps you hop down out of the firetruck. 

“I’m an angel. Completely innocent. No idea what you’re insinuatin’, pretty lady.” He wiggles his eyebrows as you roll your eyes at him once more before laughing. 

“Sure, and I’ve got telekinesis.” 

He opens his mouth to retort, but is cut off by the sound of the other fire engine beginning to back up into the empty spot of the bay. 

Everyone starts to unload one-by-one, waving hi to you as they see you and Joel standing there. You’re hoping to god you don’t have a ‘we-just-fucked-in-the-back-of-the-firetruck’ look slapped across your forehead. Luckily, nobody seems to notice, and if they do, they don’t say anything. 

Until Tommy rounds the corner of the smaller truck. He looks at you both and pauses, taking in your appearances. Your face burns and you know if you look down at the ground it’ll give you both away, but anything is better than being under the younger Miller’s scrutinizing stare. 

Everyone’s gone upstairs at this point except for you three, and the sudden howl of laughter Tommy lets out makes you jump. He’s bent over with his hands clutching his knees, face and neck turning red with how hard he’s laughing. He’s got tears in his eyes that he wipes away with a knuckle, and it’s a couple of minutes before he finally calms down and catches his breath again. 

He straightens out and looks between the two of you again, lips wobbling as if he’s trying to hold back more laughter. 

“Oh for fucks sake, out with it.” Joel rolls his eyes at his brother as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you back so you stumble into his solid body. 

“You two are unbelievable. You’re not that slick and you know, you both have guilty written across your foreheads. I know what you did, you nasties.” 

“Might I remind you about that time I caught you and Maria—”

“Hey hey hey, this ain’t about me and my girl, this is about you two.” Tommy chuckles as he holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Don’t y’all get enough time at home?” Tommy teases, and you bury your face into Joel’s chest with a groan. 

“Shut up Tommy,” you say. 

“No actually, because you’re always there,” Joel retorts, which causes Tommy to laugh again. 

“Oh please, like that’s stopped y’all before.” 

“Not another word about it, brother,” Joel warns, and Tommy smirks at him. 

“Fine. But ya might wanna take care of that stain on your pants.” 

Joel’s eyes snap down to his slacks the same time yours do, but you don’t see anything.

Fucking Tommy. 

“Bastard,” Joel mumbles. 

You decide to get in on the teasing. You pat Joel’s chest and sigh, shaking your head. “Guess that means no more sex for us, cowboy.” 

You give him a loving kiss on the cheek before you pry yourself out of Joel’s grip and turn to walk out of the firehouse, fighting your giggles as you leave a dumbfounded Joel who calls out ‘you’re not serious, are you?’, and a, yet again, doubled over Tommy with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard behind you. 

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[uzurimisery]

bitter frost, honey i'm coming home. / logan howlett x reader / nsfw

warnings: MDNI, angst, p in v, mention of vomit, makeup sex, death (not character), thoughts of suicidal ideation, sappy emotional sex, old man cums quick, Logan yells at reader, smoking, knotting (not a/b/o)

wc: 9k

A/N: I do not know brevity. This was only meant to be 4k max

It’s cold on the ranch now. The first frost came barrelling through, ice crystals hanging on the barbed wire fences and freezing over the troughs out in the pasture. Days on the ranch start early, often before dawn, the first rays of light peeking over the crest of the mountains, painting it pink and golden. He’d step out into the crisp morning air and go to the barn, where he’d feed the animals. The chickens were too loud if he didn’t feed them first, the two roosters crowing till he did, so they went first. After the chickens, it was time for the two horses and the cows. After three years of doing it, he moved with practiced precision. Scattering hay, pouring oats, and spreading seeds are all mindless tasks. 

Logan had to venture out on Weston, a reliable but honorary son of a bitch, with an icebreaker to free up the water for the herd. Then, he had to head into the barns and ensure they weren’t frozen. He should pull out the heated troughs, kept convincing himself he’d do it next weekend 27 weekends ago, and now it was necessary. His back ached a bit at the thought. Pulling out all the equipment and placing it was a full day's job with just himself doing it. He was getting a fucking headache just thinking about it.

It’s not that he wasn’t strong enough. He was just old. He was far too old to run a ranch independently with so little help. Each winter felt a bit long as if there was too much work. Maybe he had grown lazier, too, over the years. No more fighting and not working at Xavier’s school; he was just living on the land now. Cattle ranching. Felt like an All-American cowboy when he had on wranglers, flannel, Justin boots, and some hat he had picked up at the tractor supply store a year back. The hat had seen better days, and the ridge was beaten up and dented from all the times he’d fold it in half and tuck it into his back pocket. He didn’t bother with a jacket, be far too warm that way. 

The ranch was quiet, save for the sound of cattle and horses. Now, the yellow pasture stretches out from the start of his property line on the road to near the base of the mountains. His little private valley. At first, the quiet made him anxious, like he was waiting for another catastrophe to come and tear it apart. That he’d wake up with someone trying to kill him, and all too often, he’d close his eyes and envision all the torture he’d been through—too much pain and suffering in his life. 

The quiet also gave him too much time to think about everything he’d done. Everything he’d lost. He was a man who had known mainly suffering for all his life. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t deserve this peace, this serenity. It was dissonant. He was a fighter, a soldier, a weapon made human to kill and kill and kill again until the only color he knew was red, the only scent he smelt iron, till the collar around his neck pulled so tight it’d break it.

His hands ached, claws threatening to come out as he worked himself up, the sting of vomit on his tongue. The back of his knuckles split open like they weren’t even there, like there was no skin or muscle for the adamantine to cut through. Like it didn’t hurt every time it did.

Weston whinnied under him, tired of lazily trotting around the barn to check for coyote marks. He wanted to gallop around the outskirts of the land while Logan sniffed out any danger to the herd. Didn’t need a cattle dog when he was a glorified one.

“Yeah yeah, asshole.” His spurs dig into Weston’s sides, urging the horse into a gallop. He might as well get the morning round done now. 

The horse broke into a gallop, bouncing Logan in the saddle, wind whipping him in the face. For a moment, the noise in his head quieted. There was no constant thought of you, just what he had to do after rounds. 

As they reached the fence line, Logan scanned the horizon, senses on high alert. He knew he was never looking for just coyotes or stray animals; he was always searching for something more. A threat that might never come. Some bullshit hopped-up mutant on a vendetta or some power-hungry human looking to use him.

Now, at a canter, the two patrolled the whole property line as he took deep breaths, inhaling the cold air, trying to focus on the present. On the life he had here. Not what he had left behind. But the past is never far behind, and he had so much past to run from. It would always be near him, lurking in the shadows. The ranch could never drown it out, cover it up, and make him forget. Maybe it was just another reminder he could never truly escape who he was, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Easy now,” he murmured, pulling Weston to a stop near the far edge of the property. He could see everything from here. It was beautiful and peaceful, but all he could feel was the weight of what he was missing. 

Sometimes, he swore he smelt your perfume on the breeze.

“Let’s head back.” Weston turned around, ready to run the way back toward the barn. This routine was the only thing that kept him sane. The work. The responsibilities. Barely enough to keep him busy but not enough to keep him from sinking too far into the darkness in his thoughts. 

He’d gotten lazy the past week and fallen behind on the hay maintenance, so he’d need to buck it today. Move it all from being covered under some tarps to the hay barn. Move them all one by one. He was glad that 150 pounds felt like nothing to him in times like that. 

The chicken coop also needed a roof repair. The last storm did a number on it. Logan bought the supplies the last time he was in town. It just meant stripping the old one off, resecuring the waterproof liner, and hammering the steel roof. Maybe he’d add some more insulation next weekend in preparation for the winter. 

Today was going to be a long one.

───※ ·❆· ※───

A knock on the door echoed in the ranch house, slicing through the quiet thrum of the fridge kicking on and the TV volume on low. He wasn’t expecting company as he stopped mid-swig of his beer, brow furrowed. The neighbors knew by now to leave him the hell alone and had enough run-ins to steer clear of him unless it was an emergency. There were no ranch hands due to arrive until next Monday. 

His boots thudded with heavy steps as he rose from the couch and walked over. The tips of his claws cut through his skin, the metallic ring soft as he reached the door.

He grabbed the handle, ready for it to be blown off the hinges by someone knocking it down.

“Logan, it’s me.” That's a voice he’d recognize anywhere, unmistakable and achingly familiar. The one he longed to hear to the point it drove him crazy. The one he dreamed of every night, of all the terrible things it had said to him because of what he’d done. Heard it in his sleep and his waking hour like a fucking ghost haunting him.

“Can you open the door already? I know you’re in there.”

He blinked as he did, trying to grapple with his emotions brought to light by the reality of you standing there. 

“What?”  his voice cracked. “What are you doing here?” 

You looked so sad, a deep sorrow in your eyes—the kind that had been there when the two of you had argued the night before he left. It made him feel like he missed something crucial like you had lost a part of yourself—one that settled deep in your bones and moved in your muscles and ligaments.

“Charles told me where you were.”

His throat felt painfully tight, as if the words were squeezing his neck. He didn’t expect this- hadn’t expected you to ever ask Xavier where he was and come see him.

Neither of you moved, the door half-open as he stood blocking it.

“You ain’t supposed to be here.”  His tone was gruff. He had been smoking more since coming to the ranch, trying to dull his brain.

Your voice was steady but filled with so much sadness it made him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Plead with you to transgress his sins. Go to confession and tell all his wrongdoings. “I needed to see you again.”

He looked out into the driveway, seeing nothing but emptiness.

“Did you fly over here? You don’t even have your suit on.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “it’s dark out anyways.” 

He stared at you. The porch lights set a soft, warm glow on your skin, the panes of your face made clear. You looked beautiful, mesmerizingly so, as you stared up at him.

“You gonna let me in or not?” 

“Don’t get comfortable,” he grumbled, his tone softer now that you were closer. He opened the door wider, letting you walk past him.

He had the fire going, for which you were grateful. Flying without your suit always left you frigid afterward, especially since Logan had taken to living in the middle of nowhere nestled in the Rocky Mountains. You had always been jealous Storm didn’t have to deal with that. 

The ranch house Logan was living in was quaint. It was a three-bedroom, two-story house built in the 1880s that the previous owners renovated in recent years to feature modern amenities. The floors creaked as you walked, clearly still the original hardwood. He hadn’t done much decorating. It was clear that Charles had been the one to decorate the place for him.

He wasn’t ready to see you. Ready to talk about why he left you in the middle of the night four years ago. 

You quickly found your way into the living and dining room. Logan had left pocket doors open in these two separate rooms. Sitting on the couch, you could see through to the kitchen. A large pot was on the gas stove, the flames flickering on low. It smelled like beef stew.

Logan lingered by the entrance to the living room off of the entry space, unsure of what to do next. Watching you settle into the beat-up couch made him feel a mess of relief and anxiety. He was glad to see you were okay. Your hair was shorter, and you must have cut it after he left at some point. Grey hairs were coming through at your temples. 

“It’s, uh, good to see you.” Having his eyes on you like this made you feel small again. Like he was leaving you all over again.

Logan nodded, swallowing hard. “You too.” 

You smiled at him, and it hurt. Cut him like a thousand glass pieces over and over again. He was getting sandblasted and healing through it. 

He walked into the kitchen, trying to distance himself from you and his feelings, and stirred the stew. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he commented his back to you.

Your hands wrung together automatically, anxiety creeping up your throat. Maybe it was a mistake to come here and see him again when he had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do to you the night he left. “It’s fine, I don’t need to eat.” 

The wooden spoon clatters against the rest, and he puts it down harshly, making you wince. “Nonsense. I can hear your fucking teeth chattering from here.”

“I’m fine, really. It's just wind chill.” 

“Just take the damn food!” Logan bellowed, his hand slamming down against the counter, breathing heavily. “Just take the damn food.” 

You were silent for a moment, reeling. He’d never been like this with you before. “Okay.”

Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and pushed it out of his mouth, trying to steady himself. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, to snap, but just seeing you again put him in confrontation with his past and his own feelings. It was more than he could handle. He grabbed a second bowl from the cabinet, ladling the stew between the both of them. Even after all this time, he took care to give you more potatoes than beef and half his carrots.

“Come sit at the table. Don’t want soup on the damn couch.” 

You moved quietly, always did. It unnerved him when he first met you. Your mutation lets you float more than walk and never hear any footfall when you move. He sat across from you, and you could finally get a good look at him. The years had never been kind to him, but he seemed older now than ever. The past three had been the worst of his life. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face seemed more pronounced. 

The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, cut only by the scrapping of metal spoons against ceramic bowls. The sound echoed in the quiet house with the TV now shut off.

As you finished up your food, he looked antsy. His left leg bounced up and down, hand strumming on the table.

“Thank you for the stew.” you pipped up, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, well, you look like you needed it. " Despite all these years, he still cared for you and loved you. It was evident to you. 

You both sat there momentarily, the silence returning but now filled with different tension. The possibility of reconciliation hurts more than anger.

“Why did you come here?” he puzzled. “After all this time, why now?”

You tapped against the bowl, inconsistent drumming on the sharp ceramic cutting against his ears. “I needed to see you.”

“Bullshit, what do you want”

“Jesus, Logan,’ you finally snapped, lightning crackling as you did. He acted like the wounded party when he was the one who had left you. “Am I not allowed to want to see you?” 

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Far past the age that your powers slipping up due to your emotions should be embarrassing. Static electricity builds up around you.

“You left,” you continued, to reel in your emotions, to keep them in check. “You left me without a word, without an explanation, and now you’re demanding an answer as to why I'm here? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he looked to the side. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have this conversation with you. Not now. The night he left, you felt like he was ripping out his own heart, running from his feelings and the truth about the world around him.

It was like he was on autopilot as he stood from the table, knocking his chair off balance as he went. Like a bull in a china shop, that’s how he moved. He could hear you talking and feel the vibrations in the air, but none of the words meant anything. You were begging him to just sit down and talk to you, a pleading whine in your tone. 

But he couldn’t.

Just like the last time he saw you, he walked out the door with nothing but the clothes on his back into the night down the porch steps. 

The screen door slammed shut as you walked out after him, your body trembling with the intensity of your emotions, your hair standing on end from the static. He never told you what was wrong or why he did what he did. He just left. Tears blur your vision as your back hits the siding of the house, sinking down.

“Logan!” you yelled, calling out after him, voice breaking. “Please just talk to me!”

He didn’t turn around. His figure grew smaller, illuminated by the porch lights flickering from your lack of control. It felt like your heart was breaking again. The ache of his absence, familiar and painful, made all the more unbearable by seeing him again. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“I’m staying here till you talk to me.” 

When he finally came back to the house, knowing all too damn well, he had to take care of the ranch, that was the first thing you told him. He didn’t like it but found it hard to argue with you and Charles. It was impossible to change Charles’ mind; he knew you were too stubborn to leave. So he let it happen. 

Letting you sleep in the guest bedroom across from his was easier. It felt like he slept better since you had shown up. Even if you woke him up in the middle of the night, the floorboards creaking in protest under your weight as you went pee around 4:15 a.m. every night.

He’d lie in his bed, now fully aware of the space in it next to him, listening to the sounds of the house. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the ticking of the clock downstairs, the wind outside. He would never admit it, but you being there gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. The night terrors that plagued him endlessly seemed to ease. For the first time in a long time, he could close his eyes without fear of being swallowed up and spit out by the past. 

During the day, you had a tentative routine with him, and he woke up earlier than you did. It had only been a week since you had shown up. You had left at one point to fly back to the school and get some of your belongings. Every morning, you’d go out to the chicken coop, collect the eggs, and make breakfast. It was nothing fancy, some variation of a bread product, eggs, and a protein. Sometimes, it was pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Other times, it was steak and eggs. Today, it was omelets. 

You’d help out in other ways, too. Go out and move the steer to a different part of their sectioned-off pasture. You were faster at de-ice the troughs, flying, and whatnot, so he let you take over that job. It was hard work, and your muscles ached like they hadn’t for a long time. 

Logan had to admit it’s helpful having you on the ranch. He’s got a greenhouse and some therapy project Charles talked him into, but that’s been looking worse for wear. The weather pattern changed the past couple of weeks, and there’s been an inversion that has left the valley with no direct sunlight. All the plants inside had started to wilt and were on the path to dying, not that he cared. He’d survive without some tomatoes. Then you threw open the door, solar energy pouring out from your palms, and they’d perk right up. You had that effect on plants, hell, people too. 

Something about you, even if you didn’t have your mutation, would have made you shine as bright as the fucking sun to anyone. All wild curls and big smiles, a helping hand to those in need—just one of those people who made the world a better place by breathing. You always said you were just doing your part, but god, there was so much good, so much sweetness in you. If he took a bite, he’d even get a cavity. Seeing you wrapped up in an old wool sweater of his, bent over coaxing a plant back to life, made him feel so ashamed of himself. 

“The plants in the greenhouse look a lot better this week.” 

Some of the leaves crunched underfoot, but most of them were soggy in the mud as you walked over to the steer barn where he was working. One of the steers had a rock impacting his back hoof, and he had to get it out. Logan had just finished spraying it with salicylic acid and wrapping it as you walked in. 

“Like I said, you don’t need to be doing all that.” He grumbled, standing from the stool and leading the cow back to the enclosure. 

Where he spoke dissent and anger, you heard what he really felt. Fear. He was still that little boy in his father's manor.

“It’s not a problem.”

It hurts to be this close to him and not have him, to know that things could just be better if he were honest. 

You'd cook him dinner in the evening, sit at the old wooden table, and comment about the school. About what you’d been up to. You steered away from the elephant in the room. It was best to talk about the mundane things. Sometimes, you’d slip and tell him something more personal than you meant to. He didn’t add much to the conversation because he hadn’t been doing much since leaving you, but he’d chime in about the animals. About the fox that kept creeping around the chicken coop.

