#I wanted to use these lights in an edit for ages

[janthecrow]

decided to post my sky:cotl edit here

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write smut ?

(@urfriendlywriter | req by @rbsstuff @yourlocalmerchgirl anyone under the appropriate age, please proceed with caution :') hope this helps guys! )

writing smut depends on each person's writing style but i think there's something so gut-wrenchingly beautiful about smut when it's not very graphic and vivid. like., would this turn on a reader more?

"he kissed her, pulling her body closer to him."

or this?

"His lips felt so familiar it hurt her heart. His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. She let herself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against her spine. He drew her closer."

(Before proceeding further, these are all "in my opinion" what I think would make it better. Apply parts of the advice you like and neglect the aspects you do not agree with it. Once again I'm not saying you have to follow a certain type of style to write smut! Creative freedom exists for a reason!)

One may like either the top or the bottom one better, but it totally depends on your writing to make it work. Neither is bad, but the second example is more flattering, talking literally. (Here is me an year after writing this post, i think, either is amazing, depending on the context. the type of book you're writing, your writing style and preferences!)

express one's sensory feelings, and the readers will automatically know what's happening.

writing, "her walls clenched against him, her breath hitching with his every thrust" is better than writing, "she was about to cum".

(edit: once again, hi, it's me. Either is amazing depending on ur writing style. Everything at the end is about taste.)

here are some vocabulary you can introduce in your writing:

whimpered, whispered, breathed lightly, stuttered, groaned, grunted, yearned, whined, ached, clenched, coaxed, cried out, heaved, hissed

shivering, shuddering, curling up against one's body, squirming, squirting, touching, teasing, taunting, guiding, kneeling, begging, pining, pinching, grinding,

swallowing, panting, sucking in a sharp breath, thrusting, moving gently, gripped, biting, quivering,

nibbling, tugging, pressing, licking, flicking, sucking, panting, gritting, exhaling in short breaths,

wet kisses, brushing soft kisses across their body (yk where), licking, sucking, teasing, tracing, tickling, bucking hips, forcing one on their knees

holding hips, guiding the one on top, moving aimlessly, mindlessly, sounds they make turn insanely beautiful, sinful to listen to

some adverbs to use: desperately, hurriedly, knowingly, teasingly, tauntingly, aimlessly, shamelessly, breathlessly, passionately, delicately, hungrily

he sighed with pleasure

her skin flushed

he shuddered when her body moved against his

he planted kisses along her jawline

her lips turned red, messy, kissed and flushed.

his hands were on his hair, pulling him.

light touches traveled down his back

words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more

he arched his back, his breath quivering

her legs parted, sinking into the other's body, encircling around their waist.

+ mention the position, how they're being moved around---are they face down, kneeling, or standing, or on top or on bottom--it's really helpful to give a clear picture.

+ use lustful talk, slow seduction, teasing touches, erratic breathing, give the readers all while also giving them nothing. make them yearn but DO NOT PROLONG IT.

sources to refer to for more:

gesture that gets me on my knees !!

(more to comeee, check out my hot or kisses prompts on my master list!)

[cuntyji]

the first video nanami ever posted was filmed on a shaky phone propped up against a bag of flour.

he was making bread—simple, easy, the kind of thing he found comfort in after long days at work. his hands moved methodically, kneading the dough with a quiet precision, and though he spoke very little, the video was oddly calming.

he hadn't expected much from it. maybe a few views, maybe a couple of people who’d appreciate the lack of unnecessary chatter. but the comments were overwhelmingly positive, people asking about his technique, his recipe, his voice—deep, smooth, effortlessly steady. so he made another video. then another.

it was the late-night upload of him singing "baby one more time" by the marías that changed everything.

filmed on an old macbook with a grainy webcam, the lighting barely enough to make out his face, the video had been an impulse decision—one he almost deleted. it was just him, sitting on his couch, his voice low and hushed, the way he usually sang to lull yuuji to sleep. but the internet clung to it like ivy, twisting and reaching until the video had over a million views by the end of the week.

"who is he." "why is this the most intimate thing i've ever heard in my life." "he looks exhausted and sounds like a dream, i'm in love."

he thought it would pass. but it didn't.

his subscribers doubled overnight. the demand for more was loud, insistent. nanami, being nanami, didn’t rush to meet it. instead, he structured it into his routine: one video a week, a mix of baking and singing—because baking was reliable, and singing had never been something he shared outside of yuuji’s bedtime.

his channel evolved. the baking videos became polished, edited with subtle precision. he switched to voiceovers, explaining each step in that same low, deliberate tone that made people feel like he was speaking just to them. and when he sang, it was always songs that carried a quiet sort of nostalgia.

"he only sings songs he sings to his kid to sleep i’m crying." "his lullabies are better than half the music industry." "i don’t know his name, his age, or his face properly, but i know his banana bread recipe by heart."

nanami never explicitly talked about being a single dad, but it was impossible to miss. yuuji’s voice sometimes made cameos in the background, muffled questions about homework, laughter when nanami burnt the edges of a cake. he didn’t hide it, didn’t play it up. it was just a part of his life, and his audience adored him for it.

his faq video—one of the few times he ever directly addressed personal questions—answered almost nothing.

"are you married?" "no." "how old are you?" "old enough." "what's your name?" "nanami."

the mystery only made people more obsessed.

"i know nothing about him but i’d die for him." "his hands. his voice. his existence." "the fact that he bakes and sings for his kid and still won’t tell us his age is crazy."

he now posted twice a week. one video was always baking, the other was whatever he wanted—sometimes music, sometimes a quiet q&a, sometimes just a video of him making tea while rain hit the windows.

people knew everything and nothing about him at the same time. they knew the exact ratio of brown sugar he preferred in cookies but not what city he lived in. they knew he tucked yuuji in every night with a song but had never seen his full face in a single frame. they knew the precise cadence of his voice when he said “and that’s how you make the perfect loaf” but had never heard him say “i love you”—and yet, somehow, they felt like they had.

the internet had fallen in love with him. and nanami, quietly, without even trying, had changed his life with nothing but flour-dusted hands and the sound of his own voice.

[shellshocklove]

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants. 

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he  ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use. 

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic. 

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel. 

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed. 

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap. 

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt. 

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation. 

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya." 

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks. 

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that? 

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You could be brave– Just say it! 

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure. 

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan? 

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home. 

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand. 

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason. 

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped. 

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt. 

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks. 

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form. 

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks. 

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless. 

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck. 

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder. 

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock. 

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand. 

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug. 

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."  

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing. 

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass. 

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity. 

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man. 

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away. 

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth. 

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly. 

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out. 

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub." 

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal. 

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to. 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you. 

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built. 

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles. 

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.    

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum. 

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin. 

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[miedei]

nonexistent rizz

the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled???? (aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)

a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way

wc: 2k

part two | part three | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”

Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office. 

Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”

“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen. 

With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.

“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”

“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”

“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”

At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”

Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder. 

“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”

The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table. 

All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia. 

There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.

His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.

But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting- 

Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.

Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide. 

Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar. 

It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer… 

JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway. 

The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully. 

“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving. 

“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly. 

The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.

The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.” 

That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her. 

JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away. 

It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth. 

They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch. 

“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.

Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words. 

“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it. 

BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)

“What?”

[sirfrogsworth]

I think in this new age of A.I. the general public is going to need to increase their photography and lighting literacy. The response to this photo has just been a shit show.

There are people pointing out perfectly normal edge lighting and misunderstanding how reflections work.

First the plane is parked at an angle. The tail is farther back than the nose. But also that is a curved surface and it tapers. It's reflecting the area to the right of the photo.

And the bottom of the plane is reflecting what is directly underneath. Which is the tarmac, not the crowd.

It should also be noted that photo was shot with a very telephoto lens and everything is super compressed. The crowd appears much closer to the airplane than they actually are.

But then someone who should have good understanding of lighting said this...

And now I'm worried for her clients. Because that's very... wrong.

Well, wrong-ish.

First, let's try to understand why this photo is setting off some alarm bells.

The crowd toward the rear is in shadow, but they are still very well exposed. But then there is also a bright light source creating a strong edge light on them. Looking at this photo with just the context of what is in it, there are some things that seem uncanny.

The information we do not have is the people in the shadow area are inside a very brightly lit airplane hangar.

So they have artificial light blasting them from the top.

But that light is still much dimmer than the sunlit areas outside so they appear in shade. But we are used to shade being much darker than areas in direct sun. So the balance seems off in our brain. We expect the people to be darker because we don't have the context of the bright hangar lights above them.

But the other issue is that the photo was post processed. It wasn't manipulated. The pixels weren't changed. But the exposure balance was altered.

If I were to guess, the original photo looked more like this...

But newer digital cameras can have 13 to 15 stops of dynamic range. And if you shoot in RAW, you can easily lift shadows and bring down highlights. You can balance the exposure so the dark parts aren't as dark and the bright parts aren't as bright. This photographer might have overdone it a bit in this case, but this is a fairly standard edit used to bring balance to photos.

And lastly, where does the edge light come from?

Edge lighting or backlighting or rim lighting (all the same) should probably be called wrap-around lighting if you want to be more accurate.

It comes from a homogenous light source that is larger than the subject being lit. So with my knife photo, I placed it on a large LED panel light.

The light source was bigger than the subject so it wrapped around the edges.

And I'm afraid the airplane is not nearly large enough to create a light source to wrap around everyone in the crowd. It isn't even reflecting direct sunlight. So I'm sorry to say that lighting designer was mostly mistaken despite the confidence.

The light source is... everything.

That entire red area I highlighted is the light source.

As well as everything above and everything to the sides.

And the biggest aspect of that light source would be the sky above. I think people always forget the sky is a light source. If you are seeing blue, you are seeing light. And I guess the plane is included in that, but that entire highlighted red area is so bright, and so filled with sunlight bouncing around, that it creates basically a giant softbox. It becomes a huge single light source for the people in the hangar.

If you look at footage taken from way inside the hangar, you can see the camera adjusting exposure for the crowd inside, but look at what happens to the sunlit area outside.

What does that look like?

A giant softbox.

A single homogenous light source blasting light inside the hangar.

The sun is so incredibly bright that even when it is not directly lighting something, the light just bouncing around outside is enough to overpower the very bright hangar lights.

So, what have we learned from this?

Perhaps people should hire me to be their lighting designer.

Though I'm sure she is actually very talented. She seems to work with stage lights and this is more physics and photography.

Phystography.

[atrwriting]

terrible company — logan howlett x reader

secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are

side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene

back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy

barely edited we die like overworked students men

minors fuck off plz n thnx

as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick

—

“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”

you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.

he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.

you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”

he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”

you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.

you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.

your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.

not even close.

the worst part was that logan was your partner.

it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.

you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.

but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?

made your fucking blood boil.

that no good, rotten, fucking —

“hey, sweetheart —“

when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.

“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.

fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.

he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”

he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.

you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.

he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.

you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.

“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”

“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.

he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”

with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.

no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —

but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.

but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.

you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.

fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.

when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.

when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.

“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.

“…is it working?”

you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.

fuck.

you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.

“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”

“…fuckin’ vegans.”

“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”

“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.

you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.

you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.

you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.

him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.

“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.

straddled him, to be more exact.

in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.

“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“

he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.

you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”

he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.

“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.

“you’re good — i get them, too.”

“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.

that was it. the final straw.

you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”

he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”

“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”

“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”

“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”

oh — you shouldn’t have.

you really, really shouldn’t have.

you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.

you watched his nose crinkle in anger.

he let out a frustrated, slow breath.

another.

and another.

and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.

you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.

“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”

you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?

“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”

you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“

he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.

“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”

you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.

heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.

“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.

the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.

logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.

men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.

and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.

it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.

…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —

he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.

instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.

and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.

he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.

“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”

“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“

he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”

you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.

“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”

you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”

you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.

you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.

it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.

he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.

you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.

“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”

you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.

it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”

you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.

“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”

“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“

“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”

“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.

“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“

every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.

logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.

“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”

you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.

and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.

he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.

“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”

you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.

the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.

he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”

he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.

“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”

you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”

that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.

“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”

“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”

he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.

“right there —!” you sobbed.

“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”

you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.

“all mine.”

“my fucking pussy —“

“good fucking girl —“

“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”

your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.

logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.

you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.

it was going to be a long, long night...

[enhard]

⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung

: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?

pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader

CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything

notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy

wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)

There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.

His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.

Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.

 You looked at the time,

 [01:54 AM]

“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno.  He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.

As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.

You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.

“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.

“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”

Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.

A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.

“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.

She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.

“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”

You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.

After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.

“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”

He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.

“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.

A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.

Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.

“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.

“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?

After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.

“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.

You let him win, again.

“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.

You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.

One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.

Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.

“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”

“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”

“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”

“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”

“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.

. . .

After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT

“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:

Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.

Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”

Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.

“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”

The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.

When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.

“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.

There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.

“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”

“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?

“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”

“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”

“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”

That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?

He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”

You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”

That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”

Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”

He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”

You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.

“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”

“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.

“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.

As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”

You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”

You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”

You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.

The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.

“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.

He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.

As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.

Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?

What an asshole.

After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.

“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.

Date: [7th of December]

Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]

Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR

Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]

We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.

Warm regards,

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”

After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.

On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.

You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.

“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.

“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”

“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”

“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”

“And what’s that? amaze me.”

“Could you act that you’re my fiancé for tonight?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”

“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.

“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”

“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.

“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.

After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”

You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”

“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”

“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”

“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”

That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”

“The good sex part?” he says softly.

“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.

“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”

“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.

“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”

He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.

“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”

He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.

He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.

“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.

“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.

You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.

A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.

“hey y/n”

“Who is this?”

“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”

“ugh what do u want”

“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”

“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”

“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”

[1 attachment]

The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.

The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.

“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”

“do u want this to be your only one?”

You leave him on seen for a minute or two.

“where r u”

“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”

“🖕”

You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.

“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”

“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”

He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...

“Get on your knees.”

He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.

You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.

You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.

“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.

“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”

“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”

“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”

“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.

“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”

“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”

“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.

“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.

Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.

I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.

———————————————————————

a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3

[teaboot]

TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS

I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching

Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order

John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.

The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas

Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it

The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.

Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.

Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room

The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah

Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!

Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch

Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored

[mingi-s-dimples]

「 Daddy's Summer Fling - J.YH 」

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”

~"Dilf Yunho x Daughter's best friend. She visits her friends place for the summer where her dad will be too. Reader is attracted to him, things ensue, ~ anon

pairing: dilf!yunho x fem student!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: your friend has a wonderful idea of asking you to spend the summer at her father’s vacation house... little did you know you'd not only spend the nights there.. but also nights with him.

wc: 9.9k

warnings: dilf!yunho, college student! reader, age gap (about 18 years - 20/38), virgin reader, daddy kink, size kink, praise & slight drgradation, overstimulation, manhandling, voyeurism/exhibitionism (semi-public/public touches), slight corruption kink, slight oral fixation (finger and cock sucking), light breath play (choking), face fucking, cum eating, fingering, dacryphilia, praise kink, cockwarming, breeding kink, marking, backshots, huge cock!yunho, pain kink, possessiveness, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), completely consensual, for sureeee forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Notes: this was insaneeee to write... sorry anon for taking me so long, I had to write it as well as possible and well- it has almost 10k words. whoops. I hope you enjoy this lil (metaphorically speaking) fic and if you do don't hesitate to dm me or send me an anon ask with your thoughts! ♡

Reminder that reblogs, comments and likes help lots with my engagement and I will forever be grateful for each of you ♡

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

“You should come with me to visit my dad over this summer,” your best friend had suggested one lazy afternoon, sprawled out on your dorm room bed. “He has this amazing summer house by the lake—huge place, so we’ll have all the space we need to chill. Plus, I barely get to see him during the school year, so I try to spend as much time there as I can.”

You had hesitated at first, not because you didn’t want to go, but because it felt… intimate. Staying at her father’s house for an extended period wasn’t like crashing at her dorm or her mom’s place back in the city. It was different. Personal. But when she assured you he wouldn’t mind—that, in fact, he’d be happy to have you over—you agreed.

And now, as you stepped out of your parents’ car, the summer heat blanketing your skin, you were beyond grateful you’d said yes.

The house was beautiful—exactly how she had described it. Rustic yet modern, tucked away in nature with a view of the lake in the distance. But none of that held your attention. No, your focus was entirely on the man standing in the courtyard.

He had his back to you at first, broad and impossibly strong, the muscles in his shoulders shifting as he raised a hand to wipe sweat from his brow. His tanned skin gleamed under the sunlight, glistening with sweat as he worked, the flex of his biceps hypnotizing as he adjusted something on the wooden fence. Your throat went dry. He was gorgeous—tall, built like a dream, dark hair damp and tousled. Holy fuck.

“Who is that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, eyes locked onto him.

Your best friend glanced at where you were staring, then grinned. “Oh, that’s my dad.”

Your stomach dropped. Her dad. As in, her father. The man you had just been shamelessly ogling like he was carved from marble. Heat flooded your face so fast it made you lightheaded. You tried to snap your gaze away, but it was too late—he had turned, sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

And just like that, you were even more screwed. Because now that you could see his face, he was somehow even hotter. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones, a hint of stubble across his chin. His lips were full, slightly parted as he caught his breath from whatever work he’d been doing. His gaze flickered over you once, quick but assessing, before settling on your best friend.

You forced yourself to look away, heart hammering. This was going to be a long summer.

You managed to shake off your embarrassment—at least on the surface—as your best friend ran up to hug her father. He greeted her with a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her before turning his attention to you.

“So you’re the infamous best friend I’ve been hearing about,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, and effortlessly confident. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Infamous? Your best friend had talked about you to him? You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile as you shook the hand he offered. His grip was firm, fingers warm and slightly rough from whatever work he’d been doing. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jeong.”

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Just Yunho is fine. ‘Mr. Jeong’ makes me feel ancient.”

You nodded, cheeks still warm. Yunho. Just Yunho. That was going to be a problem.

After unloading your bags and settling into the guest room, you spent the afternoon exploring the property. The house was just as stunning inside as it was outside—spacious, open, with large windows that overlooked the lake. As the sun dipped lower, the heat softened, replaced by the golden glow of early evening.

That’s how you found yourself outside, sitting on the wooden steps of the back porch, watching the water shimmer under the setting sun. Your best friend had gone to take a call inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Or at least, you thought you were alone.