Logan still had moments of withdrawal, times when he’d just disappear from the ranch, and you wouldn’t see him till the morning. It was hard on you, a reminder of just how much had changed between the two of you. You used to come home to him after a day of teaching and collapse into his arms on the couch. He’d offer you a sip of his beer, something dark and hoppy, and you’d taste it and declare it’s gross. Logan had told you one day, he’d find a beer you liked, and he’d stock the fridge with it. The closest you’d gotten was some Mangocart IPA that he told you was meant for 17-year-olds, and you told him to go fuck himself. 

Healing wasn’t a straight path forward. And healing couldn’t start until you cut out the festering parts. You can never go backward, but you must go forward while looking at the past. 

The two of you sat on the porch tonight, twilight hues, deep indigo taking over the sky, and the stars coming out. The first night you were out here with him, you couldn’t stop staring at them. Had a whole thing about them since they charged up your mutation, but he just thought you looked gorgeous. Older but still gorgeous. 

That was another thing that scared him. You are aging. He didn’t know how long he had left to live, hell, if he could even die. Some wounds should have killed him many times over, but they never did. They never do. But he's seen you bleeding out and broken after a fight with Magneto, a laceration so severe you had to self-cauterize the wound on the spot and passed out multiple times while doing so. You were getting older, and he was staying the same. 

You were 24 when the two of you first met. Your parents were good folks, never held any bias towards mutants, and helped you learn to control your powers and keep yourself hidden from the government when they were still rounding up mutants. The only reason you got found out was because of Cerebro and Charles. With so little training, it should have scared him how strong you were back then. A few years with Charles, and you were deadly. Deadly, but a pacifist. 

The air was cold. You could see your breath as you rocked in the rocking chair he had out there. Wafts of pungent tobacco hit your nose as he lit up a cigar. He had stopped when you lived together. You looked over at him, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. As soon as your own met his, he looked back out into the night sky. The silence was heavy.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked softly. 

“Miss what?” he drew another drag from his cigar.

“The school. The kids. The…purpose.”

“I think about the students daily. It was good work. Important work. But…” Logan trailed off, searching for the right words. What were the right words to say without telling you everything? “It got complicated.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken part of his statement, drawing your knees to your chest. “It’s still important. And the kids still need you.” 

After all this time, you still wanted him. Despite every wrong he had done to you and all the harm he caused you. The most pathetic part of him was ready to take your kindness, love, and care and bathe in it. Draw you back into the bottomless pit of his life and ruin you like he had all the others. 

You saw him clench his jaw. A twisting wave of guilt and self-loathing ate him up. A man made to destroy and he was afraid to destroy you too.

“The kids will be fine without me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, they’ve been fine without me so far.” He shot back, but there was a hollow note in his voice. There wasn’t any gumption behind it. 

“They’ve managed, but that doesn’t mean they’re fine. You gave them something no one else could, Logan.  They relied on you, they needed you-they need you.” You corrected gently, reaching out to touch his thigh. He was always so warm.

He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from you. “They’ll move on. They’re better off without me.” 

“They didn’t move on, and they aren't okay without you.” 

Logan looked down at your hand on his thigh, his expression a mixture of pain and something else. Something so soft, buried deep beneath the layers of hardened exterior. He didn’t pull away, but you could see his temptation rising.

“I’m not me without you, Logan. Please just talk to me.” Your grip tightened, the denim rough under your fingers, and you begged him to let you in again. To tell you why he left you, why you haven't heard from him since.

He needed to keep you safe from himself.

“You should leave.” Standing from his chair, he threw open the screen door, letting it slam shut behind him as he walked over to the living room. 

You rose after him, chasing him into the house, your heart pounding in your chest. The floorboards cracked up the both of you, echoing in the house. He moved with a desperate, frantic everything. His broad shoulders tense as if he could outrun the conversation you were about to have.

“Why won’t you let me care about you!” You cried out, voice breaking, trembling with the weight of the emotions you've been holding back. He didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but kept going, and your words spilled out like a damn bursting.  “I am begging you to let me in, to let me love you, to stop pushing me away like you do every time! You left me. In the middle of the night, you left. I woke up, and you were gone. And all I have ever asked of you is to let me love you.”

From behind, he looked like a man barely holding together as he reached the living room.

“I don’t want you to.” he ground out. Each word hurt to say, and he hated lying to you. 

“We both know that's a lie, Logan. I’m not stupid. I know you love me. Just please let me in. Why won't you let me in?” 

“Because I don’t want you to wind up fucking dead!” His voice reverberated off the walls. “Everyone and everything I have ever loved is buried six feet fucking deep, and I don’t want you to join the shithole graveyard that is my life.” 

Logan’s voice cut deep through the room, his shoulder hunched as he leaned over the back of the couch. The sob was settling in his chest as he tried to keep it at bay. He didn’t want you to see him crying. It was like he could see you now, lying in that grave, another name added to the long list of people he’d killed or gotten killed.

“You think leaving me is protecting me? You think that by pushing me away, you're saving me?” You hated being an angry crier, the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m already in this. I’ve been in this for years. You leaving didn’t save me—it fucking broke me.”

“I just,” his breath was shaky, knuckles white against the couch as the wood splintered from his grip. “I can’t lose you too.” 

You stepped closer, a hesitant hand hanging in the air a moment before it made contact. Slipping over his back, meeting your other hand in the front as you hugged him from behind. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with sadness. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’m not letting you leave this time.” 

He shook his head, tilting it backward to keep the tears from falling. “You don’t understand. I keep telling you that I’m cursed, that everyone who gets close to me, everyone that I love,” the crack in his voice hurt you, “ends up dead. And I can’t let that happen to you.” 

“You’re not cursed,” you mumbled into his back. “You’ve been through hell, but you deserve a chance at happiness and love.” 

His shoulders shook as the sob he had been holding back finally broke free. He crumples against the back of the couch, wrenching at his waist as his head meets his hands. You went down with him, following the curve of his back with your front, holding him tightly as he cried. 

“I’m here,” you cooed into his ear, your tears cresting down your cheeks. “I’m here, baby.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” he choked out between sobs. 

You tightened your hold on him, wishing that the pressure could soothe his aches and worries and make him feel whole again. That it would wash away all the suffering he’s been through and wipe it from his mind, even if you knew that pain was part of what made him him. 

“Yes, you do. You deserve love and happiness and to find that with me.” 

“I’m just going to hurt you again, like I have before.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me-”

“God dammit, I’ve killed people,” he stood up straight to face you, his voice jumping in volume, shaking you off balance. As you stumbled, he reached out, a hand on your hip to steady you. “I’ve killed so many people that it’d take them years to find all the bodies that I’ve fucking piled up in my 230 years of life. I am a fucking mess of a man who is so goddamn broken, and I don’t want to drag you down in the mess that I have made.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around your face as he did. His beard was grown out, the greys now outnumbered the black, jaw trembling as he spoke. 

“And just when I think I can start to be okay without you in my life, you show up, doll, and it ruins all that progress I made, if I even fucking made any in the first place. Make me realize just how damn much I need you. And how much I am so fucking scared of losing you because I can’t take it if I do.”

You reached up, hand cupping his face against the scruff of his beard. “I know that I’ve always known the life you lived before meeting Charles, and it doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the thought of you shutting me out and living out here on your own till you die. You’re not this terrible monster you think you are. Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but you’ve also done so much good in the world. You’ve saved just as many lives as you’ve taken.”

His eyes softened, tongue darting out to wet dry lips that stuck to his teeth. 

“I can’t change who I am. I can’t be someone you deserve.” 

“I’m not asking you to change.” 

His other hand met your hip, both of them squeezing them tightly as his body shook. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised. It was easy to promise that to him. As much as he needed you, you needed him. “You and me, we’ll get through this, and all that's to come.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

For a long while, he just stared at you, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes searching yours, looking for any doubt or lie in what you said. Fearful you’d sweep the rug out from under him and leave. He couldn’t find any indication of the sort. All he could see was how much you loved him, how much the distance between you had hurt, and how badly you wanted him to let you in.

Logan let out a shaky breath before pulling you into a kiss. His facial hair tickled your face as your lips met. It was intense as his lips moved against yours, his hands sliding down to your ass to pick you up and hold you. You could feel all his longing, desperation, and the despair he had been holding back. His lips were chapped from working outside, not caring for for himself like he should be, but you didn’t mind.

It sent a shiver down your spine, having him so close after so long. He was so warm against you. Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Logan groaned as you did, parting his mouth enough that your tongue could meet his. 

The kiss deepened. You could taste the salt of his tears mingling with your own. His grip on your ass tightened, pulling you flush against his body like he was afraid you might disappear. His mouth moved hungrily against your own tongue, nearly forcing yours into submission as he held you close.  He felt like a man starved. 

You matched his intensity, trying to pour all your love and care into the kiss, your lips moving together in a way that felt both familiar and new. Hoping that enough of your love could spill into his cup and fill him so full it didn’t matter what spilled out his cracks. There’d be more poured in every second. A rediscovery of what the love between the two of you had been. 

The two of you have to part far sooner than he liked, your lung capacity smaller than his own. His eyes were still wet with tears as he watched you, your chest rising and falling as you gulped down the air. 

He leaned in towards you, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he rested his head against your own, moving your ass to rest against the back of the couch. You had changed your conditioner; it smelled like honey now, but no matter how fragrant it was, it couldn’t cut through the smell of you to him. You smelled like home. 

“I’m sorry, doll.” his voice was a murmur against your scalp, heavy with regret. If hammer home the point, he’d bend nail after nail into soft wood, splitting it down the middle with how much metal he’d drive into it, just how sorry he was.

“I forgive you.”

Somehow, he gripped you tighter.“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I know you will.” you pulled away from your position tucked against his chest to look up at him. “Kiss me again?”

He compiled without hesitation, his lips finding yours so tenderly. It was slow, deliberate, a melting of his body with yours. A promise, shared understanding, a soul tie that bound the two of you together.

Pulling away, his eyes met yours, and all he could see was love. 

“You gonna take me to bed or what, big boy?” 

Logan moved quickly up the stairs, taking two of them at a time. The promise of having you again was all the incentive he needed. He missed you. The way you felt under him, the way your pussy felt against his dick. How you fluttered around him every time he angled just right, how you smelt. He'd been jacking off to the thought of you for years now, and finally getting to have you again was like a fevered dream.

It wasn’t graceful the way he swung open his door and tossed you on the bed. You bounced a few times, mattress springs creaking as you did, before propping yourself up with an eyebrow raised, questioning him. No doubt he’d never hear the end of it; could hear you nagging him now. “A spring mattress? Logan? You’re made of metal. You can't have a spring mattress. You know this.” 

You raised a finger, curling in towards yourself, beckoning him closer. He was a dog on a leash for you, moving like a well-trained animal. If they’d found you during Project K, he would have listened to every command they gave. Hell, he’d roll over right now if you told him to. 

His knees enclosed your legs as he crawled over you, dog tags slipping out from his white tank top and dangling in your face. You smelled like him. His body wash and house, mixed with your fruit conditioner. Underneath it all, he could just smell you. The salt on your skin, the heady scent of your arousal. Logan lowered himself, tucking his head into your neck, and took a deep breath, groaning at the smell of you.

“Need you logan.”

That was something he’d missed. That pitched whine in the back of your throat you got when you were all horny and needy for him. Your voice turned raspy and low, caressed his ears so smoothly, and it made him want to purr like a fucking cat. The cadence just scratched an itch in his skull, setting his nerves on fire. 

With a low growl, he cradled your face in his hands, thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, relishing the heat coming off your skin. The little bumps and scars that crossed your skin felt like home to him, a map he’d always know how to read no matter how many years passed. He leaned in, lips meeting yours, and it just felt right. It always felt right. He was stupid for trying to run from you all this time. 

Your fingers laced in his hair on the nape of his neck, fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned low,  wanton, animalistic, your tongue meeting his own in a warm, wet dance. Logan devoured your lips, his hunger for you impossible to sate. It was messy, desperate, the way he clung to you. Grabbing your waist and lifting you closer to him, you felt like a feather to him, all soft flesh and curves against his hard angles. 

He pulled away from the kiss, moving along your jawline and neck, stubble brushing your skin, making it more sensitive than it already was. Not stopping at your neck, he continued down over your collarbones and the expanse of your chest, all the skin he could access in the v-neck you wore. His fingers tugged at the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, perfect fucking nipples already perking up for him.

Logan leaned forward, his lips closing around your nipple. You gasped, back arching off the bed, the cool metal of his dog tags stinging against your skin. His tongue swirled around your nipple, fingers digging in at your waist before he pulled away with a pop, your chest heaving. You always looked so beautiful coming under him, over him, beside him, any position in which your naked body was near his and your flesh met in sinful desire.

“Oh,” his voice was ragged like he had fought all his battles and wars at once. “Oh god, doll…”

Testament and faith could be read about in books and studied. The Bible could teach you of Jesus’ preaching, but true faith, true trust in the unknown, could never be read about. It had to be felt and experienced. Logan slid to his knees, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he went. The fabric of your leggings felt too thick, separating him from his worship. He could smell you through them, through the lace of your panties. Heady, musky, a whine rumbles through his chest as his face falls against your thigh, nose pressed against the fast of your pussy. He breathes in deep, savoring your scent, his mouth watering like he can taste you.

“Doll, please,” he begged, opening his bloodshot eyes, his voice needy. “Let me taste you?” 

“You don't have to ask, Logan,” you replied, smiling. “I’m yours, always yours.” 

Logan hooked his finger into the waistband of your legging and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. The cold air of the room met your skin as he did, but you didn't have long to think about it as he parted your legs, and his hot breath made contact with your pussy. His mouth hovered above for a moment, just wafting in your scent, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Fucking love the smell of this pussy.” he murmured to himself, a low growl, before he dove in, tongue parting your folds.

Wet muscle slid between you so easily before swirling around your sensitive clit, teasing it. His hot breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers flew to his head, trying to find purchase in his hair as he went. Logan was ferocious. He went from your clit to your hole, delving inside you, trying to taste every inch of you. He grabbed your hips, tilting them upwards, making you squeal as he opened his mouth wider on you. Working himself into a frenzy, growling, the vibrations amplified by his adamantium skeleton. It rumbled through you, low and deep, like the base setting of a vibrator.

He takes a second, not quite remembering the perfect rhythm for you right away, but he gets to it quickly. Starts playing with your pussy like a fine-tuned machine the way he has you gushing in minutes. Your wetness coats his tongue, and that engine is firing.

Each stroke, each flick of his tongue on your clit brought you closer to ecstasy. The stars might power you, but he’d have you see them tonight. He devours your pussy like a man starved, primal hunger driving him. You couldn’t fight back, not that you wanted to. All that you could do was let him keep going. Let him take you to the edge. Push you past it. Over it. Your breath hitches, heart pounding in your chest so hard you feel it in your temples.

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. They move on their own accord, desperate for friction. There’s a growing wet spot of precum at the front of his darkening blue jeans.

“Cum for me, doll, please, I need to taste it.” That low vibration of his voice made you whine, hips bucking against him.

Logan spread his tongue flat and mercilessly kept going at your clit. Your moans grew louder, fingernails digging into his scalp as he manhandled you around like you weighed nothing. He gripped your hips tighter, tilting them further, ensuring he had better access to your pussy, before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it. An involuntary squeal came out of you as the added pressure made your back arch. 

The suction made your stomach drop, and your toes curl. He kept swiping his tongue side to side, little pulses of suction in time. It left you writhing and gasping. One of his hands released your hips, moving so that he could slip two fingers into your wet hole. You were so soaked he met no resistance, walls clenching around his digits as he slid them in, desperate for something to clamp down on. The pads of his fingers brush against your G-spot, and the lights of the room glow brighter as you begin to lose control. You’re so close so quickly it feels like you can’t breathe from how overstimulating it was. 

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. Your vision blurred, light filling your eyes, your only point of focus in the world, his mouth on your sensitive pussy.

“Taste so goddamn good,” he licked his lips, breaking the strand before diving back in. Your legs shook, thighs clamping down around his ears. You were so close, you could taste it. Logan picked up the pace, his tongue rapidly flicking over your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering hole. 

The room was filled with sloppy, wet sounds of Logans eating you out mixed with your cries of pleasure. He presses your pussy harder against his face, moaning as he does. You clench around him, body drawing tight like a bow as your release nears, his fangs scrape on the fat of your pussy lips.  It's like you leave your body for a minute, your ears ringing and your heart pumping. Every nerve in your body is lit up.

Logan reaches up to grope at your breasts, and with a pinch of your nipple, you cum with a loud moan that startles the cows, the lightbulbs exploding as you do. Your body trembles and shakes, juices gushing onto his palette like a tall glass of iced tea after a long day of work during the summer, and his thirst is quenched, but his appetite is only hungrier. You felt like you were melting, pleasure pouring out of you.

“Fuck,” you sound winded, “I haven’t had that happen since I was 24.” Your smile shows crow's feet, crinkling comforts near the sides of your eyes as you smile, really smile at him for the first time this week.

“Getting old, kid.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

He ducks to the side to dodge the pillow you throw his way. 

“You want to keep going?” 

“With you, I don’t ever want to stop.”

His eyes go all soft at the corners, caught up in his feelings. “Promise you won’t ever have to again.” 

“Good.”

He picks you up and places you up on the center of the bed, grabbing the pillow you threw at him to place under your hips for support. His clothes come off, and his blue Wrangler jeans drop to the floor with his tank top and boxer briefs. The dog tags stay on. He knows you’ve got a thing for them.  They glint in the dim light, steel catching your eye.