“You like it here?”

You nearly jumped at the deep voice, turning to find Yunho standing nearby. He had changed out of his sweaty work clothes, now in a loose button-up with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked even better like this—casual, effortless.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your knees to keep your hands from fidgeting. “It’s beautiful.”

He hummed, stepping forward to lean against the railing. “I try to come out here as much as I can. It’s quiet, peaceful. Good place to get away from everything.”

You nodded, watching the water ripple as a breeze passed through. “I can see why.”

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again. “You seem a little nervous.”

You stiffened. Was it that obvious? “I—no,” you lied. “Just… new place, new environment.”

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close. “Well, make yourself at home. You’re welcome here.”

The way he said it—low, slow, with that smooth voice of his—made something stir inside you. You could feel his eyes on you, heavier than before, like he was actually looking at you now. Not just as his daughter’s best friend, but as something else.

You swallowed, shifting under his gaze. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence. Then he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back at the lake. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head. “Who?”

A pause. Then, quietly, “Me.”

That threw you off. “You?”

He nodded. “When I was younger, I was like that too. A little quiet, a little unsure. Always overthinking instead of just… enjoying things.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “You don’t seem like that now.”

“I’m not,” he admitted. “Life has a way of changing you.”

His voice had dropped, just a little. And you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed him—what had made him go from the person he used to be to the man standing in front of you now. For the first time, you weren’t just seeing him as your best friend’s father. You were seeing him.

Before you could respond, the screen door creaked open, and your best friend came rushing out, practically bouncing on her feet.

“Oh! I just had the best idea!” she announced, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in energy between you and her father. “Let’s go swimming! The lake is so warm this time of year, and the sun’s setting—it’s perfect.”

You blinked, still processing your conversation with Yunho, but she was already grabbing your hand. “Come on, you brought your swimsuit, right? Let’s change and go!”

You barely had a chance to glance at Yunho before she was dragging you inside.

Minutes later, you found yourself standing at the edge of the dock, the lake stretching endlessly in front of you. The last of the sunlight cast everything in a golden glow, the water lapping gently at the wooden beams beneath your feet.

Your best friend was already diving in, splashing as she resurfaced with a grin. “Come on! It’s perfect!”

Taking a breath, you stepped forward, adjusting the strings of your bikini before following her in. The water was warmer than expected, smooth and inviting as it wrapped around your skin. You surfaced with a gasp, wiping droplets from your lashes.

And then you saw him. Yunho had just emerged from the house, walking toward the dock with an easy, unbothered stride. He had changed into black swim trunks, the drawstrings hanging loose over his hips. But what really got you—what made your breath hitch—was his bare torso.

You’d thought he was attractive before. But now? Seeing him like this, all toned muscle and golden skin, veins running down his forearms, droplets of water from his damp hair trailing down his chest—he looked like he belonged on the cover of some magazine.

And then his gaze flicked to yours.

It was barely a second, just a glance as he stepped onto the dock, but it sent something sharp through you. His eyes lingered—just a little too long—before he turned away, stretching his arms overhead like he hadn’t just knocked the air from your lungs.

You quickly ducked your head, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

A loud splash pulled you from your thoughts as Yunho finally joined you both in the water. He swam easily, his strokes controlled, smooth, before he surfaced near you. The lake was big, but suddenly it felt too small, his presence swallowing the space between you.

Your best friend, oblivious as ever, floated on her back a few feet away, humming to herself.

And that’s when it started.

The first touch was barely anything—just a brush of his arm against yours as he swam past you. But it was deliberate. The second came when he surfaced beside you again, his hand grazing your back under the water. You froze, lips parting slightly, but he didn’t even look at you. Like nothing had happened.

Then, when you shifted to float on your back, your stomach grazing the surface, something firm, warm, pressed again against your lower back—his hand. Just for a second. A silent, lingering touch that sent heat spiraling through your body.

He was testing you.

And then, just when you thought you were imagining it all, when you thought maybe you were overreacting—

His fingers brushed your hand again. More lingering.. A featherlight touch, fleeting but unmistakable. Your breath caught in your throat.

But when you turned to look at him, his expression was unreadable. Calm. Unbothered. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line neither of you could take back.

You tried to focus on the water, on the way the golden ripples shimmered around you, on anything but the weight of Yunho’s fingers barely grazing your thigh under the surface.

But you couldn’t. Not when your body felt hot despite the cool lake, not when your mind kept replaying every subtle touch, every lingering glance. And definitely not when you could feel him watching you.

Yunho let out a quiet hum, tilting his head slightly. "You’re not very good at hiding it, sweetheart. The way your eyes drop to my hands, my arms… like you’re imagining them all over you."

And then, just when you thought you had a grip on yourself, Yunho moved closer. Not much—just enough that you could feel the water shift between you, enough that his shoulder brushed yours again, his skin warm even in the cool lake.

He was too close. But not close enough. You exhaled shakily. “You’re making it worse.”

His lips twitched, gaze dropping briefly—to your lips?—before meeting your eyes again. “Am I?” It wasn’t fair. The way he spoke, the way he looked at you now—like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was enjoying it.

But you weren’t innocent either. Not when you found yourself leaning in just slightly, not when you let your fingers skim the surface of the water between you, almost—almost—brushing against his chest before pulling away.

His jaw tightened, just for a second.

“Careful, baby.” he murmured.

It wasn’t a warning. It was a challenge.

Your breath hitched, fingers curling against your palm. You wanted to push. You wanted to see just how much you could pull from him, how far he’d let you go before he finally cracked.

But before you could say anything, before you could cross a line you weren’t sure you could come back from—

“Alright, I’m freezing,” your best friend announced, completely shattering the moment as she waded toward the dock. “I’m gonna make some hot cocoa. You guys coming?”

You inhaled sharply, blinking as if snapping out of a trance. Yunho was still watching you, his expression unreadable, but he said nothing as he turned away, swimming toward the dock with effortless strokes.

You hesitated, heart still racing, before following after them.

The sun was dipping lower now, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple. Your best friend had already climbed onto the dock, shaking herself off with a giggle.

“Hurry up, you two!” she called, turning around. “The sun’s almost gone, and I want marshmallows and hot cocoa before it’s dark!”

You barely had time to respond before she disappeared inside the house.

But you didn’t need to.

You could feel Yunho beside you, his presence undeniable, heavy in the air like a magnet pulling you closer.

Without saying a word, you both followed your best friend back into the warmth of the house. The kitchen was cozy, and your best friend was already pulling out skewers and marshmallows from the cupboard, humming happily to herself.

The porch door opened wide, and she called to you both, “You guys coming? The fire pit’s waiting!”

Yunho glanced over his shoulder at you before stepping outside. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable now. It made your pulse skip, and you tried to focus on anything other than the way he’d looked at you in the lake.

Your best friend immediately took a seat by the fire, poking the marshmallow onto the end of her skewer with an exaggerated flourish. You sat beside her, glancing at Yunho, who was standing slightly behind you. His eyes flicked to yours for the briefest moment, but you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not. The heat of his gaze, as if he was searching for something on your face. Without thinking, you grabbed a marshmallow from the bag and stuck it onto the skewer. Your hands shook slightly, but you tried to ignore it.

The fire crackled, snapping in the still air, and your best friend shifted, glancing between you and Yunho with a teasing smile. “You guys are awfully quiet. Someone’s gotta talk! Tell me you’ve been getting along.” Your best friend was too chill for your liking.. maybe because her father had her young and had a closer bond with him but, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being wanted by him. That feeling only made it worse for you all day.

You forced a smile, but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts kept drifting to the way his hand had brushed against yours in the water, how close he had been when you were swimming. How every interaction between you felt charged with something unspoken.

As the marshmallows started to brown over the fire, you felt Yunho step closer. You didn’t look up at him, but you could feel his presence. The way his body loomed over yours, the subtle shift in his posture that told you he was right there—watching.

The fire crackled, the only sound between you, and you could feel his breath just behind your ear.

"You're so easy to mess with, baby. One little touch and you're already breathless”, Yunho murmured, his voice low and barely audible over the crackling flames. “It’s hard to focus when you’re right here…”

Your breath caught in your throat. Did he really just say that?

Your best friend, oblivious, leaned forward, blowing air at her marshmallow to cool it down. “What are you two talking about? Are y’all gossiping about me, huh? I’m dying to know!”

You nearly jumped when Yunho shifted his weight, stepping away just slightly. But the damage had been done—the tension between you two was now palpable.

You glanced at him quickly, just enough to catch him looking back at you, a hint of something dangerous in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and shoved the marshmallow into the flames, letting it burn just a little too much. It was easier to focus on the heat of the fire than the heat of Yunho’s gaze. But you knew, deep down, that the fire wasn’t the only thing burning between you.

The marshmallows were finished, the sweet gooey centers burnt just enough to give them that perfect crisp, and your best friend was happily munching away, occasionally giving you a sly look.

You tried to ignore the fire that was burning between you and Yunho. You could feel him, the heat of his body next to yours as you both stared at the flickering flames.

You didn't dare look at him directly. The air felt too heavy, and your best friend didn’t notice—too distracted by the phone in her hand.

“Hold on,” she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s my boyfriend. I’ll just be a sec.” She took the call, stepping away from the fire pit for some privacy.

You were left in a silence with Yunho. He didn’t move at first, simply letting the sound of the crackling fire fill the space. His gaze didn’t leave you, though. You could feel it, like a weight on your skin, every subtle look making your breath hitch.

A few moments passed before Yunho shifted slightly closer to you.

“You know,” he started, voice hushed but laced with that trademark smoothness, “you look stunning tonight.” Your pulse jumped. You barely managed to glance at him, catching the subtle tilt of his head.

You didn’t respond immediately, unsure of how to form words when your body was begging you to lean into the heat of his touch. But you had to. “Thanks,” you mumbled, fingers gripping your cup just a little too tightly.

The corner of his lips quirked up into that teasing smile, and your heart thudded in your chest. He reached out, his fingers brushing gently against your thigh, just the lightest contact—but enough to make your breath catch.

He didn’t take his hand away, though, leaving it there as if it belonged. His touch was light, almost like a warning, and every inch of you wanted more.

"You're not fooling me," he murmured, his voice low. "All those little touches, all those innocent looks. You knew exactly what you were doing, sweetheart."

You swallowed, feeling the heat surge through your veins. "Is that so?"

Yunho’s thumb traced a small circle on the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate. You could barely breathe. The tension between you two was excruciating, and the only thing you could do was sit there, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to collapse under the pressure of his touch.

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”,he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. He saw his daughter coming back, but before he moved his hand away, he reassured you, his voice low, “I'll make it up to you later.”

Before you could respond, your best friend walked back in, phone still pressed to her ear.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. “Okay, love you, see you soon!”

She hung up, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Yunho removed his hand, but you could still feel the faint heat of his touch, like a lingering burn against your skin.

“Looks like someone’s got plans,” Yunho said, glancing at you and then at his daughter. You raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, I’m going to my boyfriend’s place for a couple of hours. He just got into town, and I promised I’d see him while he’s here.” She smiled at Yunho, her eyes bright with excitement.

You felt a little knot form in your stomach, not because you weren’t happy for her, but because now it was just you and Yunho. Alone.

“Of course,” Yunho replied smoothly, his voice warmer now, more amused. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Have fun.”

You watched your best friend rush off, her steps quick as she headed toward the door, ready to leave. The moment she stepped outside, the door closing behind her, the tension in the room shifted.

The marshmallows had all been roasted and eaten, the warmth from the fire still lingering in the air as you and Yunho began cleaning up the plates. Your best friend promised she’d be back in an hour.

Yunho's gaze lingering just a little too long, his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him a plate, and you tried to ignore the spark that shot up your arm.

“So,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “do you always roast marshmallows this late?”

Yunho chuckled, his eyes glinting in the soft kitchen light. “Only when the company’s worth it.”

You glanced up at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the intensity in his eyes. But before you could reply, his phone buzzed.

He picked it up, swiping the screen with one hand while keeping his other hand casually resting on the counter.

“Everything okay?” you asked, casually, though the beat of your heart had quickened.

Yunho nodded, though his smile had turned a little more amused. “Yeah, just got a message from my daughter.”

He read through it and then let out a little chuckle, his tone warm but with an edge of something else. “She’s staying at her boyfriend’s tonight.”

“That so?” you said, trying to play it cool, even as the weight of his words settled over you.

He put the phone down, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The atmosphere had shifted, the air between you suddenly thick with tension. “Guess we’re alone now.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening in response to his proximity.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. “Guess so,” you whispered, trying to keep your cool, though every inch of you was on edge.

He leaned even closer, his body just a hair's breadth away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, making your skin burn.

“Well,” Yunho said, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I think we can find something to do with all this time, don’t you?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you as he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, slow—each step calculated, bringing him nearer to you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively took a small step back, but the moment you did, he closed the distance, forcing you to press your back against the cool, hard wall behind you.

He didn’t touch you at first. He simply stood there, watching you, his eyes dark and intent, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his gaze unwavering.

Yunho murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "You’ve been looking at me like you want something, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me?"

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your chest tightening. It was like he was daring you to run—daring you to pull away from him—but you couldn’t. Your body wanted him too much.

“I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, your heart pounding in your chest.

His smile widened just a little, a flicker of something dark in his gaze as he stepped closer again, pushing you further back against the wall.

His hand, warm and confident, landed on your hip, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He gave you a moment to adjust, to feel him there, testing the waters.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. In fact, your body seemed to lean into the touch, craving more, eager for him to push further.

He noticed. The slight shift of your body, the way your chest fluttered with every breath. His eyes darkened, and with a sharp inhale, his hand moved up to your waist, his fingers grazing the side of your ribs.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Are you okay with this?”

Your heart raced, your mind spinning. You wanted to speak, to tell him yes, but all you could do was nod, too lost in the way his hand made you feel.

Yunho’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before it returned to your eyes. "That’s not enough for you, is it, baby?”

You didn’t need to say anything. The way you leaned into him, the way your breath hitched, the way your body trembled under his touch said it all.

Without warning, he cupped your chin with his other hand, forcing your head up just slightly as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was soft at first, his mouth teasing, coaxing, exploring with the gentlest pressure. You melted into it, your hands slipping up to rest on his chest.

But then his hand slid down to your lower back, and the kiss deepened. It was like a switch flipped inside of him. His kiss grew more insistent, more urgent, as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

His other hand slid up to your chest, cupping the side of your breast. The pressure was light, just enough to make your heart race faster. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, kissing your neck, while his hand slid lower.

Your body was burning. Every nerve felt alive, tingling with need. You felt your knees weaken as his hand moved beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach.

When you leaned into him again, desperate for more of his touch, he smirked, knowing full well how much power he had over you.

“Tell me, baby…” he started as the hand on your lower back moved to your pants, unbuttoning them. His hand trailed around your waist until it slipped right in your panties. “...did you get this wet just by thinking about me?”

You whimpered under his touch… And that’s when he got rougher.

His hands moved quickly, more forceful now, pulling you flush against him. He groaned as your bodies collided, the heat between you rising higher, his grip tightening around your waist as he pressed his hips into yours.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Yunho growled, his lips brushing your ear. “And I’m going to make sure you know it.”

Yunho’s hands were a whirlwind of heat and strength, gripping you tightly as he pulled you against him. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, and his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

"You wanted my attention, and now you have it. Let’s see if you can handle it.” he murmured, his voice a deep, rough whisper that made your heart race. His hands moved down your sides, squeezing your hips with a possessive grip. "You’ve been such a good girl, waiting for this… dripping for me. You want your reward, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as your body responded without you even realizing it. He was so close now, his knee between your thighs, pushing them apart, his touch firm, demanding. You could feel the heat between your legs, the desperate throb of your pussy as your body instinctively shifted closer to him.

“I—yes,” you gasped, your voice small but desperate. “I want it... but...”

Yunho froze, his hands tightening on your hips as his eyes snapped to yours.

“But... what?” he growled, his voice low.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the tension building, before you finally admitted, “I—I’m a virgin.”

Yunho cursed under his breath, his eyes darkening with both frustration and something darker—desire. His grip tightened almost painfully on your waist, his voice a rough rasp as he responded, “Fuck.” He took a slow breath, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin.

“You’re telling me... you’ve never been fucked before?” His tone was thick with disbelief, but it only made your body ache for him more.

“No,” you breathed, your hands hovering softly over his chest, desperate for his touch. “I—I’ve never...”

“"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before gripping your waist. His touch was firmer now, like he was holding himself back. His gaze flickered over your face, dark with something primal. "You’ve really never…?" He exhaled sharply, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Fuck. That means every little sound, every little reaction—" He swallowed hard, his voice dropping. "All of it’s gonna be just for me."

He moved his knee between your legs again, pressing harder, spreading you open with a force that had your head spinning. His hands slid up to your chest, the heat from his touch making your skin burn as he cupped your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading them through your clothes.

His lips descended on yours, kissing you with an intensity that took your breath away, his hands working at the fastenings of your clothes, undoing them with unrelenting precision.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed skin. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your breasts, and you gasped, your body trembling from the touch. “And all mine tonight.”

You were barely able to comprehend it all as Yunho’s hands worked their way down your body, his touch rough, almost possessive as he teased you, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin between your legs. You moaned, unable to help it, and he grinned darkly, his eyes flashing with a predatory glint.

“You’re mine tonight,” he repeated, the words burning in your ears. “And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

He lifted you easily, carrying you to the bedroom with a single-minded purpose, and when he dropped you onto the bed, the weight of his body followed immediately. He crawled over you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt the heat from his body overwhelm you.

Yunho’s lips ghosted over yours, his voice a low rasp. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it?"

His knee pressed between your legs, parting them effortlessly. His breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your thighs—slow, teasing—before slipping between them. Testing. Barely touching.

And then, he felt it.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Uh-oh… already so, so wet for me, baby?" His fingers pressed in just enough to make you gasp. "Guess I don’t even have to ask how bad you need this."

You couldn’t help but nod, your body aching for more, your chest heaving with desire. “P-please…”

He cursed again, his voice thick with frustration, and then, with a growl, he lifted you off the bed, moving you effortlessly to his side. “You better be ready for this, sweetheart. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Yunho’s lips were relentless against yours, claiming your mouth with a messy, desperate hunger. His tongue pushed past your lips, licking into you with no hesitation, no restraint—wet, hot, possessive. His teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging roughly before he slanted his mouth over yours again, deeper, hungrier, like he wanted to ruin you with just his kiss.