Rough, calloused hands slide up your legs, starting at your ankles, and he kneels between your legs on the bed. He folds you nearly in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders, his hip meeting yours. You feel the curling wisps of his pubes tickle against the back of your thighs. Always been a hairy guy, told you it's how he was so warm all the time. It makes your stomach flutter.

Logan leans down, capturing your lips against his own in a kiss before lining up his pre-cum soaked tip with your entrance. He eases into you with a hiss, your walls squeezing him tightly. The length was never an issue, he was only about an inch and a half above average, but it was the girth that made your jaw go slack and droll pool out the sides as he fucked you. The stretch is delicious as he slides inside you.

The first inch yielded a slick gushing sound from your pussy, while the second made you gasp, and the third had your walls tighten around him, taking his and your breath away. The stretch felt so good with how fat of a cock he had. One that felt so much girthier than you’d ever imagine it to be. His cock twitched, heavy, inside you, his pulse beating in time with yous.

“Jesus, princess, you’re squeezing me so tight. Relax,” he rolled his hip about halfway in and still meeting resistance.  Relax.” It came out like a pant. Fuck you were so tighter, like a vice around him. He wanted to take it slow, cherish you, show you how much he’d been missing you, but he was an old dog, and he wouldn’t last that long with how bad you were squeezing him. 

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails cutting the threadbare cheap cotton ones he’d been using for all these years. “Too much Logan.” You could barely breathe, let alone get the words out.

“You can take it, doll, remember?” he groaned, finally sliding in, flesh meeting yours in a wet slap. Your poor little hole stretched to the max as you whimpered. “See? You can take it.” Logan emphasized each word with a thrust of his hips. 

He felt his control slipping, thrusts starting to pick up, super strength coming into play. It coiled deep in his belly as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “Feel so fucking good. Oh fuck. You’re so perfect, perfect little pussy.”

Logan’s hands move to grab your breasts, pushing them together. He plays with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. His pace is brutal, and the position allows him to hit that perfect spot on your gummy walls that has you seeing stars. He’s all grunts and whimpers, silver tips eclipsing the skin of his knuckles. It gets to the point he wants to go faster, the need to cum inside you far too great, and he lets go of your tits and balances himself on the bed. 

The base of his cock swelled, his knot beginning to grow. This was the part you missed the most. The way he’d stretch you out so good on his dick, only to then slip his knot inside you and stretch you even further. 

“Ain’t gonna last much longer, doll.” 

You moan, reaching down to play with your messy clit. It’s so wet between your legs it’s hard to find any purchase, and the sensitive nub slides back and forth so easily. The bed creaks, the wood floors groan, and the bed frame slams against the wall. He’s getting rougher by the second, his knot starting to press against you. 

“Give it to me, I’m ready.”

Logan thrusts forward, his knot sliding in with a satisfying pop, your words spurring him on. He pulses, cock swelling impossibly large before he cums. Thick, hot white ropes paint your insides as he stutters and groans, nearly growls, dropping to his elbows and forcing your knees to your chest. His hips don’t stop moving, still rutting up into you as you play with your clit. You just need a little bit more to push you over the edge. 

His voice is gravely in your ear as he careens over you, half squishing you with his weight. “I love you.” 

It’s the emotion of the moment that makes you cum. Tears in your eyes and love in your heart. Love is a lot like faith, blind trust in the unknown. A bishop can train his whole life, be a theologian, a scholar of the bible, know all of his god’s teachings inside out, and have less faith than a man who’s lived through hell. Putting your trust into the unknown and praying that good comes back to you. You felt like you were finally home, like that piece of yourself you’ve been missing for years is clicking back into place.

Logan didn’t know romance. He was gruff and awkward, snappy at the random way things. But he stood on the outside when you walked along the street, never let you carry anything, and opened every door for you. Never bought you flowers because he hated the local guy who sold them. But he picked them for you daily on his runs. Didn’t ever wash your laundry, but he folded every piece of clothing you owned and hung up all your shirts, all of it, just because you mentioned hating folding clothes to him once. 

He’d never be able to admit to you how much you meant to him fully. When you came into his life, he was close to ending things. There had been so many dark, endless days that only he remembered now. Horrors beyond human comprehension were his burden, shadowing his every waking moment until you came walking into his life.

There’d be a conversation in the morning that probably would rise into an argument. He’d likely storm off, and you’d be there waiting, telling him to get therapy, and this time, he would. This time, he’d go talk to a shrink about the mess in his head and sort it out for you, for himself. This time he wouldn’t fuck it up and leave you in the middle of the night. He’d have the difficult, uncomfortable conversations that activate his fight or flight. 

You were soft under him as he lifted off of you, still unable to pull out due to his knot. He rotated the two of you so you were on top, your chests pressed together as he lazily traced your spine. 

“I love you too.” 

“I love you more, sunbeam.” 

“Oh, absolutely not. You know I hate that name.”

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you @txjis for beta reading

[buttsmasher]

Heard You were Talking Shit

Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Forced Face Farting, Face Farting, Fart Torture, Multiple uses of the F slur, Asphyxiation by Farts, Passing out from Farts, Eproctophilia, Face humping, Bully cums, Pisses self

Last Monday I opened my locker to find a note waiting for me. It falls to the ground and I quickly squat down to grab the note. When I pick up the note, I see that there’s a lipstick mark and just a phone number. I’m a bit confused, but I text the number anyway.

Hey? Got ur note… Who dis?

Hi cutie xx… Jalissa

Hell yeah, Jalissa is awesome. We went to high school together and I knew we were going to the same college but haven’t run into her yet. I briefly found it weird that she approached me this way but I don’t think too much of it.

We end up talking for like a week before deciding to meet up. She wanted to meet up at the gymnasium at 9:00 PM when it’s close. She has a key to the gym since she works there and I’m game.

However, when I get there, the gymnasium is quiet and the lights are dimmed.

“Hello?” I call out as I walk towards the center of the gym. “Jalissa?” When I reach about half court, all the lights flip on. 

I hear footsteps and turn around expecting Jalissa but end up seeing someone else. “Tristen? Tristen Moretti? What are you doing here?” I look around, maybe he had the same idea as Jalissa.

“Heard you were talking shit.” This moves my attention back to Tristen and I watch as he saunters closer to me. 

“What?” He’s at arms length now. “I don’t know-” He gives me a firm push and I trip slightly backwards but stay on my feet.

“Called the whole wrestling team a bunch of fags.” 

“I mean, the whole sport is a bit faggy.” I comment back. “The whole tight singlet and holding another man and rolling around on the mat. It’s all a bit…faggy.”

He pushes me harder, this time I lose my balance. “The only fag I see around here is you.” 

“Fuck off!” I go to get back up, but Tristen quickly pins me down against the floor. He does some maneuvering and I’m unable to get a good grip on him. The echoes of me and him struggling in the gymnasium is the only sound I can hear until he has my face pinned against his ass.

“I’ll fucking show you faggot.” 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

A rumbling six second fart hits my face. It’s rotten, smelling of garbage and eggs. I start to struggle again, but he pins my arms down to my sides and grinds his sweatpant clad ass against my face. “Eat my fucking gas, faggot!” I try to move my face away from his ass but I have nowhere to go.

PFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFF

More vile gas hits my face and I do my best to hold my breath. Even with doing that, it’s not enough, fumes are still invading my nose.

“Bro, get off!” I grab his hips and try to buck him off, but he uses the opportunity to switch his position. He gets me into a scissor lock and uses his heels to push my head into his ass.

PFFFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFF

“Fuck!” I yell out as my nose is pressed firmly against his ass. I can’t help the dry cough that escapes my lips. The rotten smell has burned its way into my sinuses and I’m starting to worry. 

PBRBRBRBRBBRRRRRR

“Fuck, that was fucking wet.” He comments above me. “How’s that smell faggot?” He releases the pressure of his heels against my head, only to slam my head against his ass over and over again. “Smell it faggot! Smell my fucking ass.”

PFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFFBBRFFFFFTTT PFFFFF

He slams my face hitting his ass with each fart bomb hitting my face. My eyes are watering and I don’t know if I’m breathing correctly. My nose hurts from the repeated slamming and the toxic fumes that I’m being exposed to.

“Dude,” PFFFFFFFFFFTTTT “Stop, please!” BBBRRRRRRFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

“Not happening dude.” PFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFFFFFFTTT “This is what happens when you fuck with the wrestling team.” 

PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

I feel so physically weak at this point, I lose the ability to even try and fight back against Tristen. “Please.” I manage between hacking.

“You want more? Cool, I can indulge faggot.” He loosens his grip on me slightly only to pull his sweatpants down under his ass. He’s wearing a jockstrap that frames his ass. 

“No, no, god no!” I begin to scream as he pulls me back against his ass.

“This is why you don’t talk shit!” He roughly bounces my face in between his ass cheeks as he shakes his. PFFFFFBBRBRBFFFFFFFTTTT His naked ass is much worse than before. His gas burns my nostrils as he keeps ripping noxious fumes. 

“Please...I-I...Can’t breathe.” He doesn’t budge any, instead he pushes harder against my face.

“Good, I wantchu to suffocate in my fat ass.” 

PFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

If he keeps this up, I’m definitely going to start suffocating. I already feel dizzy from all these butt bombs obliterating my nose.

“Gonna make you regret ever talking shit.” He’s already done that. “Eat this faggot!”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

A loud trumpeting 15 second fart hits my face without any filter. Pure garbage gets spewed into my lungs and I start convulsing against him. “Yeah let the gas in. Breathe me faggot!”

PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFTTTT 

He doesn’t let me recover and continues to blast me with his gas. How is anyone even this gassy? “I'm sorry! Please, I’ll do anything!” I try groveling with the little bit of air I have left. 

“Sorry faggot, I can’t hear you. You’ll have to beg louder.”

“Ple-” PBRBRBRBRBRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFF He manages to fart directly into my mouth as I start talking. It’s absolutely rotten and I begin hacking up my lungs again and I feel like I’m going to throw up. “Oh god.” I don’t learn from my past mistake and he manages to fart in my mouth again, this time pushing his ass and pulling my head as hard as possible.

I feel my cheeks inflating as he keeps spewing a 15 second silent but deadly fart into my mouth. I can’t move and my whole body is shaking against him.

“Fuuuuuuck, that feels so good.” Tristen moans above me as he’s grinding his ass against my face. “You still breathing faggot?” Barely, I think to myself as everything starts to spin. I give one last attempt to fight back and push him off me, and to my surprise I get away.

I’m scrambling to get away when I feel him grab me around my waist and pull me back to the ground. “Where you going faggot? I’m not done with you?” I’m seeing triple as he twists me around and forces me back on the ground. 

He pulls his dick out of his jockstrap and starts slapping my face with his cock. I try twisting away but he grabs my head and holds me into place putting his dick under my nose. He starts humping my face and I can feel his dick harden on me.

“I’ll make sure you’ll never forget about this.” He keeps humping me and all I can smell is his natural musk and the lingering scent of his ass on my face. “This is what fucking happens when you mess with me faggot.” 

He forces my mouth open and he starts to spurt cum into my mouth. I go to spit the cum out, but then he sits back down on my face again. “Open up faggot.” 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

His cum gets blown right back in my mouth and I’m forced to swallow his cum and nasty fart. It’s the most vile thing I’ve ever tasted and I can’t stop from gagging.

PFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PFFBBRFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFFF

PFFFFFFFFFFFBBRBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

Barrage after barrage of fart is being forced down my throat and it’s at this moment I fear for my life. I can’t even speak anymore to try and beg for my life and I feel myself spasming. I think I may have pissed myself, I can’t even tell anymore.

All I hear is him laughing, grunting, and his trumpeting farts. I’m going to die like this.

PFFFFFFFFFFFBBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

PFFBBRBRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT PFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

My legs fall slack against the gym floor.

PFFBBRBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFTTBRBFFFFFFFFF

Next my arms fall.

PFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFFFFFF

“Nighty night faggot.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT

I lose consciousness and my head falls against the gym floor.

Minutes or maybe hours later, I awake alone. Lights completely turned off in the gym. 

“Help.” I try to yell, but my voice is hoarse. I struggle to get to my feet and all I can smell and taste is Tristen’s ass. I end up throwing up on the gym floor. 

At least I’m not dead, I think to myself as I make my way to what I assume are the doors. I open a door to find myself in a small bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and see the state I’m in.

Jeans drenched in piss and my face is splotchy and red. Everything smells bad and I go to the sink to try and scrub my face. As I’m about to go another round of scrubbing, I feel my phone buzz.

Jalissa: Hope you had fun tonight faggot xx

I stare at my phone for a bit before throwing it full force against the wall. 

~~~Fin

Author’s Note: Another old story that I found and decided to revamp. I pretty much rewrote the whole thing at this point and changed it from 2nd person to 1st person. I also think I created a new kink for myself? Forcing cum in someone’s mouth and then immediately farting in their mouth? Hello? Has that been done before? Anyways, hope you enjoyed :3

[zvdvdlvr]

Why’d You Have to Wait?

🔥 - synopsis. You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?

🔥 - warnings. Non descriptive torture. Scars. Burns. Very vaguely described mental issues. Slow burn. Friends ro enemies to lovers? Sad hotch. Angst. No happy ending.

🔥 - author’s note. Doing a part two. Hopefully this doesnt flop :)

Aaron had dreams about it now. They were so vivid- lifelike and real. Every time he had them he woke up in a cold sweat, heaving in the bathroom as tears dripped slowly down his face.

He hadn’t gone to the hospital to see you. In fact, Aaron hadn’t seen you since the day you almost died. He rode in the ambulance, but tore himself away from the hospital as he watched the doctors wheel you into the operating room. Your blood had stained his hands, face, and arms for days. Every time the white spots danced in his vision after emptying the contents of his stomach, he swears he can still see the glossy red liquid drip off his fingers.

You were well like. Not only by the team but by Strauss. She had given the team the time off to help y/n recover: sit in her room after another surgery, cheer for her during physical therapy.

Jack loved having time to see his dad after school, but he knew something was wrong after consistently hearing him pad to the kitchen during the middle of the night.

Tonight was no different.

Jack sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked owlishly around the room and stood up. The little Hotchner slowly followed the light to the kitchen and saw his daddy lean over the sink. “Daddy?”

Aaron turned his head and tried to smile at Jack. Aaron knew he probably looked a mess. “Hey buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Before Aaron could set down set down his water cup, Jack crawled up the seat and watched his dad over the counter. “What’s wrong, daddy?”

“I just can’t sleep,” Aaron shrugged, facing Jack with his arms crossed. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

Jack looked at Aaron as if he had grown two heads. “You get up in the night a lot, daddy. And your eyes are red. You cough a lot too.“

Hotch wanted to laugh. Of course Jack knew something was wrong- he always knew. “Yeah. You’re right, kiddo.”

“You yell when you sleep sometimes too. What happened to y/n, daddy? She doesn’t come see me anymore.”

Aaron shuddered as he inhaled. Smart boy. “She got really hurt, buddy. It’s bad. I guess I just… get scared thinking about her getting hurt,” Aaron admits, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.

Jack nodded. “Can we go see her?”

“I- I don’t think we should. She’s still getting better.”

Jack furrowd his eyebrows and tilted his head. “But I miss her.”

“I do t- I bet she misses you, too, Jack, but I don’t know how she’s doing. She might still-“

Jack sighed. “But daddy, she’d be so happy to see me!”

Aaron sighed. As much as he selfishly wanted to see you, he couldn’t. He’d do something he wasn’t proud of- embarrass himself, ruin his reputation of being a mentally and emotionally tough boss, ruin your friendship… No. Aaron couldn’t go by himself, but Jack could go with him. Why hadn’t Aaron thought of it before?

“Okay,” Aaron relented. A smile tugged at his lips when Jack’s face lit up. He scrambled off his chair and collided into Aaron’s legs and squeezed.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Aunt Jess always stays with me when I have a nightmare.”

Aaron bent down and picked Jack up and nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Let me brush my teeth again.”

Jack wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed, as big of a hug his little body could give.

— 🔥

The days were all a blur for you. Now that you were all fucked up, nothing felt right anymore. Second defree burns crawled up the calf of your left leg. Small cuts littered your entire body, scarring and twisting your skin. The worst part was the long, twisting scar that started on your cheek about two inches away from your ear and pulled down to your collarbone.

The unsub, Barney MacMillian, was a sadist. A stupid fucking sadist. He thought he was punishing you for hunting him when he kidnapped and tortured you.

You know the team tried- they really really did try- to cheer you up, to get you back. But the fact that you now considered yourself a monster and how you started to believe the things MacMillian had whispered in your ear as he tore you apart, layer by layer.

Derek genuinely thought your scar was badass, but learned not to bring it up. Penelope just kept rehashing everything- something you had eventually told her to atop doing. Prentiss was cautious, testing the waters. But she eventually got back into a rhythm with you as your best friend. JJ didn’t do anything wrong, she was just really nice- too nice? Spencer was… himself. And you couldn’t thank him enough for just staying him, recitinf facts about burns and scars, knives and blood loss. It was morbid, sure, but you were always close with him and the way his brain worked.

Rossi was the one that kept you together through it all, though. He had conversations with you, long past visiting hours. He talked with you about anything and everything and somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear or talk about. But he kept making excuses for Aaron.

Aaron. The romantic feelings you kept trying to flush away turned into hurt every time Rossi’s eyes flickered away from yours when you asked about him. But you knew now. He didn’t care. He never would. That’s why he didn’t show. It’s the only plausible explanation of why he wouldn’t show up, shoot you a text, something.

So you turned your hurt into anger and stopped asking, ignoring the way your heart would drop to your stomach and how the acid in your stomach churned eveey time you heard his name.

You already had your resignation documenta stored neatly in a magazine in the second table in the nightstand to your right. You were done with it all.

— 🔥

That’s why you felt tears prick in your eyes when you saw Jack Hotchner leap into the room. His little eyes scoured your face, eyes dragging down the healing skin on your face. You heard Aaron’s footfalls stop short at the door. Your jaw clenched and you stared at Jack, waiting for him to start crying and ask to leave.

But he didn’t. He just smiled and leapt into your arms, completely unaware of the physical pain in your leg and body. He just wrapped his arms and legs around you.

You sat still, eyes looking at Rossi, who smiled at you. You hadn’t yet looked at Aaron and didn’t even want to. Carefully you wrapped your arms around Jack’s back, ignoring how fast the tears left your eyes.

Jack pulled back and looked at you with a smile that faded the second he saw your tears. In all of your time (almost 10 years) at the BAU, Jack had only seen you cry once. And that was during a movie. 

“I thought coming to see you what make you happy,” he sad, voice sad. “Why are you crying?”

You smiled at him, sniffling pitifully. “I’m not sad, little J. I am really happy to see you,” you said. You hoped Aaron would hear the sharp undertone in your voice. Judging by Rossi’s huff of a laugh, he did.

“Oh! Well, I brought you stuff. I know you like the Black Widow because she’s really cool, so I brought you a coloring book,” Jack explained as he brandished his backpack full of stuff. You listensed intently, only looking up when Rossi got your attention and nodded to the door to signal him leaving.

Jack kept talking and you were overjoyed to listen. He was a pleasent little man, making your time more enjoyable. He opened up the coloring book he bought and started coloring after giving you a Beanie Baby he had that you mentioned you liked. He also got you a necklace- that Aaron no doubt spent a pretty penny for- that had your birthstone set in it. Jack watched you carefully as you opened it, and he put it on with his chubby fingers. You didn’t tell him that you would have to take it off soon after he left so it didn’t kill you when you slept. Hospital policy or something.

Soon after you finished your own coloring page featuring the Black Widow and Tony Stark making a hero landing, Jack turned on the T.V. and fell asleep.

“Hey,” Aaron said finally.

You nodded. “Hi boss.”

Aaron bit his lip. You stared forward, hand threading through Jack’s hair. Aaron felt his heart clenching in his chest. He didn’t know how you were gonna react when he came by, but he didn’t expect this- this silent treatment. He didn’t really blame you though. He wanted more than anything to make it up to you, to get you smiling again, but he knew the distance was probably better. For him at least.

“Y/n-“ Aaron started.”

You cut him off with. “Jack’s asleep, sir. It would be best not to wake him.”

Sir. You only called him sir if you were mad. Aaron swallowed. He knew he fucked up. Would he ever be able to fix his mistake, bring the old you back? He pondered the questions as he leaned back in his chair and watched the television show Jack chose before he fell asleep.

— 🔥

“Y/n is getting sent home today,” David’s voice crackled through the phone. “We wanted to take her out to dinner, something nice. Are you coming?”

Aaron sat at the kitchen table, checking over Jack’s homework. Jack himself was sitting a couple feet away on the couch. “Probably not. I have Jack.” 

Rossi scoffed on the other line. “She loves Jack and he loves her. Bring him with you.”

“I don’t know,” Aaron sighed. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Dave, she hates me.”

Silence. Rossi exhaled and shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, but you’re giving her a lot of reasons to. Clean yourself up and meet us all at the address Garcia’ll send you. 6:00. Be there, Aaron. If not for her…” he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. “Then for Jack.”

— 🔥

David convinced you all to wait until ordering.

But when 6:45 rolled around and Aaron didn’t show, you just clenched your jaw and ordered a neat whiskey.

[thecharacterchronicler]

District Girl (Part 2) || (Peacekeeper) Coriolanus Snow x Reader || Smut

Outline: Coriolanus doesn’t like how friendly you are to other men and how much you ignore him on his evening out at the Hob. So he decides to leave you with a lasting impression of him.

Word count: 4’189

Warnings: possessive and obsessive behavior, power imbalance, unprotected s*x and explicit smut.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on making this a series, District Girl was just an attempt to get me out of my writer’s block to finally finish my other Coriolanus Snow series but since a few people requested more, here’s a part 2. Thanks for being so supportive of my writing, it truly means a lot. 🖤

(( Part 1 )) - (( Part 3 ))

They had been running for half an hour in the heavy heat, circling the barracks as their commander yelled orders at them. Coriolanus knew the man was trying to motivate his troops by insulting them, barking at them that they were worthless and useless, that even his grandma would do better at running in such a humid climate but this kind of tactical psychology didn’t seem to work on the young man. The more he heard his superior taunting them, the less he wanted to comply to his orders. He simply hated authority.

When he still was a student at the academy, he only had to show the due respect to his professors and - although the dean was an idiot - none of them had power over his every action and thoughts. Now as a peacekeeper, he was supposed to mindlessly follow orders from people regarded as better than him, even though some of them came from districts that were almost as poor as district 12. It was an aberration. One that Coriolanus would immediately fix if he had his say on how Panem was ruled.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, his pale eyes were burning with such intense sunlight. He felt uneasy. He dropped to his knees, his shirt so wet it was glued to his frame.

“Get up or get out, Snow!” The commander yelled, bringing everyone else’s attention on him. He felt embarrassed. He didn’t want the others to think that he was weaker than them. Especially not when Smiley seemed close to fainting too and Junius was paler than he had ever seen him before.

Coriolanus stood back up, wiping his face with his humid hand. He needed water. He needed to be dry. He needed a lot of things but running wasn’t one of them. So he left, heading back to the barracks under his superior’s disappointed glare.

He immediately went under the shower, letting the cold water wash the sweat and filth from his body. He knew he’d be sweating again the moment he’d step out from under the water and his dry spare uniform wouldn’t stay in this state for more than an hour or two so he took his time, closing his eyes and leaning against the cold bathroom tiles.

His heart was hammering in his chest, from the effort most likely but maybe also because, for the past few days, he hadn’t been able to look at his cock without thinking about your lips closed around it. He didn’t even know your name, you were just a district girl, and yet, you had invaded his every thoughts. Day and night, he kept replaying the events in his head, remembering how good it felt to fuck your mouth and what a lovely sight you were, on your knees in front of him.

He had been taking care of the erection such images gave him as well as he could. Most times, he was able to see you again when he closed his eyes and focused hard enough on recalling your features. He clearly remembered the color of your eyes because he had been mesmerized by them and the way they watered when he was mercilessly thrusting his cock down your throat. But, to his utter despair, he couldn’t quite picture what your body looked like anymore. He knew it was perfect, tailored exactly to his taste, but the images were vanishing from his mind the more days went by.

He turned the shower off, his cock hard and begging for relief again. Fortunately, his bunkmates were still busy being tortured by the commander so his dorm was empty.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, leaning to retrieve a piece of colorful fabric from underneath his pillow. He kept it neatly folded, ready to be used if he needed it. That piece of your skirt proved to be pretty useful in times such as this, when his cock was begging to fill you up again.

He ran the fabric through his fingers, remembering how that skirt hugged your hips. By the time he removed the towel from his waist, his erection was rock hard, practically throbbing with desire.

He closed his hand over it, the soft fabric of your skirt enveloping his sensitive skin as he slowly started to pump. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

A shudder shook his body, his need for relief becoming almost unbearable. The cool textile of your clothing felt nothing like the warmth and wetness he had found in your mouth. He was certain that your pussy wouldn’t be cold either, it probably would feel as unbearably hot and humid as the weather did. He tightened his fingers around his shaft, trying to mimic how tight he imagined you’d feel with his dick buried deep inside you. He increased the speed of his movements, imagining your perfect body bouncing in reaction, your eyes watering again from how brutally he was ramming inside of you and then, he’d spill his release in you. There would be so much that it would stain your panties afterwards. It would drip from your tight cunt. It would be a reminder that he had marked you as his.

Unfortunately, the image of you completely spent and dizzy with pleasure under him faded from his mind, replaced by the cruel reality. An important amount of cum was coating the piece of your skirt, wasted instead of filling you up.

He thought about trying to clean it up, wanting to make this keepsake of you last forever, and in pristine condition if possible. But the noise of the returning peacekeepers forced him to abandon the idea, at least for now. He quickly put his spare uniform on as footsteps were approaching and, just as the door of his dorm opened, he discreetly slipped the fabric stained by his seed inside his pocket.

“Man, training beat my ass today. I think it calls for a beer or two.” Junius told him, as he gathered his towel and soap for the shower. “Let’s go to the hob tonight.”

Music was playing, people were happily chatting and laughing, good spirits filling the old warehouse. Coriolanus only agreed to accompany his colleagues because he was in desperate need of a strong drink to numb his mind, but he didn’t like how the Hob still smelled like coal and sweat, even though it had been abandoned for a while.

The good mood of the residents of district 12, enjoying the music and a drink after a hard day at work, and the apparent excitement of his bunkmates did very little to help lift up his spirits. He had heard better music in the Capitol and clearly, alcohol was far more raffined and tasteful there than here. If anything, the drink he had been served tasted like fermented potatoes. But well, at least it did the job and helped him relax a bit.

But his calmness didn’t last long. His whole body shot up straight and alert when he saw your familiar face among the crowd, smiling at a peacekeeper that wasn’t him. It made sense that, sooner or later, he was going to see you again but he wasn’t expecting you to be the kind to hang out at the Hob late a night. But then, what did he know ? It wasn’t like he had any idea of what kind of person you were. All he really knew was that you were amazing at sucking his dick… It should have been enough. He should move on and stop thinking about it. About you. But he couldn’t.

“Hey boys, do you need a refill ?” You asked them, startling Coriolanus. He had been lost in his thoughts about you again, so deeply that he hadn’t noticed you approaching him and his cock slowly came alive at the sound of your voice.

Junius handed you his empty cup and you winked at him. Then, you turned around to take a look at Coriolanus’s glass, still fairly full.

“I’ll be right back with a cold beer.” You told Junius, smiling at him but barely acknowledging the other peacekeepers’ presence. Including his.

Coriolanus watched you make your way through the dancing crowd all the way to the bar set up in the corner of the warehouse. You slipped behind the counter, filling up Junius’ cup at the same time as you engaged in another conversation, with another peacekeeper.

“I think she was flirting with me.” Junius said, smugly. Smiley agreed, even clapping a hand on his back as a congratulating gesture but his enthusiasm died down once he noticed the way their friend was glaring at both of them.

He didn’t like you smiling so carelessly at everyone. Surely, many other men were as dumb as Junius and would believe that you were openly flirting with them. They’d probably attempt to flirt back. What if that bothered you ? Or worse, what if you liked it ?

And why were you ignoring him ? Out of everyone else here, he should have been the only one worthy of your smiles, and yet, you had barely even glanced at him. Could you have forgotten him ? Impossible. Not when you were obsessing him day and night, surely you must have felt the same. You probably touched yourself at night while thinking about him just like he did when he thought about you. Right ?

You walked back to their little group, handing a cup overflowing with foam to Junius. He paid for his drink, and you slipped the coin he gave you in the pocket of your apron with an enthusiastic thank you. That was when Coriolanus finally noticed what you were wearing today, the same kind of basic shirt you were wearing the other day and the same skirt, still torn and shorter than what he remembered, covered by a stained beige apron.

“Do you work here ?” Coriolanus asked you, finally managing to catch your attention.

“Yes, do you need anything?”

He stared at you for a moment, trying to figure out if you really didn’t remember him or if you were simply pretending, maybe out of politeness in front of his colleagues. But since he couldn’t interpret the fake smile plastered on your face, he shook his head to answer you and you nodded back at him, leaving his group without another glance at him.

He watched as you talked to other men, smiling and even laughing at one peacekeeper’s joke. His friends didn’t notice, thanks to the alcohol they kept gulping down, but he was growing incredibly irritated by your behavior. You didn’t pay him any attention, doing your job and, even when someone needed you to refill their glass nearby where he was standing, you still wouldn’t look at him.

Was he that forgettable ? Maybe. He could understand that you wouldn’t have cared about pleasuring him that much since you got nothing out of it after all, apart from getting out of trouble. He hadn’t exactly blown you away with his skills so how could you know what you missed ? Perhaps you needed him to show you what he was capable of too. Then you’d obsess over him just as much as he did over you.

Yeah, it was a good plan. He’d be a gentleman, approach you politely and sway you with his charm so that you’ll give him a chance to show you how lucky you were to be the center of his attention.

But there you were again, smiling at Junius as you brought him another cup of foaming beer and, judging by how Smiley clapped his bunkmate’s back again, he was about to make a move on you. How stupid could he be ? As if he could ever be your type.

“You know, I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere more… Quiet ? With me ? You know why.” Junius told you, his wobbly voice betraying how many drinks he had had already. Coriolanus rolled his eyes at his friend’s pathetic attempt to flirt. It was even sadder that he knew Junius would have never dared to even look at you if he hadn’t drank four cups of liquid courage beforehand.

“Maybe later ?” You shrugged, with a smile that made Junius’s eyes go wide in shock. Smiley cheered for his friend because it wasn’t as bad as the refusal they were all expecting, which caused Coriolanus’ blood to boil. What the hell was wrong with you ? “I still have a few hours left in my shift.”

You walked away, leaving both peacekeepers staring in excitement and slight disbelief. Was it a yes ? A promise ? Even Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knew it definitely wasn’t the answer he had hope you’d give his friend.

He downed his cup in frustration - he too in need of a dose of liquid courage after all - and took off after you, following you all the way back to the counter. You didn’t notice him right away, busy filling up a glass for a patron but, when you walked away, he grabbed you by the arm, making you spill the beer over your shirt.

“I need to talk to you.” He said, very aware of a few pairs of eyes staring at him, an array of saviors ready to fly to your rescue if you showed any sign that he was bothering you.