His hands were everywhere at once—gripping, kneading, stroking. He squeezed your waist before sliding lower, grabbing at your ass. The heat between your legs pulsed, your body arching instinctively into his as he pressed his weight down onto you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, flipping you around and pushing your chest into the wall. He tilted your head toward him, kissing you sloppily. He pressed himself against your ass, letting you feel just how eager he was to ruin you. “Feel this, baby..? That's just how much I want you”

You gasped into his mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall, desperate for something to hold on to. His hands moved higher, shoving your shirt up, his rough palms trailing over your bare skin, lighting a fire everywhere he touched.

“Need this off,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he yanked the fabric over your head. His mouth was on your shoulder in an instant, sucking harsh bruises into your skin, marking you, owning you.

You barely had a second to breathe before his hands moved again—one slipping on your back to unclasp your bra, the other gripping your hip, pressing you harder against the thick bulge in his jeans. He groaned as your bare breasts pressed against the wall.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before tossing them aside. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured, his hand trailing between your legs, fingertips teasing along your slit. “So wet for me already.” he said as he lowered himself on his knees, kisses trailing from your shoulder to your lower back, the to the soft, plush skin of your ass.

You whimpered, legs twitching as he rubbed slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure just enough to drive you insane. Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing more friction, and he smirked against your skin. “Impatient, huh?”.

But before you could whine, after he was done with his sloppy, soft trail of kisses, he suddenly got up and backed off. Your breath caught as you turned around and watched him reach for his own shirt, yanking it off and tossing it to the floor. His body was all hard muscle, broad shoulders flexing as he undid his belt, the soft clink of metal making your core clench with anticipation. He made a show of unbuttoning his jeans, shoving them down his thighs before kicking them off entirely, leaving him in just his boxers.

And that’s when you saw it. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as you stared at the thick, straining outline beneath the thin fabric. He was huge.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, catching your reaction. His gaze was dark, hungry, smug. “What’s wrong, baby?” he teased, palming himself through his boxers, giving a slow, deliberate squeeze. “Didn’t expect me to be this big?”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “I—”

His smirk deepened as he leaned back down over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ll make it fit.”

Yunho didn't give you a chance to process, didn't let you catch your breath before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoved them down.

Your gasp was instant, raw, eyes widening as his cock sprang free--thick, heavy, flushed deep at the tip. The veins running along the shaft stood out, prominent, like they were made to be traced with your own little tongue. He was so fucking big, the kind of size that made your thighs press together with both pleasure and just a little bit of fear.

Yunho caught the way you stared, your lips parting like you wanted to speak but couldn’t. His grin was slow, dark, as he stroked himself—letting you watch.

"That pretty little mouth of yours can’t even find the words, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, his eyes locked on you. "That’s alright, baby… I’d rather have it wrapped around my cock anyway."

Your whimper was embarrassingly loud as he approached you, his hand slipping on your ass, and he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips against your ear. ""Say it.'' His voice was rough, commanding. "Say you want Daddy to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched, shame burning at your skin, but the need-the sheer, aching desperation-was stronger. "I -" You swallowed hard, gripping at his forearms,

fingers barely able to wrap around the thick muscles there. "I want Daddy to fuck me.

Yunho’s cock throbbed in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, watching you with dark, hooded eyes. His other hand was between your legs, two thick fingers buried inside your dripping cunt, stretching you open.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his deep voice dripping with hunger as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that perfect spot that had your legs trembling. “Taking my fingers so well. Gonna feel so fucking good when I finally stretch you around my cock.”

Your whimper only made his smirk deepen. He pulled his fingers out slowly, dragging them against your walls before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing them against your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed instantly, parting your lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. The taste of yourself flooded your tongue, and Yunho groaned, watching as you sucked them clean, his cock twitching tall against his stomach.

“Fuck,” he growled, gripping the back of your head. “You’re gonna look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

He guided you down onto all fours between his spread thighs, his other hand still trailing between your legs, fingers teasing your swollen clit as he positioned you right in front of his cock. It was thick, flushed, the veins standing out as he stroked himself, making sure you saw just how big he was.

“Look at it, baby,” he murmured, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. “You’re gonna take your time with this, yeah? Let Daddy teach you how to suck it just right.”

You nodded, your breath warm against his cock as you hesitantly parted your lips. Yunho guided you with firm hands, his fingers threading through your hair as you took the swollen tip into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you wrapped your lips around him. “Fuck, yeah—just like that.”

His fingers between your legs moved in slow, lazy circles, teasing your clit as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper. He cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in your hair as he resisted the urge to thrust into your mouth.

“Relax your throat,” he murmured, voice strained. “Take more, baby. You can do it.”

You obeyed, inching down further, your tongue running along the prominent veins on the underside of his cock. Yunho let out a deep, shuddering breath, his hips twitching as he groaned, “Fuck—just like that.”

His fingers between your thighs finally pushed back inside you, stretching you open again as he fucked them into you in time with the slow, messy bob of your head. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl for me,” he panted, watching you take him, watching the way your thighs trembled from his touch.

His breathing grew ragged, his grip in your hair tightening as you swirled your tongue over the slit of his cock, tasting the salty precum. His hips jerked involuntarily, and a rough groan ripped from his throat.

“Gonna come,” he warned, voice wrecked, his cock throbbing on your tongue. “You gonna swallow like a good girl?”

You moaned around him, and that was it.

Yunho cursed, his muscles tensing as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling into your mouth. His grip on your hair loosened as he shuddered through it, his breath heavy and uneven.

You swallowed it all, licking your lips as you pulled back, and Yunho groaned at the sight, his thumb tracing your swollen lips. “Fuck, that was so hot,” he muttered, pulling you up onto the bed before pushing your back against the mattress.

His hands were rough as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open once more. His cock was still hard, still thick, still glistening from your mouth, and he smirked as he rubbed the tip against your soaked entrance.

“You did so well for me, baby,” he murmured, teasing you, pressing just the head inside before pulling back. “But we’re not done yet.”

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing slow, torturous circles as he grinned down at you.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Yunho hovered over you, his large hands spreading your thighs wide, his body radiating warmth as he settled between them. His cock was thick and hard, the head already pressing gently against your entrance, teasing, testing.

His eyes were dark with restraint, his breathing heavy as he ran his hands up your sides, smoothing over your ribs, your stomach, before cupping your jaw with a gentleness that had your heart skipping. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, voice softer now, coaxing. “Gonna take my time with you.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, swallowing your nervous breath before slowly, slowly pushing inside.

The stretch was instant, overwhelming, burning and pleasurable all at once. Your fingers dug into his biceps, nails pressing into the thick veins running along his forearms as he worked himself deeper, stopping every few inches to let you adjust.

“Shh, I got you,” he soothed, lips brushing over your temple, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was a quiet hum of restraint, but his cock was throbbing inside you, twitching like he was holding himself back from burying himself to the hilt.

But then you gasped, body trembling as he pushed a little more, and Yunho froze, groaning as he realized—you still couldn’t even take half of him.

He pulled back just enough to watch, his gaze dark, hungry, as you struggled to take him. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

His thumb traced over your clit—soft, teasing, not nearly enough. "Look at you," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "Can’t even take half, huh? So damn tight… but don’t worry, baby—" his smirk deepened as he pressed in just a little more— "we’ll fix that."

You whimpered, thighs twitching as he pulled out just a bit, rubbing the thick head against your soaked entrance before pushing back in, just a little deeper this time. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled, his voice like warm honey laced with sin. “I’m gonna make it fit.”

His lips found yours, kissing you slow, deep, as he rolled his hips, easing himself deeper, inch by inch. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, teasing your nipples, rubbing slow circles into your thigh. Every movement was designed to coax you open, to make you crave more.

The burn turned into pleasure, the ache shifting into something dangerously addictive. Yunho groaned when you finally relaxed around him, his cock sinking deeper, his restraint thinning as your walls clenched around him, sucking him in.

But just as he found his rhythm, just as he was kissing you slow, touching you sweetly— you decided to push him.

Your lips curled into the smallest, brattiest smirk, and you clenched down tight around him, rolling your hips up just slightly, even though it had you gasping from the intense stretch.

Yunho froze.

His breath stuttered, his muscles tensing beneath your hands. For a long second, he didn’t move. Just stared down at you, the flickering candlelight catching the veins on his arms, his neck, his cock buried deep inside you.

And then he let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “Oh, you wanna play dirty, huh?” His voice was different now—darker, deeper, rougher.

His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumbs pressing into your skin, and then, with zero warning, he snapped his hips forward, slamming himself deeper, forcing you to take all of him.

A strangled moan ripped from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure hit you like a fucking freight train.

“Thought you were struggling a second ago,” Yunho gritted out, his voice thick with amusement. His hands slid up your stomach, his fingertips brushing over your nipples, tweaking, teasing. “But now you’re acting like a little brat.”

He pulled out just enough before slamming back in, his restraint snapping thread by thread as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

"You want it rough, baby?" Yunho’s voice was a low growl, his teeth grazing your jaw—dangerously close to sinking in. His grip tightened, holding you in place as he rolled his hips, pushing deeper, stretching you open inch by inch.

"That’s it… take it," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His cock dragged against your walls, thick, unrelenting, before he pulled back just enough to make you whimper.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart…" His smirk was pure sin as he thrust in again, slow but firm. "Daddy's gonna take care of you, make you feel so full.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer.

Yunho’s hips slammed into yours, fucking you deep, hard, relentless—his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head as his mouth found your breasts, biting, marking you everywhere.

His control was gone.

And you?

You had asked for this. Yunho had snapped.

The second you clenched around him—tight, desperate, involuntary—he lost every ounce of restraint.

His large hands gripped your thighs, forcing them even wider as he sank deeper, inch by devastating inch. You were so small compared to him, and fuck, the way your body struggled to take him made him groan deep in his chest.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice dark, rough with restraint. “So fucking tight—” He rolled his hips forward, pressing even deeper, making sure you felt every single inch of him. “Your little pussy wasn’t made for something this big, was it?”

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto his strong, veined forearms like they were your only anchor. The stretch was intense, burning, dizzying, but it was so good. You didn’t even realize you were whimpering, trembling beneath him.

“Poor baby,” he cooed, his huge hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your parted lips. “Barely able to take me… but still trying to act like a little brat?”

You whimpered, your body tightening around him again, and Yunho groaned, jaw clenching as his cock throbbed inside you.

“Shit—” His grip tightened, veins bulging beneath his tan skin, muscles flexing as he held himself back. You were too fucking tight. Too untouched, unclaimed— and that only made his control slip even more.

He nudged against your cervix, the pressure sending a sharp wave of pleasure-pain through you, and you gasped, back arching beneath him.

And Yunho? He felt it. Every little clench, every tiny tremor. And it was driving him fucking crazy.

Your moan was helpless, needy, completely wrecked.

Yunho groaned again, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck—you’re sucking me in so tight.”

And then—you did it again.

Clenching around him, squeezing down, teasing, despite the fact that you could barely handle him.

His hands slid up your stomach, teasing, slow, fingertips brushing over your breasts before wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him.

“You gonna cry for me, baby?” he murmured, mocking, teasing. “Can’t handle how deep Daddy is?”

The title sent another sharp pulse through your core, and Yunho felt it immediately.

His jaw clenched, his thick cock twitching inside you. “Oh, fuck–, you like that?” His fingers tightened slightly around your throat, just enough to make your breath stutter. “Like having my cock stretch you open? Like knowing I’m the first—the only—man who’ll ever break you in?”

You whimpered, head spinning, drowning in the filth of it all.

Then, with one smooth, effortless motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his strong hands pressing into your back, keeping you pinned.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he rasped, voice rough, desperate, on the edge of losing it completely. “Wanted to be fucked properly?”

He pulled out just to slam back in, forcing you to take him deeper than ever, stretching you in ways you never thought possible.

Your moan was wrecked, broken, completely fucked-out.

“That’s it,” Yunho groaned, snapping his hips forward, his thick cock pressing against the deepest part of you. “Take it, baby. Take all of it.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you with long, deep strokes, each one knocking the air from your lungs.

With one hand, he gripped your waist, lifting it slightly as he rolled his hips into you, the sensation of him pressing against you was intoxicating. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deliberate and deep, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you.

His other hand traveled down your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin before finding your clit. The moment he began to rub slow, teasing circles, you gasped, your body responding instinctively.

“Y-Yunho,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched by him and the pleasure building within you.

“Just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You can take it.”

You could feel the pressure building, both from his relentless thrusting and his skilled fingers working over your clit, drawing you closer to the edge. The combination was too much, and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks as he held you down, completely at his mercy.

“That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. “You’re doing so well for me.”

As his fingers worked faster, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the overwhelming pleasure washing over you in intoxicating waves.

Yunho's fingers moved skillfully over your clit, the pressure inside you began to build, overwhelming your senses. Each thrust of his hips was deep and relentless, pushing you closer to an edge you had never known before.

“Oh, god,” you gasped, feeling the tight coil of pleasure tighten in your core. It was building, growing more intense with each movement, and you could hardly believe what was happening. This was your first orgasm, and it felt like everything was about to explode.

“Just let go, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging, like a siren calling you closer to the waves. “I know you can do it. You’re so close.”

With one final, deliberate thrust, his fingers increased their pace, and suddenly, the pressure released. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as you felt the orgasm wash through you for the first time. It was intense, all-consuming, and it left you breathless, your vision blurring as you gasped for air.

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, his voice thick with desire. “That’s it. You did so well.”

But he didn’t relent. Instead, he rolled his hips faster and deeper, pushing you through the aftershocks of your release. His grip on your neck was firm but gentle, guiding you as he moved. Each thrust was powerful, hitting a spot inside you that made you moan uncontrollably.

“Feel how good you are for me,” he encouraged, his voice a mixture of roughness and sweetness. “You’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.”

The combination of his praise and the relentless rhythm of his hips sent you spiraling again, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

Then, with a low growl, Yunho shifted his grip, holding you closer, and you could feel the intensity of his own need as he began to fill you up completely. The sensation of him deep inside you was overwhelming, and you could barely contain the pleasure that surged through your body once more.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his breath scorching your skin as he moved against you. “You were made for me, baby. I’m gonna make you remember every inch of me inside you.”

With that, he thrust harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch of him, every thrust, as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies. You were his, completely and utterly, and as he filled you up, you couldn’t help but surrender to the pleasure.

As Yunho continued to thrust into you, the sensations were overwhelming. Each movement was deep and precise, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could barely think straight, lost in the moment—until the sound of his phone ringing broke through the haze.

He paused, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he glanced at the screen. The color drained from his face for a moment, replaced by a smirk. “Just when I thought I had you all to myself,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

With a finger pressed to your lips, he held your gaze. “It’s my daughter,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “And she’s calling. But you’re going to stay quiet while I talk.”

Your heart raced at the implication, the thrill of being caught in such an intimate moment mixed with urgency. He held you in place, his grip on your waist firm as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice shifting to a comforting tone, softly thrusting into you. “Yeah, sorry, the signal here is awful. I’m good, just… busy around the house.”

As he spoke, he kept his pace, slower but no less intense. He kept your hips pinned down, the rhythm of his movements steady. You had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound, the pleasure building within you again.

“I’m with a friend,” he continued, glancing down at you with a wicked smile. “Yeah, she’s fine… watching a movie, just a little preoccupied. ”

The way he emphasized the last word sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you struggled to suppress your moans. Each thrust drew you closer to the edge, and the combination of his words and movements was driving you wild. The feeling of being so vulnerable and exposed, yet entirely under his control, sent shivers down your spine.

Yunho leaned down closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he continued to talk. “I’ll call you back in a bit, okay? Just need to take care of something,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. “Love you.”

As he ended the call, his eyes locked onto yours and how you looked over your shoulder at him, the teasing glint in them igniting a fire in your belly. “You did so well, baby,” he said, breathless.

With that, he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more demanding and urgent as you struggled to hold back the sounds threatening to escape. You could feel the pressure building within you, every deep thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you. The thrill of being caught, mixed with the electric tension in the air, had you teetering on the edge of another release.

“Isn’t this fun?” he teased, his voice low and gravelly. “You, here, all mine.. taking my cock so well, while my daughter thinks I’m just busy with a friend. How naughty of you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the thrill of being in this secret, intimate space where nothing else mattered but the two of you. You wanted to respond, to beg him for more, but he held you firmly, the weight of his body pressing you down into the mattress.

“Can you keep quiet for me?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin. “I want to hear you hold back, feel you tighten around me.”

You nodded, the pressure of his hips against yours nearly overwhelming. It was all you could do to keep quiet as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body responding instinctively to his every thrust.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”

But as he spoke, he slowed his movements, teasing you, drawing it out. His fingers grazed your waist, the sensation both grounding and electrifying. You could feel him hovering over you, the heat radiating from his body as he watched your every reaction.

“"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rich with lust, laced with something almost reverent. His grip tightened as he rolled his hips, slow, deliberate. "You’re already so close… I can feel it—the way you're gripping me, holding me so tight."

You wanted to respond, to tell him just how close you were, but you knew you had to hold back. The thrill of the moment only intensified the pleasure, and with each deliberate thrust, he was pushing you to your limits.

“Let’s see how long you can take it,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips as he began to pick up the pace again, harder and deeper.

Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, and you could feel your resolve weakening. The mix of desire and restraint was intoxicating, and with each movement, he drew you closer to that blissful edge once more.

“You’re doing so, so well, baby…” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise. “You can do it, baby. Just keep quiet for me, mm?”

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips, pushed you further toward the edge, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped your lips. Yunho’s eyes darkened with desire, and you knew he could feel how close you were.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided playfully. “No sounds. You promised.”

With that, he thrust deeper, his movements becoming more frantic, the urgency building between you as he closed in on his own release. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and you knew you were both reaching that point of no return.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he whispered sweet praises in your ear. “You’re incredible, baby. Taking my cock so, so well…”

Your body responded to him instinctively, tightening around him as if begging for release. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you in this moment, lost in each other.

“Can you feel that?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You’re driving me wild. I’m not stopping until we both finish..”