“Crap.” You breathed, trying to clean up the drops that would surely be making your skin sticky later. Coriolanus took the glass out of your hand, placing it on the counter with a thud. You still were ignoring him and he was done being patient.

He dragged you to the door behind the makeshift bar, not knowing where it led but satisfied when he stepped into a supply room, filled with barrels of -most likely illegal - alcohol and a few crates of old bread. He closed the door, feeling instant relief as the music suddenly felt miles away instead of blasting in his ears. You stared at him, crossing your arms over your chest with an expression that made it clear that you weren’t happy with him.

Good, that made two of you.

“Did you suck off every peacekeeper in this District to not even remember me ?”

“I do remember you but I didn’t know we were supposed to be best friends now ?” You replied, your tone impatient. “And what if I did suck everyone off anyway ? Could you really blame me ? Sometimes you’ve got to do what you can to ensure your survival. I’m sure you know what it’s like if you ever knew poverty. Maybe someone in your family had to do the exact same thing. Maybe they’re still doing it, who knows ? That’s just how the world works.”

He had to repress a grimace. He didn’t like to think about what his cousin may have done for their survival… And he liked it even less thinking about you, giving yourself away to all these men for the same reason.

“What do you want ? Another round in exchange of your silence ?” You asked him. It was exactly what he wanted. But now that he knew he was just one out of many others, it didn’t seem that appealing anymore. Not if it meant you’d be able to go on with your life afterwards, without thinking about him while he would stay completely captive of the idea of meeting you again. You looked at him and your eyes suddenly softened, a blush creeping up to your cheeks. “Did you… Did you just want to bring this back to me ? I’m so sorry, I’m so used to other men wanting to take advantage, I assumed you would too.”

Coriolanus was a bit confused by such a change in your behavior, you went from upset with him to relaxed in a matter of seconds and he wasn’t even sure he understood why, until he followed your gaze to the pocket of his uniform, from which the torn piece of your skirt was peeking out. He couldn’t give it back to you. He needed it. And after what he had done to it, he couldn’t even let you touch it. If you did see the dry cum covering the fabric, you’d know how he had lost his mind thinking about you.

“I’m nothing like the others.” Coriolanus stated, a bit vexed that you thought he was.

“I see that now.” You assured him, approaching him with a smile. You were waiting for him to pull the piece of fabric out of his pocket and hand it back to you but he couldn’t. He stayed still, internally panicking and trying to find a way out of it. In front of his silence, your eyes grew weary. “Unless you wanted to ask me something in exchange of it ?”

Dammit. If he didn’t react quickly, you’ll think he’s like the others again. You’ll think he wanted to take advantage of you and now he knew you were far more compliant and friendly when you trusted him to not do that.

“No, of course not.” He said, managing to keep his voice calm and low enough to not betray his panic. “In fact, I came to make sure that we’d be even.”

You raised an eyebrow at his words, curious to hear what he had to say. He smiled, glad that he had managed to catch your attention. Adapting his behavior and words in order to seduce the person in front of him was something he usually was good at, even though he didn’t have that many opportunities to practice his talents anymore.

“What do you mean ?”

Instead of answering, he closed the gap between your bodies and pressed his lips on yours for a passionate kiss he had often dreamed about. He hoped it would be good enough to change your mind, make you forget about the piece of your skirt he had discreetly tugged back into his pocket. But, as much as he wanted to make you lose your mind, his own thoughts grew hazy at how badly he wanted you. That kiss, as hungry and wet as it was, got rid of the last of his restraints. His body surged with desire, drawn to yours like a magnet, hungry like you were the only thing that could save him from starvation.

He reached low and cupped your ass in his large hands, hoisting you up in his arms. A surprised sound escaped your lips but you didn’t protest, circling his waist with your legs to steady yourself in his arms. He took a few steps until you felt the wooden table on which a few crates were stacked and you jumped when you heard the noise of them tumbling to the floor, making room for you instead.

Coriolanus sat you on the now empty table, his gaze wandering to your thighs, your skirt pulled almost all the way up. Both of you watched his hand tentatively reach between your legs, bringing your skirt and apron out of the way and revealing your panties. He trailed a finger over the fabric, feeling the warmth and humidity collecting between your folds. It reminded him of how it felt when his cock slided in your mouth, and the thought of what it might feel like to bury himself in your pussy this time almost made him dizzy with desire.

Every time he had thought about you, he had imagined fucking you sensless. Taking your pussy, shooting his release deep inside you and eventually letting you suck his cock clean afterwards. But, after what you had told him and now that he knew that what you wanted was someone who wouldn’t be egoistic enough to take and never give back, he had no choice but to fight against the almost painful strain of his cock aching for you.

It took all of his willpower to not give in when he slowly brought your panties down your legs. You were so ripe and ready to be fucked already. Was it the effect he had on you ? If he could get you this wet with just a kiss on the lips, he had no doubt that you wouldn’t ignore him ever again. Not after what he was about to do to you. To show you just how different he was from the others. And how he should be the only one allowed to touch you from now on.

He fell to his knees in front of you and parted your wet folds with his tongue. You gasped and his cock painfully twitched at the sound. He held your thighs apart with a strong grip on them. His tongue taking a few licks before pausing to fully taste you.

Delicious.

He licked a few more times, without any pattern in mind, just for the pleasure of tasting you on his tongue over and over again but, from the ragged breaths coming out of your mouth, it seemed that you liked it anyway.

When he felt your bud, right there under the tip of his tongue, he brought himself closer so that he could suck on it, causing you to throw your head back with a moan.

Then, his tongue wandered to the hole he so desperately dreamed about filling with his cock. He brought it past your tight entrance, making his nose press against your sensitive clit which got another moan out of you. Your hand found his head, dragging him even closer to you, as if you wanted him to get even deeper. So he did his best, continuing to gently fuck you with his tongue while the friction of his nose between your folds made your body tremble.

He gasped for air, moving away and instantly regretted it. You were leaning back on the table, one hand squeezing your boob, teeth biting down on your lower lip to keep yourself from being too loud. Your thighs were wide open for him, your pussy glistening with his saliva and your own arousal. Your clit was red, almost swollen from his rough sucking and it took every damn inch of himself to not instantly get up and shove his dick inside you. Your body was practically begging for it, so perfect and ready for him, as if you existed solely to be fucked by him.

But no, he wouldn’t give in. As painful as the perspective of taking care of his erection on his own, under the covers of his bed while his friends would be sleeping was, he was determined to leave an everlasting impression on you this time.

He took a deep breath and shoved his face to your pussy once more, making you whine and beg for release. Once his jaw couldn’t quite follow the rythym you needed anymore, he decided to use his fingers instead, pinching your mistreated bud while his other finger passed the tight ring of your entrance, exploring you deeper than his tongue could. He pushed it as far inside you as he could before he started his back and forth motions, mimicking what he would do if it was his cock filling you up.

He went faster. Faster. Faster. Until you gasped in pleasure, your walls tightening and pulsating around his finger. Your whole body contracted, your thighs closing in around his neck. Your mouth opened to let out a cry and once again, Coriolanus had to fight against his very primitive instincts to keep himself from shoving his hard cock in your mouth to silence your cries.

Once finally your body relaxed, he stood back up, a smug grin on his face. Of course, he would have liked being the one to get a bit of relief - he was still so hard and ready for you - but he felt oddly proud at how strongly you had orgasmed because of him. Surely, if his fingers and mouth could do that, you’d be obsessing and fantasizing about his cock for the rest of the week.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and adjusted your hair and skirt, a lovely crimson blush on your face. You noticed the impressive buldge in Coriolanus’s pants and pressed a hand against it, wanting to thank him properly for the intense pleasure he had given you but he moved your hand away, shaking his head and kissing you instead.

“You’ve got to work and I have some friends to walk back to the barracks before they do something stupid.” He explained, his body violently protesting and wanting to let you give him some relief too but he was determined to follow his plan. “But maybe we could meet again sometime ?”

You nodded, still seeming a bit struck by the intensity of your orgasm. With a grin, he planted one last kiss on your lips before leaving the supply room, the torn piece of your skirt still securely tugged in his pocket.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[col0rlord]

Helpful to me

Sum: Paige can hear you from the other side of the wall and wants to join the party in your bedroom.

Warning: Mature contents ahead 18 plus

--------

Knock

Knock

Knock

On my door around 11:53pm. I opened it and there she is in all her glory. Paige Bueckers 

“Hey. Are you busy?” she asked, leaning on the door frame. She was always like this when she came to my door. Asking for things and flirting with me to get my way. She stood above me about 4 inches looking down, smirking. She knew what she was doing.

It was like she was staring into my mind. Lord if she knew what you were thinking you think you would never show your face again. 

“What is it?” I asked, trying to shake the thought out of your head. Trying to act as if I wasn't thinking about her in ways every other girl did. I just get to live this torture she does everyday. Her standing there and staring down at me and licked her teeth as her mouth was open.

She put her controller up and waved it around. 

“Batteries, Double A.” She said smiling. I walk away from the door leaving it open for her to walk in. Walking in looking around as if she isn't here everyday asking for something. Looking through you drawers for the extra batteries. Not finding them.

Oh. my. God.

“Shit, give me a minute.” I say running to my room. I used the last two for my use and my pleasure. Pulling a box out from under your bed and pulled two out from my bullet, unscrewing the bottom and letting the last two fall out. I threw it back in the box quick and shoving it back under the bed. walking to the living room to see she was just inches from my door frame. Laying them in her palm she was holding out. “Here are my last two. You own me batteries.” 

“How about I own you something better other than that little thing you took these out of?” She said. This was nothing out of the ordinary for her. I just shook my head playfully, smiling and pushed her out the door.

“Knock if you need me. Or moan. I will get the memo.” She says winking as she closes the door.

Later that night when I was trying to sleep all I could hear is Fortnite gunshots and yelling over and over for her to only getting second.

Still getting the flashbacks of the earlier events. I feel that pool start going. I lower your hands in your sleeping pants. Feeling how wet I am from just the thought of her. This wasn't out of the ordinary for me either. Rubbing on your clit as I close my eyes, picturing it was Paige running her hands down your body and touching me. I curse her name and moan as I dip two fingers inside myself.  

I moan out her name and a string of stutterers. The nerves I hit as you run your fingers over the bud and jolts of pleasure run up your body. I feel yourself closer to the high as I slowly drag my other hand and grab my tits. Rubbing my thumb over the bub and moaning louder. I was so lost in my fantasy I created. I hadn't realized the gunshots and the yelling have stopped.

I feel my high coming to a peak and waiting to tip over the edge. Watching as if a glass of water was to be poured on a growing flower and it grow from ever drop. I was so close I was practically begging myself to cum as if it was Paige I were begging for. Who am I kidding? I was begging for her to come in here and take me away form my own work.

“Paige please, yes. Oh my god...fuck... yes right there please don’t stop. I’m about to cum-”

Knock

Knock

Knock

Then it was gone. Oh my god whoever it is better tell me the building is on fire.

I walk to my door and open to see a sight of the girl I was just rubbing my clit and fingering myself to.

“I need your help.” She said with her hands in her pockets and looking back up from the floor.

“Meet too” I say as I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. 

After I pull her inside I slam the door behind her and push her against it and kiss her deeply and messy. She kissed back and lifted up my shirt, taking it off and grabbing my tit.

My hands find the back of her neck and pull on her hair a little in the back. She pushes me back into the counter and lifts me up on top of it. Kissing all up and down my neck and on my collarbone leaving markings. Moaning at her touch and sucking around my neck. Holding her head as she goes down and licks my nipple and all around them till my chest is covered in her brand.

"This is what I like to see. What I have wanted" She said pulling away admiring what she did to me

I can’t take the teasing and whine for her to touch anymore. As she is kissing me she is working on my pants trying to wiggle them off my body and down my legs throwing them on the ground. Kissing all down my stomach and thighs looking up at me. She licks the first strip up my folds. As her tongue flattens and glides between me. She rolls her eyes and moans. God I could hear her moan all day long. Its like hearing the water crash to the shore the first day of vacation. She sucks my clit in her mouth and holds my legs to lay on her shoulders. Wrapping my legs around her head to hold her closer as I cum down her mouth and neck. I throw my head back and hold her closer begging her for all she has in her.

I lay my back down to the counter and the cold marble sends chills down my spine and Enhances the feeling for the heat coming off my body from the moment.

I feel her push a finger inside m at hand.e and remove her mouth from my swollen clit. 

“Is this what I was hearing on the other side of my wall? Moaning my name out as if I wasn’t able to hear you from my room. I told you I would come if you need anything and I meant anything. Should have done this the first night I heard that pretty mouth moan my name” She said as her fingers went inside of me slowly. I grabbed her hand to make her go faster but she pulled away. Coming back and pushing two inside me this time “Oh baby, you are so tight and wet for me want to hear those whines all night long. I want the people to hear you moaning my name again and again.” She said as he picked up her pace with her fingers.

“Fuck Paige please I need to cum on your fingers. they feel so good inside me. better than I imagine .” I moaned out and looked her in her blue eyes. She wrapped her arm around my stomach and pressed down as she curled her fingers up. Right when she did that I let go of everything I was holding in. Waiting for the perfect time to cum and let it build up for the best high. nothing can ever feel better than this moment right now

“Good girl, coming all on my fingers. God you taste so good baby. I have been dreaming for this moment. Everytime I hear you with your little toy I just can’t help but think of how that could be me pleasing you. How i could do so much better than anything and anyone” She said as she came back up to kiss me. Tasting myself on her lips. She pulled back and licked the rest off her lips.

"We can take the rest of this to my place tonight. only if you want to come inside, because I know I want to come inside." she said as she helped me off the counter and picked up some of my clothes that where laying on the ground.

"Lets continue this at your place then shall we?"I asked as I snatched them out of her hands and put them back on.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 3

Marcus tries to ruin your relationship with Nikolai

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, physical abuse, cunnilingus, violence, extremly violent chapter but not towards reader, vomiting

Masterpost

It was Tuesday and you were scared. Marcus hadn’t fucked you but he was still determined to piss of Nikolai, spending the day torturing you, making sure you were freshly bruised and battered for Nikolai. He’d dragged you into his ‘office’ and smacked you across the face, yelling about how you were a whore. 

You were angry you just laid there and took his abuse. What else could you do? He was bigger. He could kill you and get away with it. They would just send Nikolai another girl, he wouldn’t even question it. 

You had this little thing. A little piece of hope. A horrible man that was occasionally kind and regularly generous. Marcus just had to ruin it, ruin you. You’d stumbled to the door, having to re enter the code three times before getting it right and being let in.

You stood in that little locked room. A white gift box sat waiting. You knew he was watching. He could already see your hair was a mess and your makeup was only half done. You winced as you shrugged your coat off. At one point you thought Marcus was going to dislocate your arm just for the fun of it.  You chewed on your lip till it bled, what was another injury?

You held the bottom of your shirt but couldn’t bring yourself to pull it up and over your head. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you collapsed to your knees. The first time he met you he said he liked that you could follow instructions. You couldn’t do that anymore. 

You knew so little of this man. You hugged yourself, ready for his rage. He’d grab you by the hair and drag you down the hall, strip you himself and force himself inside you. The lines of grout between the tile distorted as tears clouded your eyes. 

The door opened and you let out a sob, shaking uncontrollably. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered to his shoes, too terrified to look up. You were a dog at his feet. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

“What happened, Kotenok?” He knelt down in front of you. “Did Arno hurt you?”

You flinched when he touched you. Waiting for pain was almost always worse than the actual pain, just the anticipation of what was going to happen to you made you nauseous. 

“I just want to see.” He tilted your chin up and tutted at the bruises and swelling. “Come here. I’ll clean you up.”

He wrapped an arm around your middle and hurried you upstairs to his bathroom. You whimpered out apologies the whole way. 

“Did Arno do this?” He made you look at him, his expression conveying that he wouldn’t ask again.

“No. Marcus did. He…he was my boyfriend and he’s the reason I…that I’m here.” You don’t know why you tried to hide your situation from yourself. He’s the reason you were trafficked, raped, beaten and all other horrid things that had happened to you. You could never find the ability to say those words out loud, especially not to a man who had helped facilitate it. 

“He work for Arno?”

You nodded, trying not to break into sobs again. 

“I’m going to take your clothes off. You’re going to take a bath. I will handle the rest.” He helped you take off your clothes and ran the water for a bath. The tub was large and deep so the water came up to your collarbones easily. It was hot and the bubbles smelled like lavender. He ran a hand over the top of your head,  “I’ll be back.”

You heard him yelling in the other room. You were glad Arno was getting an earful but Nikolai’s words did little to make you feel safe overall.

“Waste my fucking money!” 

“I won’t fuck her like this!”

“I’m not paying!” 

“Make it right.”

You were something he paid for, damaged goods. You could count your lucky stars that he hadn’t thrown you back out but he wouldn’t take mercy on you. You’d still end up spreading your legs for him, letting him take what he pleased. Marcus not fucking you was the only reason Nikolai still would. 

You rested your head on the edge of the tub, the ceramic was cool against your face. The bathroom door reopened and Nikolai walked in, stripping as he approached.

“He won’t touch you again. Not like this.” He said, light up a cigar.  He got into the tub behind you, water sloshing everywhere. The irritation was palpable in his voice, muttering, “I pay too much for you to show up at my door like this.”

He pulled you into his lap and blew his smoke above your head. You were afraid to relax into him. The heat radiating off him felt angry. You were a very small creature, resting between the teeth of a monster. 

“Kotenok, I need you to be honest with me.” The smell from his cigar was already making you woozy. He laid a hand at the base of your throat and pushed you back against him, “Did you tell them anything about me?”

“No, sir.”

“Kotenok…” He squeezed your neck, metal from his rings fitting between muscles and veins. 

“I promise! He…Marcus gets jealous still.” Your words came out hurried, stumbling over each other.  “Arno embarrassed him so he took it out on me. They were mad about the twenty four hour thing. Marcus wanted to ignore it. He…”

Nikolai released your neck and moved his hand to your forehead. 

“Kotenok, I believe you.” You breathed out slowly. All you could think about was how easily he could push your head under the water and hold you there. “You did good. We need to establish a rule though.”

“Okay.”

“I need to know I can trust you. I know you’re a smart girl. You know I’m not a saint.” You nodded along with his words. “But I take care of those who show me loyalty. Pussy of a man can't stand the girl he turned into a whore is now a whore so he beats her, it happens. A man’s favorite whore gets taken, beaten, raped, tortured, it can happen.” It felt like your whole body must have been vibrating with how hard your heart was beating. “Now if my favorite whore is loyal, I’ll take care of her in the end. Lick her wounds, buy her Hermes, eat her out. Whatever she wants. But if I find out she told them anything. Where I live, who I talk to on the phone, my favorite football team or even the taste of my spend. I will hurt her more than they ever could. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” You shuddered out, new tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He turned your head to force your gaze on him. “I can be good.”

“I know. You were good. So tonight I’ll take care of you.” He tapped his finger against the tip of your nose. 

He had you hold his cigar as he washed your body, gently pulling  a washcloth along your arms and over your back. Bubbles and smoke clouded your vision till you started to slip around in the water, holding onto thighs and arms for support.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Let’s get you something to eat, yes?” 

He dried you off and put you in the same plush robe as last time before laying you on the bed with a promise he would be back soon. You stared up at the mirror on the ceiling. With the robe undone you could see all the marks across your body. All the places your blood vessels were broken, all the swollen parts of you. You examined yourself, fingers pressing against each spot, testing how much it hurt. You found yourself slowly drifting off. The sheets smelled like him. Musk, oud and tobacco. They weren’t clean like the first time you came over. You grabbed his pillow and pulled it to your face, burying your nose in it. 

Last week he asked if you were afraid of him. You were afraid of all clients in the same way you were afraid of stray dogs. Fear was what you ran on. It kept you that pretty sweet thing that knew when to show her belly in submission. Nikolai was an unknown beast. You now knew there was a fine line separating you and his violence. You could still feel his hold on your neck. You stared at the ceiling and thought about watching yourself get fucked again. Would he ever call for you again? You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear you crying. Pathetically you wanted him to hear. Offer a sliver of comfort by holding you, kissing you, dripping sweet words into your head. 

You missed comfort more than you feared him. Missed feeling cared for. Marcus never bathed you even before he betrayed you. Never carried you to bed. You wanted to scream and cry. Throw a tantrum because you didn’t deserve this. You had much better hopes for yourself at one point. Better plans and dreams. You told Marcus once about how you wanted to travel, that felt like a lifetime ago. 

“You can sleep after you’ve eaten.” He tapped your cheek gently. You’d started to doze off. 

Nikolai had a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. He propped you up on the pillows, setting the pizza out between the two of you. With an arm around your shoulders, he played with a remote till one the paintings across from the bed moved to reveal a television. He flipped through the channels till he found a movie he liked.

“Eat.” He looked at you with disapproval when you reached for the wine first. You folded your slice in half and ate quietly. The hand on your shoulder played with your hair absentmindedly. Every other bite he’d offer you the bottle of wine, no glasses this time, and tilt the bottle to your lips till you drank. 

The pizza gone and the bottle empty, he climbed on top of you, muscular calves straddling your legs. 

“Did he fuck you?” His words echoed around your head, bobbing around like waves. You shook your head weakly.

“No, no one did. I…I…for you.” Words refused to connect in your brain

“Good.” His knuckles grazed your cheek, you leaned into it like a cat. His Kotenok. “I haven’t eaten a good pussy in weeks.”

He moved down your body before hooking your legs over his shoulders. There was an unease in your stomach as his fingers split open your centre. His breath was hot on your clit. Your muscles ached too much to even try and  lift your head but you could feel his eyes on you, just staring, examining you like a specimen. He was spreading your folds open, watching you drip onto the robe. 

He mumbled something in Russian and before you could ask what, his mouth was on you, licking around your entrance. Your thighs clamped down around his head. He was laughing, forcing your legs apart again.

“Pull my hair if you want but don’t stop me,” he growled. 

He ate with a selfishness, caring more about getting as much of you into his mouth as possible rather than giving any pleasure. He kept his mouth and tongue at your entrance with his nose bumping against your clit. You pulled his hair whenever his tongue flicked your clit, a silent plea for him to continue.

“Greedy,” he chuckled. You gasped loudly as he took your clit between his lips and sucked. He had two fingers inside you with his other hand holding both of yours flush against your stomach. Anytime you squirmed too much he’d nip the skin connecting your thigh and core. It was only after cumming that the wine took hold, letting you slip into a more relaxed state. He made you cum once more on his tongue, wiping his mouth on your stomach.

He pulled your arms out of your sleeves and rolled you onto your stomach.

“Don’t tell Arno I fucked you. Want my refund.” He grabbed your hips and lifted them up before shoving a pillow between you and the bed. His cock was pressing against your entrance. 

“Mmhmm.” you agreed, wine and exhaustion pulling your eyes closed. 

“Good girl. Just take it.”

You woke up alone. Your clothes laid out on the arm chair. There was no tea, just two pills and a glass of water on the nightstand. You dressed and took your medicine. Your body was stiff and there was an ache between your legs. 

Some half-remembered feeling of his body on top of yours, the slap of his hips against your ass. 

You wobbled your way downstairs, following the smell of coffee and toast. Nikolai was sitting at the head of the dining table, staring at his laptop with a mug in his hand. He was dressed. A steel grey dress shirt, black suit coat and pants. 

“Sit, eat. We’re leaving in ten minutes.” He motioned towards the seat beside him. He’d made you your own toast, no coffee. 

You ate quickly. The rage you’d seen last night was pumping beneath his skin, flooding his veins. You could see it just from how tightly he gripped his mug. You kept one hand clamped between your thighs to hide the shaking. There was a frayed rope somewhere and you had no idea if it was the one holding you up or not. You couldn’t even begin to untangle it from the rest without risk of it snapping. What did he mean by we?

Where would he take you?

“Don’t fight.” He came up behind you and dropped a black hood over your head. You caught your scream in your throat, forcing it to soften into a pathetic whimper. He guided you out of your chair and down the hall. You walked downstairs, a car door opened and you were helped inside, a step up. 

The seats were leather. You reached forward and felt the dashboard in front of you. He buckled you in. 

“Kotenok?” His mouth was by your ear, lips almost touching the fabric. 

“Yes, sir?” Could he hear how scared you were?

“Were you honest with me about this ex boyfriend of yours?” In your lack of vision you pictured his teeth as knives, waiting to dig into you.

“Yes, sir. All of it. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“Good girl.” The car door slammed shut.

You couldn’t make sense of where he was taking you. You knew it wasn’t the club. He turned left instead of right at the end of the road. You were headed further into the industrial district, filled with no descript warehouses. 

He parked eventually. You listened to him get out and talk to someone outside the car in Russian. Your door opened and he helped you out.

“You just sit and look pretty, okay? Just some business and I’ll send you home.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and held you close as he led you into the building. 

You were sat in a metal fold out chair and again reminded to stay quiet. He stood behind you, hand under the hood as he played with your hair. 

“Nikolai, what the fuck is this?” Arno yelled, a metal door slamming open. You jumped as metal chair legs dragged against the floor across from you, pained moans coming from the darkness. Nik held the back of your neck firmly. 

“Do I look like a woman, Arno?” Nik asked. 

“What?” Arno sounded drunk, he always did but he wasn’t hiding it well this time.

“Do I look like a woman?” There was a calmness in his voice that was betrayed by his rings digging into your throat. 

“No. You don’t.”

“Then why do you try to fuck me? I don’t like to be fucked.”

“I didn’t try to fuck you.”

“No, your friend did and you let him. Dima, take the hood off Arno’s friend.” Footsteps and then gagged yelling. Nik pulled the hood off your head. Marcus sat three metres across, naked, gagged, and handcuffed to a chair. His nose had been broken and there was a cut by his eyebrow. His face was bloodied and bruised, all fresh wounds. Your toes curled in your shoes while goosebumps raced up your arms and back. “Do you think I look like a woman?”

Marcus shook his head violently. The tears forming in his eyes didn’t make you feel as good as you would have thought. The air in the building smelled like piss, mildew and harsh chemicals. It made your stomach churn, toast climbing its way back up. 

“Nikolai. I…I told you I was sorry. I didn’t know he tossed her around before… if I had known.” Arno pleaded.

“You should have never sent me damaged product. Look at her. I don’t want to fuck that!” He pulled your head back till you cried out in pain. “If I wanted her weeping and bloody I would have done it myself.”

“I… I didn’t know.”

“Because you’re a shit business man. Can’t keep track of your drink, can’t keep track of your girls, can’t keep track of this pedik!” He spat at Marcus. “I pay good money to have a pretty girl sent over to suck my cock. I’ve never tried to swindle you so why do you think you can fuck me over like this?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t touch her. Your money is being sent back. Two days at most. I swear.”

“And what about my time? I don’t get many days off. Instead of fucking I had to listen to her cry. Is he going to suck my cock?” He motioned towards Marcus who shook his head again. 

“Next time is on the house…next two times. We appreciate your business Nik.”

“We’re not friends. You don’t call me Nik.”

“Mr. Andreev, we appreciate your business. I don’t…I don’t even fucking like him.” Marcus looked up in fear, cursing through the gag. “You can do whatever you want. Torture, fuck, kill. He’s yours. He’s a cunt.”

“Fine.” Nik’s hand left your neck. There was a click and the barrel of a handgun brushed against your cheek. Marcus started screaming. “Cover your ears, Kotenok.”

You clamped your hands over your ears. You wanted to close your eyes but the way Nik looked down at you knew he wanted you to watch. Nik took three steps and fired.

Marcus screamed as the bullet landed between his legs. There was too much blood to see where the bullet entered but it was gory viscera. You threw up your toast onto the floor between your feet. Nik tutted at you and pushed you back into the chair. You felt a deep shame in your weakness. Arno was cursing. The man you guessed was Dima, looked bored. 

Nik gave Dima a nod and he pulled Marcus’s gag off.

“You fucking cunt! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you.” Marcus screamed. Nik laughed. 

“No, you won’t. You can’t even piss properly anymore.”

Marcus lifted his head to glare at you. You leaned back in your chair, the metal scraping the floor as you tried to inch away. 

“You fucking cunt! You stupid fucking bitch! I should have killed you years ago! You spoiled little whore” His blood was pooling around his feet and his skin grew grey yet he still had time and wherewithal to threaten you. “I hope he fucking kills you. He will! You think you’re safe snitching on me? He’ll do worse than I ever could.”

Nik moved back to stand behind you, resting his free hand on your shoulder. Arno was hissing for Marcus to shut up. Vomit still burnt your tongue. 

“I respected you once! Now you pay for pussy. I don’t pay for pussy! If I want to fuck my girlfriend, I’ll just fuck her. How much do you pay for her? Stupid cunt!”

Nik chuckled. 

“I don’t want your fucking respect, chmo.” Nik put his gun back into the holster on his hip. “Respect from pigs does little when they get hungry. You are a pig. Dima, gag him again.”

He turned towards Arno, who was still standing slack jawed at the scene in front of him.

“Arno? Does your father know you have pigs working for you? Does he know how you run his business?”

“Wh…what?”

“Does he know you’re too high to find your own fucking feet?”

“No..No… he doesn't.” Arno looked at his feet like a little boy. It disgusted you. 

“You want it to stay that way, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Kill him.” Nik nodded towards Marcus. Marcus started yelling through the gag again. 

“I…I…No. I won’t do that. You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want. You do it or I do.” There was a roaring in your ears. Stomach bile was climbing up your throat to join your toast on the floor. Arno was arguing with Nik who was calm as ever. Nik’s hand left your shoulder and you found yourself rising out of your chair and running. Nik clicked his tongue and before you could make it to the door, Dima had his arms around your waist. He was bigger than Nik. Your fists hit against his arms as you screamed and cried. “Have to do everything myself. Hold her in her fucking seat!”

Dima dropped you back in the chair and held you still. Nik had pulled two brass knuckles out of his pockets. He was walking towards you. 

“Please Kolya! Don’t! Please!” Snot and spit mixed together on your face. 

“You were being so good.” He rubbed the metal against your cheek, smirking when you shrinked away. “Now watch me.”

Dima held your head forward as Nik stalked over to Marcus. Arno was sitting on the floor, arms resting on his knees, no light in his eyes. There was no shame in his face, no regret for getting his friend killed, just a child’s disappointment that he’d been caught. 

You gasped as Nik’s fist collided with Marcus' jaw. His gag knocked loose followed by a spray of teeth and blood. Nik used him as a punching bag. You flinched at every crack of bone and scream of pain. He punched and punched till Marcus was coughing up blood and his chin rested on his chest. 

Nik pulled him up by the hair and whispered something with a chuckle. He punched Marcus in the nose and then again and again and again and again and again. His face caved in. Nik punched till there was no face, just a bloody clump of flesh and teeth and bone. To your horror, it moved as Marcus’s last breaths came out. Nik kicked his chair over. 

“Send me a new girl. Red head. Need to fuck something now.” He looked at you and shook his head. You’d thrown up again, it was covering your front. Snot was dried down to your chin. You never looked away. 

Dima let go of you and followed Nik out of the building. 

“Fuuuuuuucccccckkkkkk.” Arno sighed, hands in head. “My dad is going to fucking kill me.”

[kleine-joost]

Literally anything with whimpering joost pls, that man is one that whimpers idgaf what anyone else says, whimpering is hot with two t's

ask and you shall receive (I hope I did it justice for you!!! ❤️)

Joost Klein x Reader 18+ MDNI

You continued to dance as the bass jumped through your bones. You always lived for nights like this. With your past week at work, you needed a night to unwind, and Joost knew it. One of the perks of having a well-connected boyfriend, you could get into practically any club in Amsterdam that you wanted, and you always used that to your benefit. You’d dragged Joost from one club to another all night, it was getting close to last call time and you were trying to make the most of it all.

Joost didn’t mind trailing after you. You were wearing the pair of jeans and the strappy top that you knew made him go crazy. That was part of the fun of the night as well, teasing him for hours upon hours until he couldn’t handle how worked up he was and would drag you home to fuck you until the sun was coming up. 

But that was getting harder and harder for Joost to hold off as you grinded into him on the dancefloor. He had hold of your hips, swaying you both to the music. You were facing away from him, and everytime to shook your head to the beat he got a whiff of your shampoo, it was bordering on torture.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he practically yelled in your ear just so you could hear him.

“I’ll come with you!” You swung around, your face flushed and slightly dewey, grabbing Joost’s hand as he led you both to the large circular bar closer to the entrance of the club.

It was a bit quieter, at least the glasses of half-finished drinks that sat on the bar were only slightly vibrating from the bass that emanated through the building. Joost ordered another beer, and you got a bottle of water. You both didn’t say much as you both just quietly watched the crowd jumping in unison.

You could tell your body would be sore later, and your lack of energy was quickly dawning on you. You rested your head on Joost’s shoulder as he took a sip. 

As if this wasn’t torturous enough already, now his senses were filled with the scent of your perfume and a light sheen of sweat that started at your hairline and slowly went down your neck. He wished he hadn’t worn such tight jeans tonight, he was painfully hard and the pressure wasn’t helping. He tried to slyly adjust himself, hoping for some kind of reprieve.

You noticed him wriggle. He couldn’t hide much from you, you saw how his eyes raked over your body as you were getting ready to leave, and you felt his grip on your hips and waist tighten with every club you went to.

Maybe it was time to give him what he’d been wanting so badly. You grabbed his hand tightly, looking up at him with lidded eyes and leaning close to his ear.

“Come with me,” you whispered, beginning to walk to the small hallway you knew led to the bathrooms.

It was surprisingly empty. Even better. You slid into the men’s bathroom, quickly dragging Joost into a stall with you.

As soon as you latched the lock shut his mouth was on yours, and he was pushing your bodies against the stall door.

You let his tongue explore over your lips, your teeth, and your own tongue. He tasted like the strawberry gum he always loved to chew. You let your hands wander over his back, and gripped his shoulders, nails digging in just the way he liked.

You parted your mouth from his to place wet kisses down his neck, biting just a little.

“I need you,” he gasped. “Please.”

“Impatient…” you tutted.

But you couldn’t see your boy so desperate, so you indulged him. You reached a hand down to palm him through his jeans while you lightly sucked that sweet spot near his collarbone. He let out a tiny whimper, but enough to spur you on.

You quickly unbuckled his belt, fumbling with the large, ornate buckle he’d worn that night, and reached into his boxers, just to give him enough skin-on-skin contact.

“What do you want, baby?” You asked him, slowly running your nails over his length.

“Uh, uh,” he stuttered for a moment. “Your mouth, I want your mouth.”

A grin spread across your lips. You would honestly do anything for this man when he got like this, seeing him so desperate made you want to make him happy in any way you possibly could.

You kneeled on the sticky floor without delay, pulling Joost’s jeans and boxers down just a bit to let his cock spring free. You were salivating at the sight of him. After only a few small licks to his glistening, pink tip, he was gasping for air. You jumped into gear, lightly sucking on him and running one hand over the rest of him.

The room was quickly filled with his moans. Not the normal, guttural moans like when he was fucking you, these were higher pitched, more of a whine. He was itching for a release.

You flattened your tongue and pushed him deeper in your mouth. You were just staving your gag reflex back, as he grabbed the back of your head to encourage you. Joost took hold of your hair once you’d gotten into a good rhythm as he was hurtling closer and closer to the finish line.

With one final swirl of your tongue, he was finishing in your mouth. You waited as he rode out the high, letting out some final strangled gasps as you looked up at him, taking him out of your mouth and swallowing.

He grabbed your hand to help you stand up as he tucked himself back into his jeans. You noticed his cheeks had the slightest tinge of pink washed over them, it made you smile. Just when you were about to unlock the stall to leave he pulled your arm back, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Let’s go home,” you told him, sweetly.

[recklesssturniolo]

Still Hate Me? - C.S

Chris version of hotel , enemies x lovers, dom!Chris , shortish (don’t hate me I’m sorry)

NSFW, leave if you’re a minor

My head snaps up as I hear the hotel room door open and slam shut, my eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Chris.

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” I growl.

“Your room? This is my room” He responds.

“No it’s actually not Nick texted me that this room is mine” I reply, shoving my phone in his face with Nick’s message displayed.

“Fuck me. Great looks like they put us in a room together” He says, rolling his eyes.

“No shot, this has to be a joke” I say, immediately texting Nick.

It’s silent as I impatiently wait for a text back from Nick, glaring at my phone once I see his response simply say “Sorry😚”

“What’d he say” Chris asks.

“Sorry with a kiss emoji. This is my living hell” I mumble.

Chris sighs before stating he was having a shower before bed. I take his absence as time to change into my pjs, getting comfortable underneath the blankets before he returns. Glancing up, my eyes widen slightly as I see him with just a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets dripping onto his chest from his hair. I quickly look back down to my phone, not wanting him to catch me staring, but frustratingly noticing how attractive he looked.

He walks back into the bathroom and I shut my phone off and roll onto my side. Feeling the bed dip as he laid down.

“Stay as far away from me as possible” I say.

“Don’t have to tell me twice” He responds.

I close my eyes, but can’t help but picture how good Chris looked when he got out of the shower. Fuck sakes why was I still thinking about that?

Unaware of the time, I’m awoken by the noise of quiet moans and a grinding against my ass. Looking over my shoulder I see it’s Chris, seemingly asleep. I had to be dreaming there was no possible way Chris was having a wet dream and using me to get off.

“Chris!” I almost yell, shaking him.

“Jesus Christ what is your problem” He replies, his eyes half open.

“You’re literally grinding your dick against me and moaning” I tell him.

“I - what? You’re lying” He says.

“I’m positive you could just feel how hard your dick is and know I’m being serious” I respond.