With renewed vigor, he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into you with a delicious intensity. The sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room, echoing the rhythm of your bodies intertwined.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you come around me. Show me how good you are.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Whatever restraint you had within you to not make a sound, to not cum and scream, it shattered. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You gasped, moans and whimpers escaping your rapidly rising chest, your body shaking as you surrendered to the bliss of your orgasm, the world around you blurring into nothing.

Yunho’s thrusts didn’t relent; instead, he chased his own orgasm, driving deeper into you, and the sensation pushed you even higher. “That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he growled, his voice a mix of pleasure and need.

As your body pulsed around him, you felt him tighten his grip on you, a low growl escaping his lips as he finally lost himself in you. His cum filled you completely, the sensation igniting a final spark of pleasure that sent shivers through your entire being.

In those moments, as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together, the world outside faded away completely. It was just you and him, tangled in each other, both left breathless and completely satisfied.

As you lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, Yunho brushed his fingers softly over your back, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You did amazing,” he said, his voice tender and filled with warmth. “I knew you were special.”

You looked up at him, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest, and with a teasing smile, you whispered, “this is going to be a looong summer…” and a chuckle followed, Yunho smiling at you.

“Yeah, indeed-” he paused for a second, a thought running through his mind. “Ah, I completely forgot.. my daughter is not going to be home for a whooole week, sweetie. She has some sort of trip with his boyfriend's family.. I don't know. How do you feel about that, hm?” he wrapped you in his embrace, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I- oh.” you managed to mumble, puppy-like eyes looking up at him, eagerly waiting for that week to come as he smiled at you.

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet @mirohs-aurora-society

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @strawberry-mingi @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @tahiraax1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou @lezleeferguson-120 @sopematesxx

[hellishjoel]

wild like the west

3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!

It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will. 

Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes. 

Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.

He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow.  It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods. 

Life guided him up here and he never turned back. 

You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt. 

“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.

You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys. 

“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction. 

“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction. 

“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight. 

His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”

A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence. 

“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.

“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job. 

The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go. 

The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps. 

“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?” 

“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps. 

“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in. 

“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly. 

All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ‘pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”

Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you. 

The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo. 

Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes. 

“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”

Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew. 

The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together. 

“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still. 

He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.” 

So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here. 

“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”

Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up. 

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side. 

“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.” 

“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”

Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut. 

He settles on the truth. 

“We are sleepin’ together.” 

Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.” 

Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”

You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley. 

Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.

But he can’t deny that this life was made for him. 

Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams. 

The ranch was his dream.

He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors. 

Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning. 

Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.  

Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body. 

But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions. 

Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine. 

The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed. 

He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse. 

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 

Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles. 

“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles. 

“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely. 

He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind. 

You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses. 

Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties. 

“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours. 

“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed. 

“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.” 

Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix. 

Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own. 

“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center. 

You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.

You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now. 

The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl. 

“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders. 

Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him. 

“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach. 

“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you. 

Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels. 

“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge. 

Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him. 

What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?

Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit. 

Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.

“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room. 

“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock. 

 “Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”

And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on. 

And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one. 

Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more. 

“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.

Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish. 

Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight. 

“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on. 

The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute. 

“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes. 

“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth. 

Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.

“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”

You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump. 

Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout. 

“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest. 

“G’night, pain in my ass.” 

main masterlist | notifications blog

[queers-gambit]

Endure and Survive

prompt: ( x4 ? requested ) you need Joel to survive after enduring the unimaginable.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader -> only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 12k+

warnings: obvious spoilers, S2E2 reader insert, Fix It Joel, Joel Miller survives / lives, AU timeline, cursing, mentions blood and injury, guns, dead bodies, parentified!reader, wife!reader, found family obviously - Ellie calls you 'mom'. mentions of explicit material: marijuana / weed, the horses have names idc, established relationship, angst, hurt / comfort, drama, depiction of anxiety and panic attacks, not edited, Lord's name in vain, single Spanish word. imagination, caution, and maturity required. happy but abrupt ending, possible (past) morally grey!reader, petnames.

You woke earlier than your husband as usual, humming in the first streaks of morning light; stretching minimally as to not wake the man beside you, whose bare legs were tangled with yours. However, try as you might, the arm coiled around your waist constricted to a bruising strength; which caused your lips to stretch in a bemused grin.

"Sun ain't up," his gruff, gravely voice grated in your ear.

"Mh," you hummed, "but it is."

"Not if you shut your eyes."

"Still work that needs done."

"C'mon, baby, can spare another hour."

With a sigh, you laid your arm over his, "You know today's not the day for delay." He huffed, knowing you were right. "You know," you turned over in his embrace to greet the lightly tanned face aged with freckles and faint liver spots, decorated with few scars, "should ask Ellie t'go on patrol with you this mornin'."

"Baby."

"Joel."

"She's... Still a bit pissed."

"Okay, but what teenage daughter isn't?" You snickered.

"She ain't mad at you."

"'Cause I let her fight her own battles."

"Oh, so, now it's my fault for wantin' to protect her?"

"I didn't say that," you sighed with a patient smile. "But Ellie's not that vulnerable, green 14-year-old we met in Boston, baby. And... Look, I'm not saying Seth ain't deserve it, but they were walking away. You and I could've gone a different route, you know?"

"As her parents - "

"It's our right to protect our kid," you insisted. "But consider the circumstances, I think you embarrassed her a little."

"How?" You just offered him a knowing look, making Joel groan, "Fine, all right? Fine, I know, it was public - "

"So very public."

"And she was gonna say her own piece... But if not then, when the fuck am I supposed to step in? What he said was homophobic, doll, if we let him get away with it, would've opened the door for him or anyone else to run their mouth."

"We beat the shit outta him in an alley, of course. Or, you know, maaaybe we go out on patrol together and maaaybe they don't come back?"

"Yeah, yeah," he groaned, "but I ain't think."

"That's one thing I love about you - you act first. It's very noble, like you just have this inherent sense of right and wrong. Never really need time to think."

Joel chuckled, "It's too early for the sweet talk."

"It's never too early - especially when you're protectin' our girl. It's hot..."

"You just said - "

"I never said you were wrong, I'm just trying to take Ellie's perspective into account. Look, she's at that age where life feels invincible, where she's been through more than we can truly fathom - so, she feels twice the age she really is. But she's still young, still a trigger-happy-moron and will never stop needing her parents. She just wants to feel like she's a bit of independence, like we trust her to fight her own battles and handle her own shit. I think we're supposed to just... I don't know, keep watch and jump in if she can't handle it. You know? But we gotta give her the opportunity to do it on her own in the first place."

Joel offered you a side-ways glance, "You been talkin' to Gail?"

"Fuck off," you snickered, trying to sit up but being wrangled back into the sheets. "Joel," you laughed, "we gotta get gone. C'mon, you heard what happened last night - "

"Just ten more minutes, baby, please."

"You really wanna risk Maria siccing Benji on us again? I'm pretty sure we traumatized him last time, Maria said he kept asking if that's where babies come from."

You swore his cheeks bloomed brightly, but it was quickly hidden as his face shoved into your neck with a gruff sort of whimper. "Guess not..."

Taking pity, your hands shot into his salty locks to rake your nails over his scalp soothingly. "Ten minutes, handsome, then I gotta get to the stable."

Ten minutes with Joel turned into 30 easily, but it was worth the reprimand from Maria just to be able to get extra time in his arms and peacefully have coffee together before a long day. She asked you to send Ellie to her before she left on patrol, then requested you go with her - if only for your own peace of mind, knowing she's safe. After the previous night's report of a horde of Infected lying in wait under the snow and about 30 other frozen Infected used as insulation, she felt better sending you with the two young adults.

However, during your morning chores in the stables, you were surprised to see Joel, Dina, and Jesse enter together; asking for their usual mounts as the young man leaned on the stall beside you.

You shot Joel an annoyed look, but he just sighed, "I wanted t'go with her, baby, swear; but Ellie had a long night, you know? Should let her sleep a bit."

"Joel."

"It's all right, Dina said she'd go instead."

Your head shook, "Fine, but we're having family dinner tonight - no exceptions. Y'all gotta talk this shit out, okay? The tension's drivin' me insane."

"Me too," Dina quipped with a small smirk.

"Me three," Jesse chimed in, snickering when you and Joel pinned him with looks; only yours was out of amusement and his, out of annoyance.

"Family dinner, kid," he repeated.

You chuckled with Jesse and Dina, asking the young man, "Whatcha need, bud? You goin' with them, too? We sending trios now?"

"Nah, Maria said I'm going with you and Ellie," Jesse informed, and only Dina clocked the way Joel's shoulders released from the perpetual tension they were haunched in.

"Yeah, all right, cool," you agreed with a small sniffle. "Lemme get these two up and out - I'll get our horses after."

"Baby," Joel stepped up, "let Ellie sleep a bit more."

"We'll have her up for 8 o'clock patrol," you nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist to hang off his form and for hands to squeeze your hips. "Now, what're y'all gonna do?"

"Radio in."

"How often?"

"Every 20 minutes, doll."

"And?"

"Stay safe."

"And?"

"Don't be reckless."

"And?"

"Am I forgettin' one of your rules?"

"Mhm, I literally just said it - "

"Oh! I know, I know!" Dina waved her hand in the air, grinning, "Be home in time for family dinner!"

"That's my smart girl," you praised, making the girl preen with pride.

Joel chuckled, "Yeah, sugar, we'll be back in time. Channel 7 for us, right?"

"Exactly," you breathed, sudden nerves spiking to make your face fall as your eyes swept over his face. "Listen to me, don't play hero, Joel, y'all are just scoutin' the area, all right? You get the fuck outta there if something's up, don't try t'fight."

"I know, honey."

"And bring my Dina home in one piece, please. Preferably, fully thawed and unscathed."

Joel smirked, "Always do. You stay safe, too, baby. Hey - keep an eye on my wife, kid," he directed at Jesse.

"She's the one with a quick drawl, usually saves my ass," he mused.

"Then don't need saving," Joel warned in a growl.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, that's enough," with a chuckle, you patted Joel's waist and released him. In an effort to help you all identify one another when out there, you informed, "Dina, you're on Butterscotch, Joel, I got you on Cooper. Jesse, you're gonna be on Dewey, I'll put Ellie on Bean, and I'm taking Luxor."

Dina smiled as she approached her horse, "Thanks, Y/N. We'll be back soon."

"Yeah, I'll grab Ellie and meet you at the gate," Jesse agreed.

"Oh, uh, Maria wants a word before we go - so, can you make sure Ellie sees her?"

"Yes, ma'am. Where at?"

"Uh, probably the cantina - Tommy's gonna address the people, she'll be there with Benji."

"Right. On it," he offered you his fist to bump before heading out of the stable to do whatever he needed prior to patrol.

"Hey," Joel muttered, earning your attention, "you look worried. You good, baby?"

"Yeah, just... Something in the air, I guess." You glanced at Dina a few stalls up, lowering your voice, "It's remindin' me of KC, you know? Them fuckers lying in wait underground?"

"I know, baby, me too."

"And after Ellie's report, sounds like they're evolvin'. Joel, just... Be careful out there, all right? Don't take any chances, please, and just - look, I know you're not one to run from danger, but things are different now. You don't always gotta be so brave and tough, sometimes it's for the greater good to just run."

"I'll keep Dina safe, we won't take no risks, sweetheart. Promise."

"Good," you sighed. "C'mere, besos, please."

"Lessons with Tommy payin' off, I see," he grinned with pride. "Love hearin' you talk like that, baby, does somethin' t'me."

"I know, that's why I'm learnin'," you whispered, lifting to your toes in order to press a kiss to his lips. "Love you, handsome."

"Hm," he kept you close, stealing another kiss, "love you more, sweetheart. You be careful, too. We got dinner plans."

"Exactly. Now, go on, get gone, the sooner y'all head out, sooner you'll be back, right?"

"In theory."

"Make it in practice," you snipped, smirking into one final kiss. Joel sighed and released you, turning to grab Cooper. You left Luxor on cross ties to walk the pair to the front gate; hand laced tightly with Joel's as the three of you made mindless conversation about whatever you planned for dinner. You gave Dina a leg-up into her saddle, bidding, "Stay safe, kid."

"Always am," she smiled.

"Fuckin' liar, just listen to Joel, please, c'mon," you snorted, making her laugh as you turned for your husband.

"I'll see you soon," he assured, pecking your lips before hauling himself to Cooper's saddle. You frowned and kept pace with his side, calling for the gates to open. "Love you, baby," Joel hushed as he nudged his horse forward.

"Love you," you called, keeping the nerves out of your tone; watching them through the gate as the air turned poignant. You couldn't pin point it, but something felt... Strange. Off. Odd. Unsure and disproportionate. You heard the gate guards announce their departure, watching them for only a few moments before gesturing for the door to close up.

You missed the way Joel turned in the saddle to catch the last fleeting glimpse of you before the wood cut off all sight. Dina smirked, "Dude, you're whipped."

"Got a lady like mine, you would be, too. Now, c'mon."

Ellie pinned you with an unamused glare as she and Jesse approached about an hour later, taking hold of Bean's reins while snipping, "Really? You tell Seth to fucking apologize?"

"What's that?" You blinked.

"You said Maria wanted to talk to me - it was so Seth could apologize or whatever."

"Oh. Hm..."

"You didn't know?"

"Nah, kid, Maria just told me she wanted a word before we left," you informed, letting Jesse take the reins of his horse, Dewey. "I've learned my lesson 'bout askin' stupid questions. Usually, questionin' Maria is stupid."

"Right," she sighed, watching you from her own saddle as you mounted Luxor. The three of you moved together out of Jackson's gates, hearing the guards announce the departure, and venturing into the vast, open nothingness. Ellie eyed the grey skies wearily, asking you, "Are we worrying about that?"

"Nah, should just be up in the mountains," Jesse answered for the both of you - but for an unshakeable reason, you couldn't agree.

"Fucking hope so," Ellie mused. "Ten seconds in, I already can't feel my ass."

"You get some breakfast, babe?" You asked, eyeing Ellie.

"Huh? Oh, uh, no, but I'm all right."

"Fuck that," you sighed, reaching for the saddle bag. "Here, I got, uh... It ain't much, but eggs are good protein."

"Oh..." Ellie accepted the two hard boiled eggs you produced; unwrapping the cling wrap to hand back. Supplies were few and far between, everyone saving whatever material they could for repeat use after cleaning it. "Thanks, Y/N." You nodded, nudging Luxor into a trot. "Hey, uh... You let Joel and Dina go alone?"

"'Let'?" You snorted, "C'mon, honey, you know either of them to do anything I say?"

"Joel, yes... Dina... Not so much."

You and Jesse chuckled, turning off towards Cottonwood as a harsh, bitter wind swept over the three of you. It felt like the hand of Death; doing what you could to ignore your anxiety.

Amy's radio transmission barely reached you as the blizzard had rolled over the town you trotted through. She called for all patrols to return to Jackson, but the wind, snow, and frigid temperatures prevented your escape; already a couple hours from home base. Naturally, you were the decision maker and informed Amy you'd shelter in place until the worst of the storm had passed, leading Jesse and Ellie towards one of the cleared-out garages you knew of in the ghost town.

The horses were left with a supply of hay, knowing they needed rest and fed before attempting to brave the weather back to Jackson. You were familiar with this particular area after clearing and securing it just that past fall with Jesse, the two youngsters following you at a jog for the usual convenience store patrol members had commandeered. You yanked the door open, met with the sweeping smell of stale weed and seeping snow; panting as you slammed the door and dropped your pack almost instantly.

"You good? You all right?" You checked the kids, watching Jesse nod as Ellie was stalking around the rows of growing marijuana plants.

"Am I fucking hallucinating?" She asked gleefully.

"Maybe. Do you see a 7-Eleven full of weed?" Jesse mused, trailing after you towards the radio.

"Yep."

"Then no," he sighed, kneeling before the wood stove. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah, honey?" You asked, turning the radio dial with a single headphone pressed to your ear.

"Whatchu want me to do 'bout this?"

Glancing over, you tried to wrack your memory, "Nothin' viable in there?"

"Some but not much."

"Try to light what you can," you nodded. "There's spare wood in the back. With luck, it's still dry."

"All right, yeah," he panted, the cold blistering as it seeped into all bones and cracked drying skin.

"How'd you know about this place?" Ellie wondered, still admiring the stoner's paradise.

"Eugene," Jesse answered with an undertone of remorse. Ellie's face fell, recognizing the name from the many times Dina had mentioned the old man. "He was my first patrol partner. One day, he showed it to me, said he found it a year earlier when he was on a solo patrol. Swore me to secrecy. Said Maria wouldn't be supportive of his, uh, farming."

"What about you, Y/N?"

You just shrugged, "I know everything, kid. Was a young thing in the '90s, I know what's up."

Jesse snickered as Ellie went quiet; making the lad look up in curiosity only to spy her at a spare table, examining an old medallion similar to a dogtag. He asked, "You okay?"

She paused, then breathing, "Yeah."

"Y/N, you got a lighter?"

"Uh, should be one or eight around here, kid," you answered, still receiving only static over the radio.

"Right," he sniffled, rummaging around to locate one with enough lighter fluid.

He got the fire going at last as Ellie questioned, "Eugene was a Firefly?"

"Yup. Just early on, though."

"Served with Tommy," you piped up, sparing a small glance and a smirk over your shoulder before refocusing.

"He quit back in 2010," Jesse continued.

"How come?"

"He said he was tired of killing people. I think he was in Vietnam."

"Oh."

Jesse grabbed a spare blanket, handing it to Ellie and nodding at you while taking a seat before the stove. She stood from where she'd sat on the side of a cot, unwrapping the wool to drape around your shoulders for you. "Thanks, baby girl," you muttered, barely aware of the added warmth.

"Come sit by the fire," she mumbled, squeezing your shoulders before returning to her seat.

It was quiet, the two sat in contemplation. Jesse spoke with bitterness over the haunting memory, "That was a raw deal. Joel having to put Eugene down..."

"Hey," you snapped, looking at him with a fierce side-eye. "Know y'all were friends, but Joel ain't do nothin' but deliver mercy. Eugene had a fuckin' stroke, wasn't easy for anyone involved."

Jesse nodded in agreement, "Just a fuckin' shame. Guy makes it through a war, end up goin' out like that." He sighed, "What are you gonna do? Like Y/N said, couldn't be saved."

"Yeah," Ellie breathed. "Hey, Y/N? ... Y/N? ... Y/N!"

"I got it, I got it!" You cried, radio clearing for a moment. You grabbed the CB, "Joel? Joel? Come in, Joel!" You waited a moment, sliding the headphones over your ears, readjusting on your knees and trying to dial the signal into anything stronger. "Joel, come in! C'mon, baby, answer the fucking radio!" But you only earned more static. "God fuckin' damnit! Told him to check in with me on channel 7 - right, Jesse?"

"Yeah, right, every 20 minutes, ma'am," he shared a nervous look with Ellie. "Look, I'm sure they're doin' the same - sheltering in place - "

"Joel!" You tried again, growling in frustration, "This fucking storm, man, I can't get through - it's all fucking static. Joel! C'mon, come in! Joel, Dina? Hey! Someone fucking answer me! Please!" But there was no answer. "Fuck!" Your fist banged on the bulky machine.

"Try Jackson, we might be in range," advised Ellie, the cold seeping into her lungs to make her voice quake.

You sighed, changing the channel and trying again, "Jackson, come in, Jackson. This is Cottonwood, come in... Tommy? Hey, come in, Jackson! This is Cottonwood... Amy! Amy, can you hear me? Over."

"Think we're gonna be here a while," Ellie mused to Jesse.

"Yeah. Hey, Y/N. C'mon, come get warm - leave the channel open, they'll radio in when they can."

But you were switching back to channel 7, "Joel? Hey, come in Copper Mine, this is Cottonwood. Someone fucking answer me! Joel! Dina! Come in! C'mon, I need to know y'all are okay! Come in, Copper Mine! This is Cottonwood..." But the static mocked you. "Joel, it's Y/N, please, fucking answer! Come in! Joel, please! Over..." You switched back to Jackson's channel, "Jackson, this is Cottonwood. Please, someone, come in! I-I can't get ahold of Copper Mine, please, come in... Amy, Tommy, I can't get ahold of Joel, come in! This is Cottonwood, we're sheltering in place - please, answer! Over..." This continued for another hour before you were gritting your teeth and leaving the channel open, still dialing, calling over the waves every so often - hoping someone, even another patrol group, would check in. But the wind and snow fucked everyone's radio transmission.

Ellie leaned over to Jesse, muttering, "Should we pack her a bowl? Sounds like she needs it."

Jesse snickered and nudged her shoulder, Ellie grinning as she stood to begin snooping; leaving the lad to stretch out on the cot. He watched you for a little bit before slowly shutting his eyes as the wood stove soon warmed them.

"Jesse," a muffled voice leered.

"What?"

"Check it," Ellie encouraged. When you looked up from your place by the stove, finally taking refuge by the heat, you discovered Ellie wearing a refurbished gas mask with a bong attached to the mouth piece.

You couldn't help the bark of laughter, shaking your head as Jesse scoffed and looked away from the sight.

Ellie giggled, yanking the mask off, "Did he make this?"

"Yeah."

"I'm taking this with me."

"Uh, no, ma'am, you're not," your smile dropped.

"Oh, c'mon," Ellie whined.

"Listen to your mom, kid," Jesse leered in a bored tone. "You're not taking that."

Instead of correcting him that you weren't her mother (by birth), she just sighed, "Yes, I am. And as much weed as I can shove into my pack."

"Ellie," you scolded.

"You said yourself, you did this shit in the '90s."

Your eyes rolled, "It was a different time."

"I'm still taking it, if the apocalypse isn't the time to get high, I don't know when is."

"Nope," Jesse now chimed, "leave it, Ellie."

"Dude, you're gonna be in charge of Jackson one day, we all know - but that day has not yet come."

"Y/N has superiority, she said - "

But Jesse cut himself off when the radio finally fucking came to life, the static clear - but Amy's voice cutting in and out as she tried to reach your party. He watched as you scrambled to your feet, leaving the wool blanket in place on the floor, and rushed to drop before the machine; knees nearly cracking from the impact.

"Repeat, Jackson?" You called over the CB; trying to carefully enhance the signal.

"Copper Mine, do you copy?"

"Hey! Hey! This is Y/N, you're barely there... Amy? Do you copy? This is Cottonwood. Over."

You waited only a moment, finding a sweet spot to hear the distorted reply, "Y/N, have - Joel or Dina?"

"Repeat? Jackson, come in, you're breaking up! Repeat last message!" You turned the dial with tears slowly gathering out of pure nerves and anxiety.

"Have - heard - Joel or Dina?"

You pieced the message together, nervously replying as Ellie slowly approached your shoulder, "No, why?"

"They haven't checked in," Amy answered. "Are - you - Copper Mine?"

"Fuck," Ellie hissed over your shoulder.

"Amy, repeat?" You pleaded. "Amy!" But the static was back. "Amy, come back!" You released the transmission to growl, "Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck!" Trying again, you begged, "Amy!"

But there was no answer, making you climb to your feet. "Woah, hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Jesse yelped as you snatched your pack from the ground and rushed around the hideout. Ellie was on your tail.

"We're not far from Copper Mine, let's fucking go! We can't leave them out there like this! C'mon!" You barked, hearing him sigh and follow swiftly without protest. Ellie and Jesse followed you out the door, sprinting towards the garage and yanking the nearly iced-closed door up.

"Y/N, hang on a second - "

You snarled, "Fuck that! My husband's out there, Jesse, I'm goin' after them! We don't know how far they got, but they're not back home and they're not radioing in!"

"I know," he agreed as you and Ellie reached for your horses. "Look, the route's an oval around the mine. We gotta split up and come at it from both sides. Northwest and northeast. You two go together, we meet up in the middle."

"We'll take northeast," Ellie agreed, trio leading the horses towards the open door. "How much time do you think we have?"

"Go, c'mon," you directed them, Luxor trained enough to stand as you gave Ellie a leg-up. Jesse was mounting on his own as you answered her question, "If the wind holds steady, maybe 20 minutes."

"You gotta get to the mine by then," Jesse picked up, his authority ringing clear, "Ellie, Y/N, whether you find them or not."

"Yeah, you fucking too, Jesse," Ellie snarled, spurring her horse into the blizzard.

"Go! And be careful!" You demanded, smacking Dewey on the flank to send him and Jesse into the storm. You paused only to pull the garage door back down, Luxor already walking forward; making you jog to keep pace and hop to catch the stirrup. He was breaking into a canter by the time you were seated, spurring the ebony mount after Ellie and Bean as Jesse was cutting to the side.

"Y/N!" Ellie hollered over the wind.

"I'm right here, baby!" You cried, eyes squinted in the stinging, whipping, frigid air. "Don't stop, don't stop, I'm here, just go! C'mon! Stay with me, Ellie! C'mon, cut this way!" You directed Luxor, hearing Bean change direction after you. "We don't stop!" After several minutes, you checked, "Baby girl? You still with me?"

"I'm here!" She called from behind you.

"Keep going!"

"Y/N! The fucking snow - it's too thick! I can't see shit!"

"Don't fucking stop, we'll make it! Just stay with me, baby, c'mon, let's go! We're all right, we gotta make it!" By a stroke of pure luck, you heard a chatter over your radio. "HOLD!" You cried to Ellie, Luxor whinnying in protest as you skidded to a slippery halt; wrangling your hand radio from your belt. In time, you heard Joel, "Y/N? Y/N, come in! C'mon, baby, fucking answer me!"

"Joel!?"

"Y/N!"

"Joel, Joel, I-I copy! I copy!"

"Good t'hear your voice, baby."

"Where the fuck are you!?" You cried, Ellie looking relieved for a split moment before light static was heard instead of his deep, Southern accent. Yet... Something told you this wasn't just silence, but something else. Something worrisome. "Joel? Joel! No, no, no, come back! Joel! Answer me! JOEL!"

"The storm!" Ellie reminded.

"It's not the fucking storm," you panted, confusion marring your usually pleasant expression. You tried again, "Joel, come in! Do you copy!? Joel, please! Baby, fucking ANSWER me!"

Unknown to you, Joel heard your desperate pleas but couldn't answer as Abby and her mini militia had taken a frostbitten Dina hostage; gun to her temple, semi-automatic pointed at him in threat.

"Joel, where are you? Where are you, Joel, fucking come in!" You begged, shaking your head at Ellie as the silence was deafening; own automatic rifle suddenly burning into where it was latched to your saddle, pressing to your thigh. "Fuck! We keep moving - "

"Where?"

"North, c'mon, there's better signal outta the fucking trees. Let's go, baby, keep up!"

"Go! I'm right behind you!"

As a last ditch effort, you held the reins in one hand as the other radioed, "Joel, where the fuck are you!? Please!" You prayed the further north you got, the better signal. "Come in! Baby, please, please, we're fucking worried! Come in, please! JOEL! For fuck's sake!" No response, but you found something in the snow... Tracks. "Ellie! Ellie, follow the tracks - don't lose 'em! They're still fresh!"

You galloped forward, still trying in vain to reach Joel; who was wailing in pain as Abby bludgeoned his blown-out knee to the sounds of your frantic cries of his name. It was almost as if you could sense what was happening, wanting to be there with him in his end Abby promised to bring.

"Y/N, LOOK!" Ellie called, pulling her horse to a rearing-halt, eyes in the distance from mid-hill you climbed. "FUCKING STOP AND LOOK!"

"Ellie, we don't got time! The snow's gonna cover - "

"LOOK!"

You yanked Luxor to another halt, whipping him around towards Ellie - but seeing where she pointed. Through the valley, you could make out the sight of Jackson from miles away, mouth agape to gasp, "Oh, my fucking God."

"What the hell is that?"

You blinked back tears, "J-Jackson. Fuck, the Infected, they must've found 'em."

"Wh-What do we do? What the hell do we do, Y/N?" You had to think fast, fear seizing hold of your heart. "Do we go back? Or move on?"

You sniffled, "Tommy's got Jackson - that's the fire, see? We... We move on! We find Joel and Dina, these have gotta be their tracks, baby, we're so close now. We can't stop."

"Y/N..."

"You go back if you want! Back to the fucking 7-Eleven, but I'm not leaving without Joel! Are you with me?"

"What if they're not alone?"

"Then I fucking pray for those stupid fucking souls," you snarled, both hoods drawn in the thick, blinding flurries. "Now are you with me, baby girl?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fucking with you. Let's go."

You spurred Luxor around and followed the fading-fast tracks left in the blanket of crunchy snow. After several yards, you called, "C'mon, keep pace with me, Ellie - don't tire them out too bad, we gotta make the trip home!"

"I'm right here!"

Up the hill, you let Luxor and Bean canter at their set, desired pace; taking your own advice not to tire them too greatly. As you got up to a semi-even outcrop, you saw something over the treetops. "Ellie? Ellie, you see that?"

"What the fuck? What's up here?"

"Lodges? Ski resorts?" You guessed, encouraging Luxor faster.

"Y/N, there! There, look!" Ellie gasped, horses snorting with exertion when you halted once more. "Is that...?"

"Cooper and Butterscotch," you breathed. "Joel and Dina must've taken shelter - c'mon!"

"Why're they here? Copper Mine's back down - "

"I don't fucking care why, Ellie, they're here!" Realizing your tone and how it made the nervous girl frown, you apologized, "I-I'm sorry, baby girl, I'm just - I don't know what's going on. Okay? Something ain't right. Now, c'mon, please, Ellie, c'mon." You eyed the building, an old ski lodge some richie-rich must've owned before the Outbreak. "Hey, hey," you hushed, coming to another halt behind the tethered horses, hand held up with warning, "you see anythin'? Any movement?"

"No?"

"The windows, Ellie. C'mon, honey, use them young eyes for me."

She squinted in the sideways snow, but the reflective windows didn't show anything inside, no movement; making her head shake. "N-Nothing, I don't see anything."

"That's not exactly a good thing," you noted. "Dismount, we go on foot."

"What's the plan, Y/N?"

Your boots crunched into the snow, quickly binding Luxor's reins to the broken-down privacy fence surrounding the lodge's perimeter. Your breath came out in a puff of air, telling her as she followed your actions, "We go in smart. Check the first floor, we move up," you unlatched your rifle from the saddle. "We don't know what the fuck's inside. Don't shoot any movement on sight, we don't know where Joel and Dina are."

"Should you try the radio again?"

You gazed up at the windows, something sickly bubbling in your gut, "No... No, we go in - what if... What if?"

"There's Infected? Joel's got it - "

"C'mon," you worried, nodding at her after you, "I'm not willing to fucking wait."

"Right," she hurried after you.

"Quiet, quiet, quiet, shhh-hh-hhhh" you hushed, racking your rifle in favor of your handgun; reaching for the still in-tact door. It opened easily as if recently accessed, Ellie stepping silently inside after you and catching the door before it slammed shut. You nodded in praise, side-stepping over yourself as the ground floor appeared as just abandoned construction.

Ellie grabbed your sleeve, your worried eyes turning to her, but she silently pointed up towards the ceiling. You tuned in, hearing muffled thumping and feeling all air deflate from your pinched lungs. Worried that it wasn't the usual erratic sound of a feasting Infected, thinking it sounded too timed and planned, you looked back to Ellie - intent to whisper a plan - but she was surging ahead of you.

"Ellie! Stay together! Ellie! Don't!" You hissed, huffing as she disappeared around a corner as the sounds of distant screaming seeped from the floor above you. "Fuck's sake. I'm gettin' too old for this fuckin' shit." You peaked around the immediate corners, not finding any signs of life - but flinching when a gunshot echoed in the space around you. Taking cover, you realized the sounds were coming from up the stairs, gasping in worry for your adopted daughter, "Ellie!" To yourself, you hissed, "Fuckin' told you to stay together, fuck!"

The sounds of a squabble grew louder, Ellie's snarls ringing clear as you swiped the safety off. You followed her wet footprints, discovering an open door leading into the lodge's expansive living room - or perhaps, just one of them. You ducked when movement rushed in a flurry, catching sight of Ellie being wrangled to the ground; a stranger kneeling on her back. However, the worst sight was just beyond; before the vast windows showcasing Jackson's demise, one of the unknown forms moved aside to reveal your husband limp on the ground... Bloodied face seemingly staring out at you. His finger twitched, breathing staggered - and when his lips tugged, knew he saw you. Knew you'd always come for him. Even in a fucking blizzard, even when so worryingly outnumbered... But Joel wouldn't bet against you, no matter the circumstance.

He was overturned on his chest, blood pooling under him, immobile from his shattered leg, and there were at least four - no, no, five, you counted five - bodies inside. You barely remembered protocol, feeling something white-hot and feral burst in your chest upon hearing Ellie struggling and crying. Eyes cast back over Joel and you lifted your gun...

"JOEL!" Ellie screamed from the floor, whose fingers twitched with minimal recognition. "Joel! Joel! Joel, get up! Joel, FUCKING GET UP!"

However, one man roared at her, "Stupid fucking bitch!"

"No! No!" Two men struggled inside, distracting the others.

"Fuck you!" The man with a thin upper lip mustache shoved his companion aside. "The bitch fucking cut me!" You smirked in fleeting pride, amusement dropping when he stomped up to Ellie and swiftly kicked her in the ribs; causing her to choke on the air stolen from her lungs. You flinched at the sound of her cracking rib; Joel's eyes locked on you. The stranger lifted his foot again as if to stomp on her, but his friend - with sandy locks - intercepted him and shoved him back several feet. "I'll fucking kill her!"

"She ain't who we want!"

They all - minus Joel - missed the way you silently stepped in. A hunter, a solider, a mother and wife dead set on protecting her loved ones. You aimed at the most obvious threat after a handgun flashed in one of the men's hands as if to aim at Ellie.

You were well-aware of the dire situation but took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, bullet piercing directly through the back of the dark sandy-blonde head; sending a splatter of blood over the ebony haired man's face. "One," you counted.

There was no time as the man looked up at your voice; barrel aimed at him, trigger sounding in a boom. "Two," you counted.

From the shock of your appearance, Ellie managed to wriggle away from woman pinning her to the ground as your sight turned to the other two women across the room. When one lifted from her seat near the fireplace, eyes wide and a plead on her lips, your gun popped off another bullet despite her hands held in defense; catching her in the chest, sending the young girl to her back, choking on her own blood. "Three," you counted.

"MOM!" Ellie screamed, her having been disarmed as the girl with a bald head proved equal strength. Plus, with her ribs, Ellie wasn't much of a fight anyways.

You didn't need to think, gun turning towards her. "Get the fuck off my daughter, bitch," you snarled, the girl with a septum ring's eyes widening at the sight of your angry threat. Another bullet fired, piercing directly between her eyes. "Four," you counted, turning to the last assailant. She was on her feet, handgun pointed at you; but her hands trembled as Ellie scrambled for her gun then found her feet. You sidestepped in front of her, "No, no, all eyes on me. Joel? Joel? Hey, you alive? C'mon! Fuckin' show us you're alive! JOEL! If you're dead, I swear to God - "

He whimpered; relief flooding your system.

"Who the fuck are you?" The girl in a long-sleeve, grey Henley demanded; trying to step around Joel's legs to get a clear shot of Ellie - but you moved with her.

"Aht, aht! Stay right there, don't move." She narrowed her eyes as you asked, "Ellie? With me, baby girl?"

"I'm - I'm here," she wheezed, laying a single hand to your waist.

"You hurt?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Hm," you growled, fingering the trigger.

"I asked, who the fuck are you!?" Abby roared, her desperation making her raw and unpredictable. You didn't want to rock this boat too much, not when the threat to your family was alive and real.

"Lookit, darlin', I don't think you're in the position to ask any questions," you warned. "Now... Step away from him. Nice and slow, please. I'm askin' you nicely - "

"No!" She snarled, gun turning to the back of Joel's head; heart leaping to your throat. "You take one step, either of you make a fucking move, and I'll blow his fucking brains out."

"And I'll blow yours," you warned evenly.

"Doesn't matter," she seethed, "'cause I would've done what I came here to do."

"Oh, yeah? What's that? Kill an old man?"

She chuckled ruefully, "Exactly that."

"You wanna tell me why? C'mon, now. I don't wanna have to shoot you, kid, got a real long life ahead of you." When her hands shook with more definition, you snapped, "Hey! Hey! Eyes on me! Back the fuck away from him right now and maybe I'll let you live."

The room's occupants knew it was a boldfaced lie.