“I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize I was doing any of that” He mumbled, his voice quiet.

There wasn’t much use denying it turned me on, but my mind couldn’t figure out whether to act on it or not.

“Mm it’s fine. I kinda liked it” I replied, trying my best to act as if that was a normal statement.

“What?” He questioned.

I turn over, now facing him, only slightly able to see the outline of his face, “Said I liked it”

He places his hand on my cheek, his thumb toying with my bottom lip, “Yeah?”

I nod in response, noticing a smirk grow on his face before his lips smash against mine. Our tongues clashing against each others as I feel his hand slip underneath my shorts.

“Can I?” He asks through the kiss.

“Please” I mumble back.

His hand, almost torturously slow makes it way down to my heat. I whimper leaving my mouth as his thumb makes contact with my clit and he begins moving slow circles over it.

Moving his hand lower, I feel him smirk before mumbling, “By how wet you are you really must’ve liked that”

“Chris” I whine.

“What is it? Use your words” He says.

“More, I need more” I respond.

“Yeah? Sit on my face then” He tells me.

“What - are you serious?” I ask.

“Dead serious, get to it” He replies.

Not wasting anytime, I slip off my shorts and panties and allow him to position himself before I move so my pussy is above his lips.

“Don’t by shy, sit” He demands.

I lower myself onto his face, a gasp leaving my mouth as he licks up my pussy. His hand tightly gripping my ass as he sucked on my clit.

“I - fuck Chris feels so good” I moan.

“Tastes so fucking good” He mumbles back.

I whimper as his begins flicking his tongue against my clit, my hands gripping tighter onto the headboard as he did so. He flattens his tongue against me, tasting as much of me as he could.

“I need you” I whine.

He pulls away, “Need me to fuck you? Desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yes Chris please” I whimper.

Without another word he flips me over and pulls my ass up towards him. I hear the sound of him shuffling around before his tip makes contact with my pussy. He teases me by sliding his dick up and down against my core.

“Stop teasing fuck” I moan out.

“You gonna be a good girl and take all of it?” He asks.

“My god yes just fuck me already” I respond.

With that, he slams himself into me, a loud moan leaving my lips. The pain of my pussy stretching to fit him mixed with the pleasure sucking the air out of my lungs.

“I - god you’re so big” I moan.

“Taking me well so well pretty girl” He groans.

He holds nothing back, his grip tightening on my waist as he slams into me. The groans falling from him mouth only making it better. Without warning he pulls out, an immediate gasp comes from me as he did.

“Chris what the fuck” I question.

“Ride me. I wanna see your tits bounce as you bounce on my dick” He says, once again flipping me over.

I begin positioning myself over him before he stops me.

“Shirt off” He demands.

I nod and do as he says, my need for him causing me to complete forget to remove my top.

“Good girl” He says once my tops off, his hands moving to play with my nipples causing my head to tilt back.

I align myself with his dick and lower myself onto him. A moan leaving my mouth as I fully say.

“So tight holy fuck” Chris groan, his hips thrusting upwards.

I begin bouncing myself on him, the slight ache in my legs being nothing compared to the euphoria spreading through my body. Chris’ hips thrust up to meet mine, syncing himself with my movements.

“I’m - fuck I’m gonna come” He groans, “Look so fucking good on top of me”

I say nothing but in response pick up my pace, my own climax growing within me, practically begging to be released.

“On 3 okay?” I moan.

“Fuck okay” Chris growls, his grip once against tight on my waist, his eyes not leaving my body for even a second.

Counting to three, I moan out as I come, my legs now shaking and my nails slightly scratching his torso. I watch as Chris throws his head back, his eyes clenching shut as he continuing matching my movements with his thrusts, soon coming to a slow, eventually stopping.

Both of our highs finishing, before I get off of him, he pulls me close and connects our lips again briefly before pulling away.

I lift myself off of him, a quiet whine falling from my lips as I did. Laying myself down beside him.

“I can’t believe that just fucking happened” I say.

“Don’t even try denying that you loved it” He responds.

“Wasn’t gonna, that felt beyond good” I reply.

“Still hate me?”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt @sturniolosreads @bernardenjoyer

[aseaofyoongi]

just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

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A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

-

-

-

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Introduction/Part One

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, (future) Bjorn

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Word Count: 2445

Warnings: time travel being possible, bullying, getting chased by some very confused vikings, imprisonment

Masterlist Here

"Cmon Jason. Give it a rest," you heard one of his friends tell him, but you were already crossing the bridge to get away from them.

You'd came to the park after school to relax after yet another hellish day of studying. You were a history student, obsessed with the Vikings, and sadly for some reason Jason's enemy number one. Apparently, the frat boy still held a grudge for the time you rejected him last year and decided to make your life a misery.

As you were halfway across the bridge you heard laughing then footsteps and just as you went to turn you felt him grab your bag off your shoulder. Well, he tried. You grabbed it back, yelling "help!" As his other friend tried to help him pull it away. 

You glanced behind you to see if anyone was near but no. You were alone of the bridge 6 feet at least above the deep lake. "Dude!" You heard the friend again as your head whipped back around.

"fine!" Jason yelled as he let go of the bag just as you had attempted to tug it from him. "Wait no!" You heard his voice before you felt the wood dig into your back and then heard a sickening snap.

You screamed as you felt the wind rush past your face, hair whipping around as your body hurtled headfirst towards the water. You felt your head sink in and the water ring in your ears like church bells as your eyes screwed up tight.

You waited for your head to crash against the rocks but instead felt your legs hit the soft ground, your butt and shoulders soon following. Your head hit the ground gently as a groan left your lips. As your eyes opened you realised not only did you feel no water or soggy clothing but that a scattered sunlight was washing over your face. 

"What the-" you muttered as you sat up. Your guitar bag was still clutched in one hand, your backpack hooked around your elbow, and now your earphones had been tossed behind you during the fall. That however did not concern you as much as the overwhelming greenery.

The Forrest around you had winding trees up to the sky with whispers of squirrels and rabbits in the background. You pulled yourself to your feet as your eyes scanned the woods. "Where am I?" You muttered as you grabbed your headphones and shoved them in your bag. 

You checked your phone however there was not only no signal but now the time had become dashes alongside the battery percentage. The Wi-Fi and Bluetooth signals were now just colourful blobs and even when you tried opening the emergency number call it refused to let you punch in the digits. You sighed and turned it off, hoping that by the time you found your way out the Forrest it would have rebooted so you could call your parents or maybe even a hospital since you'd obviously hit your head very hard.

You put the phone in your bag and zipped it up, even using the number lock your mother insisted you put on it to keep your bag safe. You weren't sure which way to go. After all no matter where you walked you could either be going closer or further to whatever destination would be the safest.

Fuck it. You thought. There's only one way to find out. You walked through the forest, not even trying to not step on twigs or ruffle leaves since you were probably just far deeper into the campus woods than you'd ever been before. However, then you heard voices.

Well laughter really. At least three men. Your footsteps slowed encase Jason and his friends had somehow made you lose your mind and we're torturing you but no. Instead, you held back a gasp as you peaked through the leaves to see four men with their backs to you.

One was sat on a log playing with what looked like a dagger while another two practised throwing axes. Fuck. All three were dressed as if they were Vikings. Perhaps you'd been studying them too much and had officially lost your marbles.

Or perhaps the other Viking nerds in your school had formed a club. As you debated taking a step forward one of the men missed his throw causing another to yell out a jab. As the man span round to answer his eyes stopped when he saw you. His hand shot out to nudge the man next to him who turned around.

He was a brunette man with a long braid down how back "I'm Ubbe," the boy called as he stepped forward, "Who are you? Why are you here?" He called however your eyes wandered down then widened as you saw him gripping his axe.

"Tell us!" The boy who had missed called, stepping closer. Your eyes wandered to the third who was reaching for something in his belt when you finally made up your mind.

Run. You turned, sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you. Your feet hammered against the dirt as their shouts echoed through the forest. You didn't dare glance back or stop for the branches whipping against your face. There was finally a break in the trees. Freedom. Safety you thought.

As you ran you arrived at the top of a hill. You turned to look down, expecting to see your campus when dread filled your blood. No this wasn't real. A village of Vikings now looked up at where you stood on the hill.

You stood for a moment panting as you overlooked it all. That was until you heard them again. "Stop right there!" Ubbe all but screamed. 

You ran again. To your left was a high cliff facing a grey blue ocean and to your right was 3 very angry looking Vikings. You decided to take your chances with the clueless as you barrelled down the hill into what looked to be like a market.

Despite being the least terrifying person here they all jumped out your way, gasping and screaming as you ran all while Ubbe and the others chased you. 

You were running towards a bridge by a stream and decided for one last second to glance behind you. They were just running around the corner when you felt a hand grab your foot as the other got swept up in the air.

It was as if your body took flight as you fell to the ground with a large thump. You groaned as you tried to pick yourself up just for a large hand to grab your shoulder and flip you on your back. 

As you stared at his electric blue eyes your own eyes widened. "Ivar?" You whispered and his eyes widened so much you wondered if it hurt however just as he went to speak Ubbe pulled him off him.

Ubbe. Your brain clicked. There's no possible way. It couldn't be. Surely not. Ubbes hand pulling you to your feet. "I asked you a question," he growled as you gasped for air. As much as you wanted to be tough and brave and all the other things these Vikings were being faced to face to Ubbe was too much as the spots began to cloud your vision and you felt your body fall limp as the world faded to black.

-

As you began to stir you half expected to open your eyes and see your dorm room, but the hard stick pressed against your spine made you doubtful. Your eyes opened to find yourself in a wooden cage in the corner of what looked like a bedroom. It was dark and suddenly felt very small as your hands grabbed the bars as you began to shake them.

“Fuck,” you grunted as you hit your hand against the frame but instead of it budging now your hand just hurt. Before you could try for any longer you froze when you saw the door slowly push open.

“I see what you mean,” a woman’s voice muttered as she approached your cage. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her or the men behind her, “What is she wearing?” she whispered.

“We don’t know,”

“We found her like this,”

“Do you think she’s a witch?” you felt your blood run cold at the man’s word.

The woman stood up and turned to what you soon realised were her sons. In fact, now you realised who they all were. It was Sigurd who’d claimed you may be a witch but how could he possibly be real? He was a tv character after all.

“Perhaps but we cannot know for sure yet,” Aslaug whispered to her son, “Can you speak child?” she called out to you as if she was shouting on a dog. Your head raised so you could get a better look, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“What are we going to do?” Ubbe asked. As the four spoke amongst themselves you realised one was missing. Ivar was nowhere to be seen.

“Your father should be home any day now. We will wait for him,” Aslaug finally determined, “I have never seen someone like this. I do not wish to find out what harm she can cause alone,” with that the four turned to leave, shutting the door and leaving you in the stale dark once more.

You sighed as you leaned back against the cage however as your eyes scanned the room you noticed your bags sitting in the corner making your head instantly perk up. You knew you didn’t have anything sharp in it but as your stomach rumbled you realised what you did need. Food.

As you began to wonder how you would get to your things you heard the door crack open. You looked up as Ivar dragged himself into the room, constantly checking over his shoulder before he shut the door and brought himself over to your cage. His eyes scanned your frame as you brought your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly.

“Who are you?” he murmured, his eyes landing on your face, “and how do you know my name?” the silence that followed was only broken by the loud rumble of your stomach once more as you winced. “You’re hungry?” he asked.

Finally, you nodded, and a smile quirked onto his lips, “So you do understand?” you nodded again, “If you tell me who you are I’ll bring you something to eat,”

You paused as you decided if it was worth breaking the façade, you’d created but as your stomach churned you realised starving to death before Ragnar returned was not worth it. you whispered your name, but your voice was hoarse from lack of use.

Ivars’s head tilted slightly as his eyebrows knitted, “What a usual name,” he mused.

You bit back a laugh. “Coming from Ivar the boneless,” you muttered.

His eyes widened, a look of what you couldn’t tell if shock or rage or both washed over his face. “What did you call me?” he half yelled, grabbing onto the bars of the cage you were suddenly thankful for.

“It’s what everyone calls you!” you rushed out, pushing yourself as far away as possible, “In the textbooks that’s what legend says you were called I’m sorry,”

He paused, his hands slipping from the bar as the confused look returned, “What is a textbook?”

“Like a history book,” you said but that did little to explain it to him, “It’s like- “you paused trying to think what the closest thing to a Viking textbook was, “It’s like how you pass down stories in songs! We write them down in textbooks, so nobody forgets,”

Ivar paused for a moment as he finally relaxed again, “Where did you come from?” he asked, “And how do they know who I am? What have you told them?”

“I haven’t told them anything, my teachers they taught it to me,” you said, finally allowing yourself to sit at ease again, “I’m from the future,” the words felt foreign in your mouth as Ivar’s blue eyes widened.

“Prove it,”

“You’re Ivar the boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok,” you spoke but your voice was shaky as you tried to remember all you could, “Brother of Bjorn Ironside who explored the Mediterranean sea. Son of Aslaug. You go on to command the great heathen army,” you said and as you spoke Ivar looked like a child being read a bedtime story about pirates and mermaids, “You Ivar are a legend where I am from,” perhaps bending the truth a little but what would he know.

“And who- “

You cut him off this time when you felt your stomach lurch, “You said you would feed me. I won’t tell you anything else till you live up to your word,” you tried to sound firm, but it clearly wasn’t your style.

Still though Ivar nodded as he slowly began to drag himself away, “I shall return,” he said as he opened the door, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Don’t go anywhere,” he teased before shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes as you sunk back into the wood behind you. “Oh god he really is nuts,” you whispered. Then again perhaps it was you that was nuts. After all you had just been talking to a Viking who’d died thousands of years ago.

Part two

General Taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate

Vikings Taglist: @bellroclucky03 @ringpopdust @hypocritic-trash-baby @tessakate

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.7

Chapter Summary: Joel needs to know where you were taken, so he goes to the only people who would have the answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, graphic depictions of violence, torture, blood

WC: 5.3K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Joel!" Ellie yelled, shaking his shoulder, pulling him out of a deep sleep.

"What?" he asked, irritated as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked around, realizing the sun was up and you never woke him.

"Goddamnit," he muttered, standing and grabbing his gear. "Why didn't she wake me?"

"She's gone!" Ellie said, sounding a little breathless.

Joel felt his legs go weak and the blood rush to his head as Ellie's words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What?"

"She's gone," Ellie repeated. "Her shit's still here, though, so it's not like she left us. But I can't find her anywhere."

"W-where - what d'you mean she's... oh, shit," Joel stammered. He fell back onto the bed as his vision went narrow and his chest tightened under his palm. He felt like he could barely drag in a breath, fighting like hell to keep from passing out. He let his head hang between his knees as he struggled to breathe while the pain in his chest intensified.

"Joel?" Ellie said, her voice sounding miles away even though she was kneeling down right next to him. "Joel! What's going on?!"

"It's fine," he gasped, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain, but it was no use.

"You're not fucking fine! Are you having a heart attack? What do I do?!"

"I'm not-" Joel cut himself off and took in a ragged breath. "I'm not havin' a heart attack."

Jesus Christ, how could he let this happen?

"I'll get you some water," Ellie said, standing up to dig through his pack for his canteen. She held it out to him and he took it weakly, his hand shaking as he brought it to his lips.

"You sure she isn't patrolin' the building?" His voice was raspy as his vision began to widen again. Please, just walk through the door.

"Pretty sure. Her gun was on the ground downstairs," Ellie said, turning around to pick up the pistol from her bed to show him. He felt himself begin to spiral again and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to be focused. He needed to get you back. He needed you to be safe.

"Put that down," he told her, rubbing his eyes.

"It's just the two of us, what if the people who took her come back?" Ellie protested, and Joel dropped his hand to glare at her.

"How d'you know she was taken?" he demanded, even though he already came to the same conclusion himself, he just wasn't ready to admit it.

"What else could it have been?" she shrugged. "Her gun's here, her pack's here, the truck is still here. And she's nowhere to be found. She wouldn't just leave us, right?"

Joel stared at Ellie for a moment, his brows furrowed as he tried to decide how much he should share with a teenager.

He just grunted in response, sitting back and taking a deep breath in while rubbing his chest, doing his best to hide the intense fear that was coursing through his veins. "I'll look around, see if there's any tracks or somethin' that might lead us in the right direction." He stood on shaky legs to scoop up his rifle.

"I'll come with you, watch your back," she said, leaning down to grab her pack.

"No you won't, you'll stay right here," Joel scolded as he headed to the door, still feeling a little lightheaded but the panic attack was subsiding.

Ellie rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack in a huff, watching as Joel made his way down the stairs towards the front door of the fire hall.

Once Joel was safely out of sight, behind a few trees where he knew Ellie couldn't see him, he fell forward and allowed himself to just be weak. First, by gripping his knees and breathing deeply, then by falling to the ground on his hands and knees, letting his head rest against the dirt as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill down his face.

How could he fuck this up so badly? How could he let this happen? He was supposed to protect you, and the first chance someone got, they took you. No wonder you didn't want to marry him or start a family. How could he possibly keep you or anybody else safe? He just failed time and time again.

Someone must have followed them and he didn't notice. He was too tired and old to recognize when he was being tailed. And it might have cost you your life.

In his craze, he had half a mind to just leave Ellie. His first instinct was to take off, knowing she would just slow him down. But you had a soft spot for the kid, and you so desperately wanted to help her. It was clear as day that you cared for her. He couldn't abandon Ellie after you risked it all to find her family. He wouldn't do that to you. Especially if it was your last wish.

"Stop thinkin' like that," he muttered to himself. With a groan, he pushed off the ground and made himself stand up. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do this. He just had to focus. He could find you. He would find you, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He opened his eyes and looked around. What could he see? What could lead him to you? He walked the perimeter of the building, looking for any sign - a scrap of clothing, a drop of blood, anything that would draw him in the right direction, but there was nothing.

Next, he examined the truck. Why wouldn't they take the truck? He looked at the ground, hoping to find some tire tracks, but the dry fucking desert left nothing for him to trace. They must have had their own vehicle.

Frustrated, he stormed back inside, his fingers raking through his hair as he stomped up the steps.

"Find anything?" Ellie asked, jumping up from the bed. He could tell she was worried, and if he was in a better frame of mind, he might have cared. But all he could think about was you, and what was happening to you at that very moment while he wasted all this time.