Abby panted, quickly glancing around the dead bodies that fell by your hand; giving you a single moment to note the shattered golf club left to the side of Joel, then to the state of him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to piece together what she'd done. "Y-You killed them," she whispered, glare turned back to you; tears in her eyes, upper lip snarled. "You killed them! Mel wasn't armed and you fucking shot her, you bitch!"

"Bet your ass, I did. Didn't even hesitate, now, did I? Y'all were hurtin' my husband."

"'Husband'?" She repeated, scoffing. "Of fucking course. You're who was on the radio, weren't you?"

"That's right. Now... I'll tell you only one more time. Back. The fuck. Away from him. Now, please, I ain't known for my patience!"

"Just fucking shoot her, Y/N!"

"No, Ellie," you growled, aim narrowing. She sobbed behind you, protected by your body; only able to look between the stranger and her adopted father.

"She did that to Joel! FUCKING LOOK AT HIM!"

"I know, I got eyes t'see, honey, but she's just a kid - like you, Ellie," you didn't shift your gaze from the bitch with a braid; knowing no matter what, she was going to die today. By your hand or Ellie's, you didn't know - nor care. You continued, "Tell me why, darlin'. Why're you doin' this? Huh? The fuck could he've done? Hey? C'mon, now! Answer me!"

"It doesn't fucking matter why, Y/N!"

But you were trying to play for time, well aware of the gun pointed at Joel that would only take a fraction of a second to fire, not a whole lot of pressure needed to trigger the bullet. There was a good chance that if you opened fire, she could easily take Joel out; the exact opposite of what you were trying to accomplish. You needed a fleeting opening, anything; just a single moment - a nanosecond - to make your move without jeopardizing Joel's life. Or Ellie's. Or yours, for that matter.

"It matters, Ellie!" You barked. "She's got a reason, I wanna hear it. C'mon, darlin', tell me why! Why're you doin' this?"

"He's a fucking monster," she trembled.

"All right, good, that's a start. What'd he do? Huh?"

"Does it matter?! You're both coldblooded murderers, you don't need any reason!"

"You got a point, yeah. But you obviously got your own. Tell me what that is."

Abby took an unsteady breath in, shaking her head as tears leaked in pathetic trails down her ruddy cheeks. "He killed him..."

"Who?"

"My father - he killed my father and 18 soldiers!"

You breathed, "Oh, yeah? When?"

"Five years ago," she grit her teeth. "In Salt Lake!"

"The hospital?"

She seethed, "He was an unarmed doctor! Shot dead like a fucking animal!"

Her gun straightened at Joel, making you chant, "Hey, hey, hey, yeah, yeah, I remember that, I remember. But you're negating from the fact that they had our daughter." Abby's eyes shifted over to Ellie behind your shoulder. "Hey, eyes on me! Look, I fucking promise you, kid, it wasn't in cold blood - we had real good reason. You with them? You a Firefly?"

"They're all gone, you dumb bitch! Didn't you hear?"

"You all that's left?"

"No," she seethed, "there's more of us... Many more in Seattle, but your little family won't get a chance to see them."

"Sound real certain of that."

Joel groaned from the bloody floor as if trying to call for you. Abby snarled, "I'm the one with a gun to your husband, remember? You fucking blind!?"

"Oh, I'm aware, darlin'. But I don't think you're gonna kill him."

"Why the fuck not? You just killed my friends!"

"'Cause he ain't who you want."

"Oh, yeah?" She scoffed.

"We left them nurses alive, I bet they're who told you 'bout us. Right? Am I right?" Abby's jaw steeled, only inclining her head in confirmation. "Yeah, that's right. You came all the way here from Seattle on a mission to kill him. But here's the thing, darlin', Joel ain't kill your daddy."

"I know he did!"

"He didn't pull the trigger! Your witnesses got it wrong, but that's okay - happens during fits of panic. They don't see the whole picture."

"He shot my father in the head! Like he was nothing! Stepped over him like he wasn't even there and walked out the fucking door! Why shouldn't I do the same!?"

"No, darlin'," you smirked, seeing the rage building in her eyes. Good. It's what you wanted - needed. "No, see, Joel didn't fire the kill shot. I did."

"You?"

"Me," you agreed, chuckling - hoping to blind her with anger from your amusement. "Yeah, I shot your daddy - and just like your li'l friends, I ain't hesitate then, neither. What? You look shocked... You surprised I had the gull to do it? I'll tell you somethin' else, darlin', I didn't even look at him - " Abby cracked with a sob and it was the opening you needed. "C'mon, darlin', take your best shot. Or would you prefer I just shoot you now? Can reunite you with dearest daddy real easy."

The girl laughed, arm shifting a fraction as if debating turning her gun on you, "Like you could make the fucking shot, you old hag - "

Your gun recoiled slightly from being fired, striking Abby in the head; and you counted, "Five." Quickly, you shoved the weapon into the holster on your hip, sprinting across the room to where Joel was somehow still breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, baby, hey," you slid on your knees, Ellie charging in a limp after you, "you still with us? Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. C'mon, Joel! Gotta hang on for me, all right? I-I know you endured so much, baby, but hang on a little longer. Please!"

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, making you heave a whimper. "Joel? Joel," Ellie sniffled from her knees at your side, "hey, y-you gotta get up. C'mon, get up - "

"No, no, not yet," you prevented, nodding to the shattered golf club. "Took a fuckin' beatin', Ellie, probably has internal bleedin'. We move him, might make it worse."

"Well, what the fuck do we do, Y/N!?"

"We do nothing - you probably got broken ribs, baby. Fuck," you breathed, looking around the room - something catching your attention. "All right, all right - shit, hang on, stay with him."

"Y/N?" Ellie worried as you found your feet; but her eyes drifted to the movement on the floor. The unarmed girl, Mel, was trying to army crawl through her own blood, sobbing when you stood over her.

"Hey!" You barked, flipping her onto her back, demanding, "Y'all brought med supplies? Right? RIGHT!?"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"You tell me true, doll, I'll help yah."

"Y-You - bitch."

"All right, I'll find it myself," you scoffed, gun back in hand, aiming at her forehead, and firing once. "What were you? Four? No, no, three."

"Y/N!" Ellie sobbed, "He's got a fever!"

"Hang on, Ellie, I got it," you rushed, kneeling at one of the packs - noting the embroidered wolf. There was no questioning it, overturning the pack and rummaging through the contents. Not finding what you needed, you did the same to a second pack; then a third, gasping when it was full of medical supplies. You shifted through it before noting another body in the room right next door. "Shit - Ellie!?"

"What?" She sobbed over Joel.

"Got another body!" It was quiet as you stood with your gun in hand again, aimed at the body before dropping it. "Oh, fuck! It's Dina!"

"WHAT?"

You knelt at her side, checking her pulse and sighing with relief. "S-She's alive! Just knocked out. I got her!" Holstering your gun once more, you grunted and took hold of her wrists to tug the girl into the main room. "All right, honey, just - fuck, stay there, be back for yah." You returned to the medical supplies, tears leaking without consent. "Ellie, here - catch!" Using the hardwood floor to your advantage, you slid supplies her way; not bothering to check if she caught them all or not.

"What do I do?" Ellie whimpered.

"Get over here and check Dina, I got Joel," you scampered across the floor; pair of you switching places. "Hey, hey, do me a favor - get on the radio, get ahold of fucking anyone. You hear me? Use channel 7 to try to get Jesse..." You prayed the lad was smart enough to tune in on the private channel you and Joel used after separating. "All right, all right," you sniffled, caressing your husband's bloody cheek, "baby, hey, hey, can you hear me? Just - Just squeeze my hand, honey, c'mon." When his broken hand squeezed yours, making you sigh, "All right, good, hey, you're - you're gonna be all right. I gotcha, baby, just, um, just hang on for me. Okay? Can you do that?" He squeezed again. "Good boy."

Perhaps his lips twitched in amusement, perhaps not. You didn't notice either way, sorting the supplies - discovering a half-used vial of milky white substance.

"Fucking Propofol? The fuck they doin' with this?" You muttered to yourself, finding a clean needle and drawing it into the syringe.

"What're you doing?" Ellie sobbed, "Y/N? What is that?"

"Tryna save him, Ellie! Radio in! C'mon, baby, I know you're scared - I know that was fucking scary. But I need you to be brave for me right now, Ellie, please. Okay? I need fucking help! Get on the airwaves, all right? Radio anybody!"

"Right, okay, yeah," she sniffled, doing as you told from Dina's side. "Jackson? Jackson, come in!" But there was no answer. So, she switched channels, "Jesse!? Jesse, please, it's Ellie - "

"Ellie? Ellie!"

"Jesse!"

"Where are you!?"

"A-At a lodge! Some lodge, halfway up the mountain! We found Joel and Dina, but w-w-we need help! Like, fucking now!"

"I'm five out!"

You whispered, "I'm so sorry, Joel, I gotta turn you over, okay? I gotta see..." Biting your tongue, you braced Joel and turned him over, whimpering when he hollered in unfiltered pain. "Oh, I know, I know, I know, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I know, baby, I know, but I gotta see." You quickly shed your outer coat and bundled it under his head, "You're gonna be okay, hear me? You just gotta hang on f'me, I'm gonna fix this. I'm so sorry, I know," you repeated as you were forced to shred his shirt and reveal the blackening marks on his torso; some turning sickly blue, indicating the internal damage. "Fuck! Okay, okay, all right... I-I can fix this, fuck me, how do I fix this?"

"Y-Y-Y/N..."

"I know, Joel, okay? I know - "

"Go," he croaked, "gotta leave me."

"Fat fucking chance," you snarled.

"'M not makin' it," he whispered, "but you still can."

"I'm not leaving you! You're gonna be okay, I'm gonna fix this!"

"Go, baby," he wheezed, delirium setting in, "take... Take care... Of-of our girl..."

"Fuck that, we're both gonna do that. You understand? Joel, you stay alive! El-Ellie? Hey, h-how's Dina?"

"Waking up, I think."

"Good - hey, here, here," you snatched up a canister and slid it across the floor. "Wave that under her nose, babe, it's smelling salts. Might help her come-to faster."

"Okay, yeah," Ellie sniffled, doing as you bid.

"All right, hey, I-I can't do shit for Joel here - we gotta get him back to Jackson!"

"How?"

"Shit," you sniffled, shaking your head, "I-I don't know. His leg, okay, I can - I can splint his leg - oh, fuck me."

"What?"

You examined the wound between tattered bits of denim, "Looks like they blew his fucking knee out with a shotgun, Goddamnit." Ellie whimpered as you scanned the room, movement in the snow through the window catching your attention. "Jesse's here - "

"What do we do?"

"We need help," you nodded, "yeah, yeah, so... We're gonna send Jesse back to Jackson for aid."

"What about us?"

"We stay here - keep Joel warm. Remember? After the university?"

"Yeah," sniffled Ellie. "Y-Y/N, I can't lose him."

"Me neither, baby, so we're gonna help him, right?"

"Do you know how?"

"I'm workin' on it," you whispered, looking around the room.

"Y/N!? ELLIE!?"

"UP HERE!" You bellowed through the open door, stumbling to your feet. With a grunt, you smashed a wooden chair to the ground; shattering it to pieces and collecting viable planks of wood. "Okay, okay, okay," you rambled, returning to Joel's side, "hey, Joel, baby, I-I gotta splint your leg. Okay? Oh, this is gonna fucking hurt, I'm so sorry."

"Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, "don't. Just... Go..."

You glared and shook your head, knowing your next move was a risky one. "Fuck that, you and I go out together. All right, I got an idea. Gonna put you to sleep, honey, but it'll be okay. Hear me?" You hovered over his swollen, bleeding face, "You're gonna be okay, I promise, you'll wake up. Just gotta get you outta pain - then we'll get you home. Okay?"

"Baby," he slurred, "please."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know, but just trust me." Joel's hand twitched and you snatched it in yours, lifting to your lips and pressed a series of kisses to it. "Please, Joel, I need you to fucking survive. You don't get to leave me, I-I need you. Hear me? Okay? Just trust me, I'm gonna get you help. Endure and Survive, right? Remember? Endure and Survive, Joel!"

He nodded as best he could, eyes fluttering as Jesse came sprinting into the room. "Holy... Shit..." He paused to take in the sight of fresh carnage. "What the fuck happened?"

Ellie sobbed over Dina, who was finally waking; and you were pressing the needle to Joel's vein and administering the anesthesia. "You're gonna be okay, baby, I promise, I swear, can't leave me - not like this. You're gonna wake up," you whispered to him, watching as his eyes fully shut and he went slack with slumber. "Jesse! Get over here, man, I need help!"

"What the fuck happened?" He repeated, jogging across the floor while dropping his pack - shoes squeaking in halt when he caught sight of Joel's injuries. "Oh, my fucking God - "

"Help me splint his leg, please! Fuckin' please! C'mon, we don't have time!"

"Right, okay."

Together, you and Jesse constructed a splint out of the chair debris and a torn sheet from the other room. You knotted it where you could, watching Joel's face for signs of pain - but he didn't twitch, only breathed shallowly. Your eyes met the lad's and admitted, "I-I don't know what to do next. How do we get him back to Jackson, Jesse, please?"

"We ride like hell," Jesse answered.

"He shouldn't be upright and bouncing around!"

"We got another choice? I can ride back, but time's workin' against him. We could try to build a sled, but - "

"We search the house first and if there's nothing, he rides with me. Luxor and I are fastest."

"There we go," he agreed, already rocketing to his feet.

"Ellie! Watch them!" You commanded as you and Jesse set out to ransack the lodge for anything that you might use to tote Joel. By stroke of fucking luck, in the basement, you found what the previous owner's kids must've used to skate down the icy hillside; figuring it was good enough to use now. After locating Jesse, the pair of you assembled the shed and tug ropes behind Luxor and used found pillows and blankets to line it; then rushing back inside.

"We can both get him down the stairs," Jesse panted.

"We're gonna have to."

"I can help," Ellie stood, Dina leaning against the wall as she regained her strength.

"Fuck it," you breathed, waving her towards Joel, "let's go!"

It wasn't easy; Joel being a grown man of pure muscle and the three of you with only minimal strength. Yet your adrenaline made you feel like Bruce Banner; letting Ellie support his shattered, shot leg out straight as you and Jesse upheld his torso. Down the stairs and out the door, you drug Joel into the sled and immediately covered him with the blankets as Jesse went back for Dina. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough - forced to leave Joel to help Ellie into Dewey's saddle.

"Wait, wait, wait - "

"Please, Ellie, don't fucking fight me, you're injured, baby, you ride with Jesse. Dina'll be all right, I promise - but we gotta go. Now, okay? Before the blizzard kicks up again."

Ellie nodded through her tears as the other two finally made it back. You explained to Jesse the plan and helped Dina into Butterscotch's saddle, ensuring her balance before telling them to get going. Leaving everything else behind including five corpses, you checked on Joel to make sure he was still breathing; kissing his forehead and muttering promises and apologies as you took your place at Luxor's side.

With a heavy sniffle, you begged the horse, "Don't fail me now, buddy, we gotta save him. C'mon - nice and easy, right? Together... Let's go."

You navigated the mountain on foot, keeping Luxor at an even pace while simultaneously ensuring Joel didn't slide away or topple over. It was frustrating to go so slow, but necessary; and the moment you were on level ground, doubled back to cover Joel's head before hoisting yourself into the saddle and spurred Luxor forward.

Snow was kicked up over Joel, but you had wrapped him tightly for protection; soon passing Jesse, Ellie, and Dina to gallop for the smoking town in the distance.

With shot nerves, you navigated through the makeshift hospital of Jackson; steaming mug of coffee in hand as your feet shuffled down the hall to the last door on the right. A voice called your name, making you pause and look back to spy Jesse approaching you with three wrapped plates stacked on top of one another.

"What's that?"

"Figured y'all hadn't eaten today," he eased.

"Hm."

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just fucking dandy, honey. You?"

Jesse frowned, "How's Joel?"

"Still asleep."

"You know, it's been two weeks..."

"What's your fucking point?"

"That you need a decent night's sleep - Ellie and Dina, too."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead, kid, thanks."

Jesse frowned, "We're just worried about'cha."

"Yeah? Well, I'm worried I killed my fucking husband 'cause he won't wake up. Guess we're all worried, huh?"

"Y/N," he sighed. "You haven't left his room since we got back. You can't just stop taking care of yourself, Joel's gonna need yah to help him - gotta have your strength."

"I'm fine."

"That why you look like fucking shit?"

"Don't push me, kid."

Jesse sighed, "Fine, but you gotta eat."

"I'm good," you held up your mug.

"Can't sustain yourself on fucking coffee. C'mon, I brought you all a plate."

"That's real nice of yah, thank you," you accepted the balanced to-go plates in your one hand; leaning them to your chest to keep hold.

"Just... Take it easy on yourself, okay? There's no way you could've known this would happen - "

"That's the thing, Jesse," you warbled softly, "I knew. He was beat t'hell, I knew the Propofol might've been too much, that he might not wake up... But the worst part? I promised him he would. I fucking lied to my husband and killed him in the same breath - "

"He's still breathing," Jesse snapped.

"Fine, then I put him in a coma. That better?"

Before he could retort, the last door on the right ripped open and Dina came toppling out, shouting your name. When she saw you just feet away, she sobbed, "He's awake!"

Three full plates and a mug of coffee shattered on the ground as you nearly tripped over yourself to race into the room. Inside, there was a single bed with a plethora of different machines all whirling and beeping obnoxiously; but there was Ellie, sat bedside, sobbing into Joel's tubed chest. "Hey, hey, hey, what's - "

"He's awake! Y/N, he's awake!" She wailed, forcing herself to lift up and reveal Joel's alert face.

"Holy shit," you heaved, eyes wide and chest hollow. "J-Joel?"

"Hey, baby," he croaked, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

In earnest shock, not even noticing Dina and Jesse behind you, your breathing turned choppy, "Oh, my God, Joel! Y-You're awake, Jesus fucking Christ!"

"C'mere," he mumbled, lips sticking together as Ellie removed herself as if to make room for you.

"No, no, uh," you sniffled, gesturing at Ellie, "you stay put, baby girl, I-I-I'll be right back."

"Where're you going?"

"To find Tommy," you backed up two steps; chest heavy and ready to cave in.

"I can do that - "

"I got it, kid, y'all keep him company f'me," you assured Dina, tears streaming as you stumbled out of the room.