"No," he said, his voice gruff as he paced the room and tried to plot his next move. Ellie watched him for a few minutes, not wanting to anger him further but trying to find the right balance and help.

"Who could've taken her? And why not all of us? Why just her?" Ellie wondered out loud.

Joel paused, her words unlocking something.

"Your uncle," Joel started, turning on her. "He told me somethin' when we were there. Said there's slavers that'll pay good money for her. Tried to convince me to -" Joel fell back on the mattress behind him, his head spinning.

"Wait, what?" Ellie asked, standing up now. "How would he know that?"

"Uh," Joel stammered, his mind going a mile a minute. He probably shouldn't have said that to her, he was just thinking out loud. If you were here, you would have known what to do.

"Did he sell me?!" Ellie's face was ghostly white as she connected the dots.

"I don't know," Joel told her, trying to focus on the main issue. He couldn't deal with this right now, he had to find you.

"He did, didn't he?" Ellie continued, tears welling up in her eyes. "That's how they got past his cameras. That's why I don't remember."

Joel sighed and looked up at her. He didn't have much of a choice.

"Yeah, probably," he finally admitted. "It's why we wanted to get you outta there. Somethin' felt off."

"Motherfuckers," Ellie muttered, and Joel raised his eyebrows.

"We gotta go back," Joel told her, standing up quickly. "Get your stuff. That asshole knows who did this."

Ellie helped direct him back to her uncle's house once a few hours passed and he got closer to the city. He stopped the truck a mile away from the house, parking in an abandoned lot, hiding among other cars, just in case.

"We'll wait til sundown," Joel said as he turned off the engine. It was only a couple hours, but each passing minute he spent not tracking you down made his stomach twist tighter and tighter.

"Then what?"

"Then, I sneak back in there, take 'em by surprise and get the information outta him," Joel replied, staring out the window, looking for any movement.

"How are you gonna get by the cameras?" Ellie asked him. He shrugged.

"Don't know. Guess I try to time it before be sets up the motion alerts. It's a gamble but it's all I got."

"You should go after dinner," she said. He turned to finally look at her, waiting for her to explain. "They like to drink after dinner."

He nodded, dropping his gaze and watching as her hands nervously fidgeted in her lap.

"I know this is your family and all-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Do what you gotta do. They aren't my family anymore," she said, blinking away the tears and looking out her window.

"Right," he said. "Reckon they aren't."

They sat a few minutes in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry all this happened," he said quietly. "Ain't none of it your fault."

Ellie turned to him and tried to keep the surprise from her face.

"Thanks," was all she said, and he gave her a firm nod before reaching behind him to grab his rifle. He checked it was fully loaded before moving on to his revolver, doing the same checks. Once he was satisfied, he rummaged around in his pack for his hunter's knife, then looped it through his belt so it sat on his back hip. Ellie watched him carefully before taking a deep breath and asking him the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.

"What are you gonna do to them?"

He paused, then straightened up and cleared his throat.

"Whatever I have to," he said lowly, and Ellie felt a shiver travel down her spine. She didn't ask any more questions after that.

As the sun began to set, Joel took a deep breath and double checked his gear before turning to Ellie.

"Alright. I'm gonna leave the keys with you, just in case..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Ellie's brow furrowed.

"No way, dude. I'm coming with you."

"No, you ain't," he told her. "I can't be lookin' out for a kid while I'm in there."

"You won't have to look out for me, I'll have your back!" Ellie protested angrily.

"What the hell d'you think you're gonna do?" he replied, wondering why he was wasting time arguing with a teenager.

"I don't know! But it's better than sitting in this stupid car waiting for you to get back. It's not very safe, you know. Leaving a kid all alone out here," she told him, trying everything she could think of to change his mind. He clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. He didn't have time for this, he just needed to get the information and get the hell out of here.

"Fine. But you better stick by me, and listen to what I tell you," he seethed, then pushed the door open and hopped out, adjusting his pack over his shoulders as he headed in the direction of the house.

Joel couldn't believe he was having the same argument with Ellie that he has with you. Fuck, he hoped you were okay. If Ellie made it out alive with the same people, you should be able to, right? He couldn't ignore the pit in his stomach when he regrettably let his mind wander to what they would want from you. As far as he knew, Ellie was just used for manual labor. But history as proven there's something else men in particular want from you.

Once they got within earshot of the house, Joel held his arm out silently to stop Ellie. He turned his head to her and pressed a finger up against his lips, telling her to be quiet. She nodded, her breath quickening as her nerves began to set in, then followed close on Joel's tail as they made their way up to the house. He ducked under the window and flattened himself up against the siding, his eyes darting up to look at the cameras angled on the corners of the roof before slowly rising and peering over the windowsill.

The curtains were closed, but he was able to see in just a crack. The living room lights were on but he didn't see any movement inside. Just when he was about to give up and try a different angle, he heard June's muffled voice. He froze, watching as she waddled into the living room from the kitchen with a glass in her hand, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. She didn't appear to be alarmed, so Joel took that to mean they managed to sneak by the cameras undetected.

He reached to his side and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his revolver, slowly pulling it out of his holster and holding it up in front of him. He continued to watch as Dave ambled into the living room, holding a short glass with brown liquid in it. He set the glass down and bent over to tend to the fire.

Joel ducked back down and quickly made his way around the house to the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen. Ellie followed hot on his heels, her switchblade clutched tightly in her fist. He peered around the corner, making sure nobody came back into the kitchen before he tugged on the door. Locked. He put his revolver back in the holster and took out his knife, working over the lock with ease and slowly sliding the glass door open. Once Ellie was inside, he switched his knife for his gun. He flattened his hand and pushed it down, silently telling her to stay right here. She nodded, squatting down behind one of the kitchen chairs so she was out of sight.

He flattened himself against the wall next to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room, listening to June and Dave talk about the meal they had just eaten, like they hadn't just sold a human being into slavery yet again. Based on the volume of her voice, he realized that June was heading back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and widened his stance, the gun in his palm gripped tight as he waited for his moment.

"Did you want any cookies?" June asked over her shoulder. "Just made 'em today, they're-"

She let out a strangled cry as Joel hooked his arm tightly around her throat, spinning her around and pulling her back flush against his chest, his revolver pressing into her temple.

"Junebug?" Dave called, setting down his glass and pushing himself up from the sofa. Joel pushed her forward, the both of them stepping out into the living room, Joel using her body as a shield. Dave froze and Joel watched as all the blood drained from his face.

"What, weren't expectin' me?" Joel growled, and June whimpered against him.

"Wha-" Dave started, then swallowed audibly before trying again. "What'dya want?"

"I want you to tell me who the fuck you called, and where their camp is," Joel said through clenched teeth.

"I didn't call no one," Dave said, his eyes flitting around the room, trying to locate a weapon.

"Don't even think 'bout it," Joel warned, and Dave chuckled.

"C'mon, you ain't gonna hurt a woman," he said. Before Dave could blink, Joel pointed his revolver down to the ground and shot June right through the foot. She howled, her body instinctively bending forward to grab her wound, but Joel tugged her back.

"Better start talkin', or I won't be so nice next time."

"Okay, okay! Jesus!" Dave yelled, holding his hands up in the air and waving them, trying to calm Joel down. "Let her go, then I'll talk."

"Don't think so," Joel said.

"Listen, tie us up or somethin', just let her go," Dave pleaded.

"Funny hearin' you beg for your woman's life when you just sold mine to the highest bidder. Why should I be so generous?"

Dave was beginning to panic, his breaths were coming fast and his hands were shaking.

"You're right, I'm sorry, you're right. Just- please. Please. I'll tell ya whatever you wanna hear, just let her go."

Joel didn't have time for this. He didn't want to waste another minute arguing with this asshole when he could be heading to wherever you were. So, he agreed.

"Fine. I'll let her go, but I'm tyin' you both up," he said, turning back towards the kitchen and dragging June with him. He opened up a few drawers, leaving them rummaged through and open until he found a junk drawer with a pack of zip ties. He snatched them up and pushed June back into the living room. Tossing the pack on the floor, he nodded at Dave.

"Go ahead. Tie yourself up, then I'll do her," Joel said.

"Now, wait a minute. I ain't gonna tie myself first and have you go back on your word."

"Of the fucking two of us, I ain't the one who's lied, and you ain't the one to be makin' any goddamn demands!" Joel roared, his chest heaving. Dave cowered, raising his hands higher above his head and nodded.

"Alright, alright," he said shakily, then slowly leaned forward to pick up the zip ties. He opened the pack and was about to wrap up his wrists, but Joel stopped him.

"Ankles, too," he said. Dave looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it.

After tying his ankles and his hands at his waist, he limply tossed the pack of ties across the floor towards Joel.

"Sit down," he told June through gritted teeth, pushing her down into the armchair. She plopped down into the chair with a whimper, then quickly leaned down to clutch her foot.

Joel let his guard down for a minute. Just one minute to pick up the zip ties and it was all June needed. She brought her good leg down on the back of his head, knocking him down to the ground and sending his gun skittering across the room. His head bounced off the floor, making him see stars for a moment before he scrambled to try to stand back up, but she brought her leg down across his back with enough force to knock him down again.

"You son of a bitch!" she screeched at him. She tried to stand and grab his gun, but she stumbled, the bullet wound in her foot making her unable to walk.

"Get the gun, Junebug!" Dave yelled from his spot on the sofa. "Get the gun and shoot him in the goddamn head!"

Joel rolled onto his back to create distance from her so he could finally stand up. When he did, he realized the room had gone deathly silent. He swiveled his head around, trying to figure out why they stopped screaming, and then he saw Ellie. She was standing in the doorway with his rifle trained on June's head, her eyes hard and her hands still.

"Ellie," June whispered. She inched forward on the ground towards her, but Ellie just cocked the rifle. June froze.

"Ellie, you shoot that fucker right between the eyes," Dave ordered from the couch. When it became apparent that Ellie was not on their side, Joel bent down to pick up his revolver with a grunt. Dave nervously glanced back and forth between her and Joel.

"Ellie-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Did you sell me to them, too?" Her voice was unwavering, her gaze like daggers.

"'Course not," June said, interrupting them.

"Really? Then how'd he know who to call? How'd they get past your cameras?"

"How did you get past 'em?" June shrieked. "It ain't impossible!"

"June, just give it up," Dave said from behind her, his shoulders sagging.

The room was silent. Joel looked over at Ellie, then back at Dave.

"Gimme the gun, kiddo," Joel said gently, taking a step toward her with his hand out.

"I wanna hear him say it," she said, her grip tightening on the stock.

"Fine, we sold ya, that what you wanna hear? Paid for half the shit in that basement, too, and look at you - you're fuckin' fine!" Dave shouted, spit spraying from his lips. Ellie's brows furrowed and her eyes lit up in rage.

"What? You gonna kill me?" Dave asked with a laugh.

"She won't," Joel said, stepping in front of the rifle, blocking Ellie's shot. "But I will."

Dave's smile faltered as he looked up at Joel.

"Ellie?" Joel said over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to Dave.

"Yeah?"

"You got headphones?"

"Yeah."

"Go upstairs, put 'em on," Joel said, holding his arm out to his side. She paused for a moment before dropping the gun from her shoulder and handing him the rifle, then turned to head up the stairs.

"Wait! Ellie!" June sobbed, tears streaming down her face. But Ellie kept walking. "I'm sorry!" June added, hoping she would garner some sympathy.

"No, you ain't," Joel muttered, leaning the gun against the wall before turning back to her. "But you're gonna be."

An hour. He wasted a whole fucking hour with these assholes, playing their stupid games and listening to their pathetic pleas until his eye caught the time on the wall and his anger flared. He needed to get on the road. He needed to find you. He wouldn't be able to sleep or eat until he did.

He had them both tied up, sitting on the floor with their backs to each other. Dave was partially right. Joel didn't like the idea of hurting a woman. So he went relatively easy on her. However, after that hour was up, she was still bruised and bloodied, but it was nothing compared to Dave.

Dave was barely holding on to consciousness and unfortunately was trying to feed Joel false information on where you were taken. He caught him in a lie twice already, and his anger got the best of him both times. With a sigh, he stood up and flexed his bloodied hand.

"You still with me?" Joel asked, leaning over Dave's body. He heard a grunt in response.

"Can't do much more to you, you'll pass out. So I'm sorry to have to do it," Joel walked around in a circle slowly, stopping when he found himself in front of June. "But I'll have to start takin' her fingers."

June began sobbing again and behind her, Dave groaned. Joel took the bloodied knife he had set on the coffee table and held out his arm.

"Gimme your hand," he told June calmly, and her sobbing turned into hysterics, her tied hands pressed firmly into her lap.

"Gimme your fuckin' hand, or tell me where they took her!" he roared, making her jump.

"I'll tell you!" she said, tears and snot streaming down her face. Joel felt a bit of relief, then leaned back to grab the map from his back pocket.

"Point to it. And it better be the same spot he points to," he said darkly. She nodded and lifted her hands shakily after squinting at the map.

"There," she said. He peered down, noting she pointed to a hospital in Salt Lake City, and his blood ran cold. He wasn't certain, but it appeared to be the same hospital he and Tommy were supposed to take Ellie. He stood up and walked back around to Dave, who was glaring up at him through one eye, the other was swollen shut.

"They'll kill us," Dave said weakly when Joel held out the map.

"Shoulda thought 'bout that before doin' business with a bunch of slavers," Joel told him bitterly.

"I ain't tellin' you shit," Dave said, squaring his shoulders. June began whimpering behind him.

"That's okay," Joel said, dropping the map on the coffee table. "I believe her."

He rammed the hunting knife through Dave's chest with a grunt. The man let out a small squeal before his head fell forward limply. June screamed and tried to scoot away on the floor, but Joel grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back.

"Shut up, or you're next," he snarled, and her screams immediately stopped.

"It's no use," she sobbed, leaning forward and gasping for air. "You won't get her back. It's been too long, they move 'em around so fast-"

Joel had enough. He took the butt of his rifle and hit her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

She may think he wouldn't get you back, but she had no idea what he's capable of.

The drive back north was quiet. Ellie saw the blood on Joel's hands and clothes. Even though he did his best to clean up before bringing her downstairs, she still pieced it together. He had hid Dave's body in the basement with the camera equipment, then dragged June down there, still unconscious, and tied her loosely to a workbench. She could eventually figure out how to get out of the restraints. It was just to ensure he had enough time to put distance between them. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to kill her. But at the last minute, he did decide to grab one of those AK-47s Dave was bragging about two days ago.

Ellie didn't ask questions. She stared silently out the window, lost in thought about her own flesh and blood betraying her. Then she glanced at Joel, realizing this man who couldn't stand the sight of her just a week ago did more for her than her own family.

"Thank you," she finally said, breaking the silence. He blinked and turned his head briefly to look at her.

"You're welcome," he said gruffly. "You didn't, uh, see or hear anythin', did'ya?"

"No," she said, and Joel sighed with relief.

"Good."

He picked up the speed when he reached a part of the interstate that was flat, determined to reach you as soon as possible.

"They told me they took her to a hospital in Salt Lake City," he said after a while, and she looked up from her sketch pad as she listened. "I think it might be the same spot the Fireflies wanted us to take you."

"Oh," she said, sitting back in her seat, deep in thought. "I wonder why they wanted her there."

"What'dya mean?"

Ellie paused, remembering Joel still didn't know the real reason Marlene asked him to take her. She decided to be somewhat honest with him, considering all he had done for her, it was the least she could do.

"It's a research facility," she said.

"Research? For what?"

"I overheard some stuff once. They're trying to find a cure," she said. "For the virus."

"A cure?" Joel repeated, furrowing his brow. "The hell they need her for?"

Ellie chewed her lip nervously before answering.

"Test subjects," she finally said, her face falling. Joel swallowed thickly as the implication behind her words set in.

"Ellie," he said slowly, gripping the wheel tightly. "Do you know that for a fact?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I had a friend. She was taken there, she never came back. I found out later what happened," she sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"And that's why they wanted us to take you there? To test a cure on you?"

"Yeah," Ellie lied, shifting her gaze out the window, immediately feeling guilty. She wasn't lying about the test subjects, but she didn't feel comfortable yet telling him it was her blood they wanted to test next.

Joel drove through the night, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers numb, but he made it in about 8 hours. It was still dark out as he found a secluded spot a couple blocks away and parked the truck. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, wondering how the hell he was going to do this. Ellie stirred in the seat next to him, yawning and stretching before looking around.

"Are we here?"

"Yeah. Hospital's that tall building over there," he said, pointing to the side. She looked through the window and nodded before looking back at Joel.

"You should get some rest," she told him, but he shook his head.

"Can't."

"Yeah, you can. How do you think you're gonna do this when you've been up for, what, a day and a half?"

"I don't got a choice, they could be doin' shit to her right now," he argued, then leaned over the seat to grab the hunting rifle.

"They've only had her for a day, she's fine. Most they did at this point was inject her with an experimental vaccine. They don't test it for a few days," she explained, sitting back in her seat. Joel frowned.

"How do you know all this?"

Ellie shrugged and nervously chewed on her nail.

"Just do."

Joel just stared at her. He was beginning to realize she was hiding something from him, but he couldn't worry about it yet. He didn't think Ellie would have any reason to lie to him, so he considered his options: take her word for it and get some rest so he could be as strong as possible to take all those fuckers down, or go in blind and weak right now and hope for the best.

"And when you say they 'test it', d'you mean..."

"They keep infected in there," she said with a nod. "Best way to test it is to get bit and watch."

"Fuck," Joel whispered, shakily running his hand over his mouth as he stared out the windshield. "You're gonna tell me how you know all this shit after we get her back, you hear me?" His tone was firm and his jaw was set as he shot her a glare. She nodded.

"Alright," he said after a moment, breathing in deeply. "Here's the plan. You keep watch, I try to get some rest for a couple hours. Then we move. Before I just storm in there, I gotta see what we're dealin' with. Think you can handle that?" He finally turned to Ellie and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"Yeah," she said, sitting up in her seat. "I can handle it."

Reluctantly, Joel handed her the rifle. She eagerly took it from his grip.

"For the scope. So you can see anythin' comin' our way when I'm out," he explained, then eyed up the way she was holding the gun. "You ever use one of these things?"

"No, can't be that hard, can it? Just point and shoot," she said with a shrug as she examined the firearm. Joel sighed before leaning over and giving her a quick tutorial.

"Just don't fuckin' shoot me when I'm sleepin'," he told her, then tipped the seat back and bunched his coat up around his neck, closing his eyes. She grinned then took her post, scanning the perimeter every few minutes for any movement while Joel snored softly in the driver's seat.

Ellie weighed her options. Should she tell him the truth? Should she tell him she's immune? Would it even matter? She decided against it for now. It wouldn't change the plan. Maybe one day she would tell him. Once they got you back and the three of you were safely back in Jackson. For now, she had to stay focused and help rescue you. She wouldn't let the Fireflies take another one of her friends.

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