"Hey!" Jesse followed you into the hall, door slamming shut. "Hey, Y/N! What the fuck was that?" But Jesse slowed when you collapsed into the wall, using it to keep upright as you tried to keep walking forward; slowly tripping over your feet and crashing to still-bruised knees. "Oh, my God, hey, Y/N. Hey, hey, hey, what's goin' on? You okay?" He worried, lowering to the floor. Noting the way your chest heaved up and down and how your breathing was rapidly shrill, he calmed, "You're okay, Y/N, hey, just breathe. You're panicking, you just - just focus on breathing. Hey, you're okay, you're not alone."

"H-He's alive," you managed breathed gasps. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive. I-I didn't - he woke up, I ain't kill him."

"No, you didn't," Jesse chuckled in disbelief. "You saved his life, Y/N, just breathe. You're okay."

"I-I - "

"No, I know, but you just need to breathe f'me." You nodded and watched him, following his direction as he breathed with you - in and out, in and out, in and out. "All right, good, that's real good - just breathe with me. Good girl, c'mon, in, two, three, four; and out, two, three, four; in, two, three..."

The door opened again, Dina peaking out to discover the sight; catching Jesse's eye. He nodded with meaning, making the girl double back to grab Ellie; leaving you on the floor with the young man instructing your breathing. When the two girls exited, Ellie worriedly rushed for your side, questioning your name as she knelt, "What's happening? What's wrong? Are you okay? Hey! Oh, my God, talk to me, Ma!"

"She's having a panic attack," Jesse relaid, not commenting on her referal to you as something remotely motherly. "She's all right. Good, Y/N, that's real good - just breathe. Hey, look at me, look at me," he waited until your eyes lifted, "you're okay, I swear to you. Joel's alive, he's okay, he's awake - you didn't kill him, didn't put him in a coma. So, c'mon... You head back in, okay? Go see your husband, I'll get Tommy."

You sniffled and nodded, Ellie remaining in place as Jesse slowly got to his feet. "We got her," Dina assured, finally making him turn to head off. "Y/N? Hey," she squatted before you, "Joel's askin' for yah. Wanna head back in?"

"Yeah, yeah," you rambled, "I-I - yeah, ne-need t'see him. Need t'see him alive. J-Just needed - just needed a second. 'M sorry - "

"No, it's okay, you're good," nodded Ellie, "think you can stand?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon, I gotcha," she hushed, taking up your arm to help you clamber up the wall on trembling legs. "You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Right," she sighed. "Hey, c'mon, let's go in, he wants yah... I'm right here with you, I'm right here. We're all okay... You, me, Joel, Dina, we're okay, Ma, we're all okay - all alive."

"Y-You...?" Your eyes widened, holding onto her arms tightly for support. "Did you call me...? An-And back at the lodge, you did then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," Ellie shrugged as Dina giggled behind her hand, "I mean, is that okay? I don't have to call you - "

"No, no, no. It's so fucking okay, baby girl, good God," you gasped, yanking her into your embrace. In her ear, you sniffled, "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just - I didn't know you felt okay with that - "

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, or, uh, I-I guess, felt ready to say it."

"Gonna call Joel 'Dad' now or somethin'?"

"Woah, woah, woah," she chuckled, gazing up at you in wonder and gently reaching out to wipe your tear tracks as she's seen your husband do, "one step at a time. All right? Gotta see Joel first, everything else second. C'mon, now you just gotta put one foot in front of the other..." She encouraged you away from the wall, "There you go, you're okay. Now, deep breath... You good?"

"I'm okay."

"Good, all right. I got you, just... Open the door..."

As you reentered the room, Ellie and Dina hung back to allow your reunion to occur in privacy. You didn't notice, preoccupied by the sight before you; Joel awake and seemingly alert, his lips pulled on one side in a smirk. Despite the healing disfigurement, he was still the handsome, rugged, inherently and fiercely protective guy you married all them years ago. You hated the sight, but felt overwhelming relief he was awake, aware, looking at you with love, adoration, impression.

"Hey, there she is," he rumbled in greeting, haggard voice making you snap out of it to snatch up the cup of water on his bedside stand. "Where'd you - "

"No, no, hey, don't," you whimpered, bringing the lip of the cup to him, one hand around the base of his head, "just drink first, Joel, please."

Joel's gaze didn't tear from you as he accepted the water, choking minimally from the action he hadn't done by himself in two+ weeks. You determined what was enough, lowering the cup but keeping your one hand on the back of his head; twisting to set the cup aside before quietly turning back to him. "C'mere, baby," he whispered, casted hand twitching to pat his fingers beside him with indication. When your mouth opened to protest, he begged, "Y/N, please." So, you eased down beside him softly, careful not to jostle his injuries - but forced to take in the sight of his slowly-healing face. "Why'd you run? Not happy t'see me?"

Shaking your head, you admitted, "On the contrary, so Goddamn happy and relieved, I panicked for a second."

"Why?"

You sniffled, the tears cold against your dry cheeks, "Thought you weren't gonna... I mean, you were... Baby, I did this. I-I'm so sorry - "

"The fuck you mean? You saved me, sugar."

"No, you weren't waking up - I-I put you in a fucking coma - "

"That wasn't you."

"I took a risk with the anesthesia. I knew your injuries might've been too much, that too much damage was done and if I put you t'sleep, and you might not wake up, b-but I just - you were in so much pain and we had to get you back if you - "

"Hey, hey, hey," his fingers hooked around yours in an effort to take your hand. "Baby... You saved me. Ellie and Dina told me all what happened."

"They shouldn't've."

"I asked."

You sighed, shaking your head, "Joel, I..."

"Talk to me, baby, please."

Meeting his eyes again, you whimpered, "I didn't think you were gonna make it. That girl - Abby? Gabby? Whatever, she, uh, she... She used a golf club. You were more than fucked up, I thought you weren't gonna wake up - I mean, by all means, you shouldn't've - "

"But I did," he comforted, "because of you."

You sniffled again, "Don't say it like that, please. I just - I'm so fucking relieved you're awake. I'm sorry, Joel, I should've got there sooner."

"You got there just in time."

"Almost didn't."

"From what I remember, saved Ellie and I - again."

You shrugged, "I wasn't gonna lose you, either of you. You two are everything t'me that I just reacted, I didn't have t'think. I was so worried, but she - she had a gun at you, I had to stall for time."

"You did the right thing, Y/N."

"Then why do I feel so fucking guilty?"

"You shouldn't - you're a Goddamn hero."

"Don't feel like one."

"Maybe you will when I get up and movin'. Get us back to normal, right?"

"Joel, that ain't happenin' for a long time, baby," you informed quietly, glancing at his leg. His gaze followed, sighing deeply at the bulging knee the Jackson doctors managed to save under a warm blanket. "She had a shotgun..."

"I remember."

You winced, "You should get some rest - I'll-I'll grab the doctor - "

"Don't you dare leave me," he snapped, fingers lacing tightly with yours. "Just - c'mere, please, lemme feel you."

"Fuck no," you refused, "you're still healing and there's a limited amount of pain meds. She got you pretty good, Joel, you're real fragile."

"Enough that I can't hold my wife?"

"Enough that you can't hold your wife," you chuckled dryly. "But, um... I can sit here. I can stay - I'll stay. I'm sorry I left, I just couldn't believe after these weeks, you're awake. Made my heart feel... I don't even know - "

He sighed gently, just staring at you. "It's okay, baby, I understand. Know, you were the last thing I saw... But you look like hell right now, darlin', the fuck happened?"

"Haven't slept in weeks."

"You fuckin' eat?"

"When I remembered. Dina brings me most meals."

"Y/N Miller."

"I was just so worried," you whimpered, tears drowning you. "I worried you weren't gonna wake up, that I'd lose you at any moment. I wanted t'be here, just in case... I... Joel, I just..."

"I know, baby. Ellie said you haven't left this whole time. Hey," he breathed, earning your red-rimmed attention. "Need to thank you, sugar. F-For savin' us, savin' me."

You nodded, "Saved my ass plenty of times, now we're even."

"I heard you, you know? I heard you the whole time, it was all I could hang onto. But I heard you tell Abby you shot her father...? Risky move."

"I needed her to focus on anything other than you. She could've shot you, I wouldn't've been able to do anything and I needed to - I needed you to-to-to - "

"Endure and Survive?"

"Yeah, exactly. So, I lied, told her what I thought would piss her off enough to, you know, take the heat off yah."

Joel's lips twitched at the side again, "My smart fuckin' girl."

"Selfish girl, more like."

"How's that?"

You shrugged, "Didn't wanna be without you, Joel, I can't do this without yah. I need you, Joel, and I... I couldn't let her kill you. Bad enough I got there too late and she beat the shit outta you."

Joel's voice cracked with emotion, "It's not selfish, Y/N."

"No?"

"Nah, baby. The feelin's so fuckin' mutual, 'cause I need'jah, too, sweetheart, and I'll be damned to do this without you, either. You and I, we're gonna grow old - well, older, together, surrounded by our family, all of Tommy and Maria's kids - Ellie and Dina, too. We ain't gonna go out like that, we get t'die like we lived. Together."

"Yeah?"

"I promise," he swallowed tightly, eyes crinkling as he winced. "Can't get rid of me, baby, not that easily."

"Fuck you," you scoffed, "that wasn't easy, not t'see, not t'watch, not t'fight against. It was so fucking hard - I can't ever go through that kinda shit again. Hear me? Never again, Joel, I can't handle it - "

"Nah, nah, nah, never again, baby. I promise. I-I'll talk to Tommy, we're done with patrols - "

"No, you're fucking done," you snipped. "I'll earn both our keep, but you're done, Joel, I can't fucking go through that shit again."

"What if something like that happens to you - "

"I killed them all. There's nobody left that would come for us."

Joel's eyes flashed, "There's those in Seattle."

Your head shook, "Doubt they'd give enough of a fuck to avenge those bastards."

"We don't know that. So... So why don't we both retire, baby? C'mon, like we always said. You think you can't handle that again? Imagine how it'd fucking feel to learn something happened to you and I wasn't there to protect yah. Please, Y/N, we both retire - we don't run that risk no more."

"All right, deal," you agreed through your tears, leaning over him to hold his cheek and press several kisses to the corner of his mouth. "Fucking deal, all right, yeah - "

"Honey? You missed."

"Nah, you're still healing - "

"A kiss ain't gonna hurt nothing," he grunted. "C'mere, please. Don't make me beg... Besos, besos, besos." With a small, watery chuckle, you obliged and pecked his pouting lips - earning another groan. "That's not what I meant - mh!" You cut him off by pressing a prolonged kiss against him, careful not to press too hard and reopen his split lip. He hummed in content, free hand occupied by only an IV lifting to caress the back of your head in an effort to keep you in place. This time, when you pulled back, he mumbled, "Never again, sweetheart."

"Never again," you agreed softly, gently petting a salted curl from his forehead; hand drifting to gently trace the contours of his healing yellowing-skin. "I love you so fucking much, Joel. Don't do that to me again."

"I love you, too, darlin'. Never again - we're done. I swear, we're fucking done with all that."

"Good," you whimpered, glancing back to the usual seat you'd claimed the past couple weeks as you watched over him. "All right, hey," with a sniffle, you slowly lifted from his bed, "Jesse went to get Tommy, but you get some rest, all right?"

"Fuck that, been resting long enough. Just wanna be here with you, baby."

"Got a helluva long recovery ahead of yah, gonna need your strength."

"Think I'll walk again?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it - but we'll work on it together. You'll be okay... That, I can promise."

Joel nodded with a gentle sigh, watching you maneuver back into the armchair Dina had pushed into his room for you. He didn't let go of your fingers, eyes silently watching you as if to ensure you were there - but you did the same. After seeing him on the brink of death, you feared you couldn't look away from his living, breathing form ever again. Quietly, he garbled, "Don't leave."

"Never, baby. I'm right here, I gotcha."

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Rockstar;

Synopsis; Hired to babysit Jay’s daughter, you never expected the quiet tension between you two to turn into something more. Jay tells himself it’s just admiration, maybe loneliness... but one night, with tension hanging heavy in the air, he finally confesses what he feels for you.

Pairing; fem!reader X older rockstar dilf!Jay Genre; suggestive; fluff; tiny bit of angst Words; 2k Warning; horny stuff; body insecurities; cursing; mentions of alcohol; Author's Note: OMG IT'S FINALLY HERE!! I edited this so many times because I wanted it to be perfect. I hope you guys like it :( If you guys like this I was thinking I could make a two-part, longer version with more details. Let me know if you would like that! As always, thank you so much for all the love, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist (might revise and edit later)

You weren't exactly sure when the gentle touches and long eye contact had changed, but you could feel it in your skin every time Jay was close. At first, you thought you were making things up in your head because you had a silly little crush on him, but it was impossible to deny it by now.

He used to ask you to move out of the way and never touch you, but lately, every time he wanted to pass by you, his large, calloused hand would gently rest on your lower back to guide you. Jay used to avoid making eye contact with you; you weren't sure why. But lately, his mysterious brown eyes never left yours when you spoke, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh.

You could swear he was spoiling you, giving you presents that had nothing to do with your job. After all, he was a talented guitarist in a rising rock band, and since he couldn't spend much time at home, he had hired you to look after his three-year-old daughter.

He had been the one to reach out to you after hearing so many good things about your babysitting skills. Jay had asked one of the managers for your number because you also looked after their eight-year-old son. And to say you were good was an understatement.

The care you had for kids was endearing, and the kids loved you. They loved your creativity and ability to make fun, artsy things, your willingness to play with them for hours, to get them to sleep on time, and to eat everything.

Jay refused to admit that he was attracted to you. Why would he like a girl four years younger than him? It wasn't a big age gap—you were twenty-three, and he was twenty-seven.

But he knew he was lonely. After his ex-wife left him, he became very emotionally shut off, focusing only on his daughter and his band. So to him, it was obvious he wanted you because his daughter liked you, and he had been missing a woman's touch for too long.

Jay also realized that he was wrong very quickly. When one day you came into his house with red eyes and a puffy face because of a bad date, he knew he wanted you more than he could explain. And it wasn't just because you were a sweet, kind woman. It was the way you were always so well put together, your full lips always shiny, and the way your body swayed when you moved.

Your hair, your chest, your waist—he was completely drunk on you. And he felt gross for being attracted to you, because in his head, the age gap was too big. Soon his worries eased away when he opened up to his best friend Jake, who assured him he wasn't creepy, just horny.

In his eyes, you didn't feel the same — there was no way. You could hold eye contact with him for a long time without feeling shy; you wouldn't mind his presence close to you, and you would even help him fix his outfits before leaving for work.

But he was wrong, again.

You felt every single touch of his, every tiny glance. The heat of his fingertips against your waist, even through all the clothes. Your breath would speed up from his sophisticated perfume and his black hair, which had grown longer.

Now you're standing in the kitchen, by the refrigerator, the only light source being the soft light from the open fridge. You're holding a tall wine glass, sipping from it slowly as memories flood your mind.

You were standing in front of the tall mirror in the guest room, your hands sliding all over your body. Your eyes hesitated to look at your reflection in the mirror, the reality hitting you like a truck.

Since you've started babysitting for Jay, you had to stop going to the gym because he needs you more than your other kids. And since you're a person who gains weight easily, you're feeling insecure over the extra weight.

“Can I come in?” you heard Jay ask from outside.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jay walks inside the room, and his jaw nearly falls to the floor when he sees you, not believing that the dress he picked out for you fits like a glove.

“You look stunning, YN,” he complimented, eyes glued on the curves that were outlined by the red, silky dress.

“I do?” you ask hesitantly, your hands trying to hide your tummy.

“Hey,” Jay reached out for your hands, pushing them away from your body. “You look so beautiful. That dress has never looked better. It really highlights your curves; it makes you look classy yet sexy.”

A subtle smile grows on your lips, and you let out a small laugh. His words hit your heart harder than they should. Jay looks at your red cheeks and takes a step back, worried.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm just trying-”

“You didn't, Jay. It made me feel good.” You interrupted him, assuring him that you were more than okay.

You can feel your cheeks heating up as you remember his words, loving the way it makes you feel cozy on the inside. But you were still unsure if he meant those words or just said them to comfort you.

During the whole night, Jay had his eyes on you, amused by your polite self talking to everyone while taking care of his daughter. You could feel his gaze on you, burning on your skin from afar. And when he got on that small stage and started singing, you swore he became unbearably hot.

Jay owned the stage with his presence and vocals, his skilled hand playing the guitar as if it were an extension of himself. And as he sang the romantic lyrics, his eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense yet sincere.

By that time, his daughter was sleeping on the trolley, still with a peaceful face despite the loud music. His manager approached you with a suspicious smile. Jay's best friend, whose name is Jake, stood by your side too, as Jay continued performing.

After the performance, Jay, his bandmate, and his manager disappeared for a while, going to a business room to discuss the new direction of the band with the new sponsor.

The first person he ran to tell the good news to was you. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug. Jay had a smile so big on his lips that it made your heart flutter, happy for him.

“What are you doing here so late?” Jay's voice sounds from far away, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was now wearing some loose pajama pants and a t-shirt.

“Just thinking…” you responded with a small smile, taking another sip of the wine.

Jay walked closer to you and took in your figure once again. The red, silky dress that was loose yet tight enough to highlight all your curves, the tall red-bottomed heels he bought, and the heavy necklace resting on your cleavage.

He couldn't understand how you could feel insecure about your body when it had the most beautiful shape and thickness in all the right places. And it drove him mad.

“There's something I need to tell you. And it has to be today and now,” Jay pointed out in a stern voice, catching you off guard.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, worried, putting down the glass next to you on the counter.

Jay stepped closer but stood against the main island in the kitchen while you remained by the counter. He couldn't look better, illuminated by the blue light of the open fridge, his masculine features enhanced by strong shadows.

“I want to start by saying that I don't want anything to change between us.”

Your heart sped up as soon as those words left his mouth, and negative scenarios started forming in your head. He's going to fire me, you thought.

“Jay, if I did anything wrong, just tell me and…”

“You didn't do anything wrong, YN. On the contrary, you did everything right. Too right.” Those words failed to bring any comfort. Could you be fired for being too good?

“Jay-”

“Stop interrupting me, or I'll lose the last bit of confidence left in me,” Jay interrupted you, his hands shaking slightly as he took them out of his pockets and reached for the marble countertop.

You took a breath in, your chest feeling heavy and your heart breaking little by little. Does Daphne not like me anymore? Did he find out about the silly crush I have on him? Am I no longer good enough?

“I have feelings for you, YN. Feelings that I can’t control anymore…” Jay interrupted his speech with a pause. “I want to touch you, hold you, and kiss you. I want to ruin you. To be yours. I want to make you forget about all those bad dates you had in the past, make you sweat, and give you the best sex you’ve ever had.”

Jay stopped for just a moment to catch his breath and calm down his racing heart, but it all went down when he saw you. He could faintly make out the shape of the tears rolling down your cheeks. Silent and heavy.

“Why are you crying? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he questioned, stepping forward and holding your shoulders.

You let out a small giggle, your hand reaching out to wipe the small pearls away.

“Fuck, I thought you were going to fire me. But this is so much better,” you confessed, your cheeks turning red.

Jay was dangerously close—you could feel his warmth and breath against your skin. Your eyes found his, and he felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while, too, but it was unprofessional… so I kept it a secret.”

“You feel the same?” Jay was convinced that he was delirious.

“Fuck, yes, I do,” you laughed. “I always have.”

Silence filled the kitchen space as your eyes met Jay’s, his presence so close yet so far. His hands slowly and hesitantly slid down from your shoulders to your side, tracing your lines under his fingertips.

“That means I can do this?” Jay questioned in a low voice, his large hand traveling all the way down to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You bit your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your throat.

“You can do anything you want,” you assured him, stepping closer, so your chest touched his.

“Wait—” Jay whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips. “I not only want to fuck you, I—I want you to be my daughter’s new mom, my girlfriend.” He declares, eyes tense and glued to yours, needing to show you how honest he was.

“Jay, I would love to. I’m yours, completely.” You whisper, your hands moving to wrap around his neck as his grip on you gets tighter.

Jay doesn’t say anything else; he leans forward and seals your lips with his. The kiss is slow and loving, his warm, delicate lips moving against yours with precision and patience. Your hands sneak to his scalp, pulling the little hairs, causing Jay to let out a low moan against you. A smile grows on your lips, and you turn your head to the side, trying to deepen the kiss.

Something in Jay snaps, and the grip on your waist turns possessive. He takes two steps forward, trapping you against the counter. The kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth and fighting playfully with yours as his eager hands move to the back of your thighs. He lifts you up and sits you down on the counter.

“Jay…” You whisper desperately, your body throbbing with desire. Your eyes find his, and you’re surprised they are completely different—dark and dilated, dripping with need. You haven’t seen them like this before, and it causes a wave of warmth to travel all over your body and pool at your core.

Jay remains silent while his hands pull your dress up, revealing more and more of your flesh. But his eyes are closed, and his mouth is attached to your neck, looking for that sensitive spot that would make you moan. When his full lips smooch the small spot just below your jaw, your mouth opens in an ‘O’ shape, and your hips press forward, harder against his hands.

“You smell so nice, sound so nice…” He speaks against your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a small mark. “I wonder how nice you feel… how nice you taste…”

Jay’s face leaves your neck for a few seconds to give you a quick kiss full of saliva and teeth, hungry and dizzying. Then he shows you a smirk he has never made before and drops to his knees. Your eyes follow his every move, completely hypnotized by the lust in his eyes.

From below, Jay’s hungry fingers travel further upwards your legs, from your foot to your knees and then your thighs. “Such soft skin, baby.” He compliments, and with no further warning, he yanks you forward, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Your covered cunt is inches away from Jay’s face. “It’s going to be a long night… and a long life…” Jay teases, his fingers feeling you up unhurriedly, making you wish you’d just confessed earlier.

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[jose996c]

Unspoken

Parings: dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In the sweltering heat of an Austin summer, Joel Miller finds himself caught between loyalty and forbidden desire. As his best friend's daughter returns home, no longer the little girl he once knew, the lines between past and present, right and wrong, begin to blur. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, and every unspoken word threaten to unravel the careful distance he's tried to maintain. But some fires, once sparked, are impossible to put out.

Warnings: no outbreak au, smut (18+, MDNI), age gap, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it), secret relationship

edit: I want to thank everyone that has liked and/or reposted this fic, it means a lot to me - and i'm planning to write more i just need ideas <3

a/n: Hi, this is my first fanfic - please leave a comment if i need to do anything different <3 or if you have an idea for my next fanfic (i'll write for any Pedro Pascal character

In the heart of a sweltering Austin summer, Joel Miller sat on his porch, nursing a cold beer as the sun dipped low. The sound of laughter and distant music drifted from the neighbourhood barbecue, but he remained in his solitary retreat, lost in thought. At 46, Joel had seen enough of the world to appreciate the quiet moments. His eyes followed the lazy flight of a dragonfly, the only creature brave enough to dance in the heavy air.

He heard the familiar crunch of gravel as a car pulled into the driveway next door. Your dad's old pickup, he thought with a hint of a smile. You stepped out, a vision of youth and energy in the fading light. The sight of you never failed to stir something within him, a feeling he had been trying to ignore for years. But as you grew older, the lines between friendship and desire blurred more each day.

You were 24 now, and the little girl who used to follow him and your dad around the yard with wide eyes had transformed into a woman. Your laughter had deepened, your gaze had grown more knowing, and the way you moved... it was as if the very air around you hummed with a secret life Joel wasn't privy to. He took a long pull from his beer, the coolness barely touching the heat building in his chest. It was wrong, he knew, to think of you like this, but he couldn't help it.

Your relationship had evolved from childhood playdates with Sarah to stolen glances and awkward silences. Your dad, oblivious to the tension thickening the air between you and Joel, had invited him over for their weekly catch-up. The TV in the living room buzzed with the latest baseball game as the two men talked over it, their voices a comforting background to the rhythm of the house.

You emerged from the kitchen, a plate of freshly baked cookies in your hand, your eyes immediately finding Joel's. His gaze was like a warm caress, making your cheeks flush as you offered the snack. He took one, his rough, calloused hand brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. The electricity between you was palpable, a silent symphony playing only for the two of you.

As your dad disappeared into the garage, the TV's volume seemed to drop, the world outside the living room fading away. Joel leaned in, his breath a whisper of temptation. "You know, I've always liked these cookies," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your dad makes a good BBQ, but your mom's cookies are something else."

Joel took a bite of the cookie, watching you with a look that seemed to say so much more than his words ever could. He chewed slowly, savouring it, and then spoke, his voice low and earnest. "But what I like even more than your mom's cookies; is the company they bring." His eyes searched yours for a reaction, a hint of what you might be feeling.

You felt your heart stutter in your chest, your breath hitching slightly. "What do you mean, Joel?" you asked, playing it cool despite the heat rising in your cheeks. You knew what he meant, but you needed to hear it from him, needed the validation that the feelings weren't one-sided.

Before Joel could answer, the sound of your dad's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and he re-entered the living room, wiping his greasy hands on an old towel. "You two okay in here?" he called out, breaking the tension. Joel's eyes darted towards your father, and you took a step back, the moment lost to the intrusion of reality.

You mumbled something about needing to get ready for bed, your voice barely above a whisper, and practically sprinted upstairs, the plate of cookies forgotten on the coffee table. Joel's gaze followed you, a mix of longing and regret etched into the lines of his face. When your dad looked at him questioningly, he shrugged, playing it off with a forced chuckle. "Guess she had a long day," he said, his tone casual, as if the air between you hadn't just crackled with unspoken desire.

As the night rolled on, the conversation flowed, but Joel's eyes kept drifting to the empty spot where you'd been standing. Every laugh, every gesture, played on repeat in his mind, taunting him with what could have been. He took a deep breath, pushing down the emotions that threatened to bubble over.

When the final inning of the baseball game ended and the TV screen flickered to darkness, your dad leaned over and nudged Joel with his elbow. "Remember, the Johnsons are throwing a barbeque next Saturday. Starts at two, should be a good time." Joel nodded absently, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of the way your eyes had searched his.

The following week, the air was thick with the smell of grilled meat and the sweetness of blooming magnolias as the barbeque at the Johnsons' kicked into gear. Joel found himself by the grill with your dad and a few of his old friends, the sizzle of burgers and the crackle of the fire punctuating their easy banter. Despite the casual chatter, Joel's eyes kept drifting towards you, your laughter a siren's call amidst the clink of ice in plastic cups and the hum of conversation.

You looked stunning in a sundress that hugged your curves just right, your hair cascading down your back like a dark waterfall. The sight of you, surrounded by friends and neighbours, made his chest tighten. He told himself he was just being protective, that it was his duty as your dad's best friend to watch out for you. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. The way your eyes caught the light, the curve of your smile, it all whispered of secrets he wasn't meant to know.

As the afternoon grew into evening, the shadows grew longer, and the conversations grew quieter. Joel noticed you slipping away from the group, heading towards the house to grab a fresh drink. The kitchen was your fortress, a place where you could hide from the prying eyes of small-town gossip. He took the opportunity to follow you, under the guise of needing a beer from the fridge.

In the cool embrace of the kitchen, the air was thick with the scent of BBQ sauce and the faint hint of your perfume. Joel leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving you as you filled a plastic cup with ice. He took a deep breath, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"You know, you've always been like a daughter to me," he began, his voice thick with unspoken emotions. "But lately, I've been noticing things... things I probably shouldn't."

Your heart thudded in your chest as you met his gaze, the words you'd longed to hear finally spilling from his lips. The kitchen was a cocoon around you, the outside world forgotten in the face of this moment. "What kind of things?" you asked, your voice a soft whisper that seemed to hang in the air.

Joel took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. "The way you look at me," he said, his voice raw with vulnerability. "The way you smile, the sound of your laughter... it's like you're the only thing that makes any sense in this world."

You felt your heart swell; the words you've been longing to hear spilling from Joel's lips. "Joel, I-"

He cut you off gently, placing a finger to your lips. "Shh," he said, his eyes searching yours for permission. Without a word, you nodded, the tension in the room snapping like a tightly pulled rubber band. And then, with a soft groan, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was afraid, you'd vanish in a puff of smoke. But as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, he deepened it, his hand cupping your cheek. The kitchen spun around you, the only reality the taste of BBQ sauce and beer on his lips and the feel of his hands on your body.

For a moment, the world outside the kitchen didn't exist. There were no neighbours, no friends, no awkward silences or hidden glances. Just Joel and you, lost in a kiss that felt like it had been a lifetime in the making. His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, sending shivers down your spine. It was everything you'd ever imagined and more, a secret promise whispered in the heat of the moment.

But reality had a way of crashing in, and when you finally pulled away, breathless, Joel's expression was a storm of emotions. Guilt washed over him, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side, the warmth of your embrace replaced by a coldness that chilled you to the bone. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I shouldn't have done that."

You searched his face, trying to understand the conflict in his eyes. "Why not?" you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. But he shrugged you off gently, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Because of your dad," he said, his voice hoarse. "Because of Sarah."

For a week, you both danced around the elephant in the room. Joel's absence at your dad's weekly gatherings was palpable, his laughter a ghostly echo that haunted the quiet nights. Each day, the ache grew, the memory of his touch like a phantom caress that taunted you in your dreams. You knew you had to confront him, to lay your feelings bare and risk everything for the chance to be with him.

The evening air was sticky with the scent of rain as you approached Joel's house, a borrowed wrench in your hand serving as your excuse. When he opened the door, his eyes searched yours for understanding, for a reason to resist the pull between you. But the words that followed only served to stoke the fire in your belly.

"We can't do this," Joel said, his voice a tightrope stretched to its breaking point. But his eyes gave him away, the flicker of want in their depths.

You stepped closer, the scent of his aftershave and the faint hint of engine oil clinging to him, a heady combination that made your heart race. "Do what?" you challenged, your voice a soft echo in the quiet evening. "Talk? Be in the same room?"

His eyes searched yours, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Your dad trusts me. I've been a part of your life for so long—"

Since I was a kid, you cut in, your voice sharper than you intended. "I'm not a kid anymore, Joel

."

He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tightening like a coiled spring. "That's the problem," he murmured.

With a sigh that was more of a battle cry, you turned on your heel and marched out, the screen door slamming shut behind you. The sound echoed in the stillness of the night, a stark reminder of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Joel watched you go, the light from the porch casting long shadows across the yard.

A few days later, the neighbourhood buzzed with the excitement of a potluck dinner party. The air was alive with the sound of children playing and the aroma of a dozen different dishes wafting through the air. You found yourself at the center of a group of your peers, an old friend from college recounting a wild spring break story. Laughter bubbled up from your chest, pure and uninhibited, and you felt a sudden warmth in your cheeks.

Across the yard, Joel sat in a plastic chair, his eyes on you, his grip on his beer bottle so tight that condensation trickled down his knuckles. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening with every giggle that left your lips. He told himself it was nothing, that you had every right to enjoy the company of others, that he was just being an overprotective fool.

The sound of your laughter grew louder, and Joel couldn't ignore the sting of jealousy that pierced his chest. He'd known this day would come, but watching you flirt and smile with ease was more than he could bear. He stood up, the legs of his chair scraping against the concrete, and made his way to the cooler, his eyes never leaving you.

As he approached, he heard the tail end of your friend's joke, the punchline lost on him as he focused on the way your cheeks dimpled, and your eyes sparkled with mirth. Joel's hand tightened around the neck of his beer bottle, the plastic crackling under his grip. "Didn't know you liked frat boys," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You turned to him, the laughter dying on your lips as you searched his face for a clue to the meaning behind his words. "Excuse me?"

The guy who'd been telling the joke looked confused, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Joel, his eyes dark and unreadable, his body a live wire of tension.

"What's your problem?" you whispered, leaning in so that only he could hear.

Joel's eyes searched yours, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like the only person in the world. For a moment, the rest of the party faded into the background, the laughter and music a distant hum as the air between you crackled with tension. His expression flickered between frustration, desire, and something deeper—something he was too afraid to name.

But then your dad's booming laugh cut through the air, pulling you both back to reality. Joel took a step back, shaking his head. "Forget it," he murmured, his voice thick with regret.

But you don't.

For the rest of the barbecue, Joel avoids you. He doesn’t look your way, doesn’t seek you out, but you can feel his presence like a weight in the air. He’s tense, distracted, not laughing as easily at your dad’s jokes.

And you? You should be enjoying the party, but all you can think about is the way his voice had sounded—low and rough with something dangerously close to jealousy.

Later, when most of the guests have left and the night is winding down, you find Joel sitting on the back porch, a fresh beer in hand. You hesitate for a moment before stepping outside, closing the door behind you.

"You were jealous," you say softly, standing just behind him.

Joel doesn’t turn around, but you see his shoulders stiffen.

"Go inside," he mutters.

"No." You move closer. "You were jealous, Joel. Why?"

He exhales, shaking his head. "It doesn’t matter."

"It matters to me."

Finally, he looks at you. The porch light casts shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the conflict in his eyes. "You want the truth?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You nod.

He swallows hard, as if bracing himself for the weight of the confession. Then he leans in just slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Because I hate seeing you with him."

The air between your crackles, thick and heavy. Your heart slams against your ribs.

Before you can respond, the sound of the sliding door opening behind you breaks the moment. Your dad’s voice cuts through the tension. "There y’all are! Thought you both disappeared."

Joel is on his feet in an instant, stepping away from you like he’s been caught doing something wrong. He clears his throat, taking a long pull from his beer before flashing your dad an easy, practiced grin.

"Just needed a minute," he says smoothly.

But as your dad launches into a story about the barbecue, Joel doesn’t look at you again.

And you know—this isn’t over. Not even close.

The days after the barbecue were unbearable. Joel had always been a constant in your life, his presence woven into your world like a familiar melody. But now? Now, he was avoiding you. No more casual visits, no more lingering looks. He hadn’t been over to your dad’s house all week, and the absence felt like a void you couldn’t ignore.

You tried to brush it off, but the gnawing feeling in your gut wouldn’t let up. You knew why he was pulling away. You could still hear his voice in your head, raw and full of something dangerously close to regret: Because I hate seeing you with him.

Tonight, you decide you can’t take it anymore. You need answers.

When you knock on his door, there’s a long pause before he finally opens it. Joel stands there in the dim glow of his porch light, his face unreadable, his jaw tight. He doesn’t invite you in.

"Shouldn’t be here," he mutters, eyes flicking past you like he’s making sure no one sees.

You swallow hard. "Then tell me to leave."

Joel exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks exhausted. Torn. "Damn it, kid…"

Your stomach twists. "Don’t call me that."

His eyes snap to yours, something dark and conflicted brewing in them. "You think I don’t want this?" His voice is low, hoarse. "You think I don’t—" He stops himself, shaking his head like he’s trying to will the thought away. "This ain't right."

"Then why does it feel like it is?" You step closer, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Why did you say what you said? Why did you kiss me if you were just gonna run?"

Joel clenches his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Because I’m tryin’ to do the right thing."

You let out a bitter laugh. "And avoiding me is the right thing? Pretending like nothing happened? Like you don’t—"

"Like I don’t want you?" he cuts in, his voice rough, edged with something desperate. His control is slipping, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you. "You think I don’t lie awake at night regrettin’ every goddamn second of that kiss? Because I do. I regret it because I shouldn't want you. And I regret it because I do."

The confession steals the breath from your lungs. The world narrows to just the two of you, standing on the edge of something irreversible.

"Then stop fighting it," you whisper.

For a long moment, Joel just looks at you, torn between every instinct telling him to walk away and the pull that keeps dragging him back to you. And then, like a breaking tide, the moment crashes over him.

With a growl of pure need, Joel pulls you into his arms. The kiss is explosive, desperate. It’s as if he’s been holding his breath for a week, and you’re the air he’s been gasping for. His hands roam your body, his touch burning through the fabric of your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

You cling to him, your own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. The kiss turns into an all-consuming fire, devouring every inch of doubt, leaving only raw, unbridled passion in its path.

You stumble back into the house, the door slamming shut behind you. Joel’s hands are everywhere—on your waist, your hips, your thighs—as he lifts you onto the kitchen counter. The coolness of the tile against your skin does nothing to quench the heat burning through you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pulls your shirt over your head, exposing your lacy bra to the cool air.

The intensity of his gaze as he looks at you—like he’s seeing you for the first time—makes your knees wobble. "You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a hoarse rasp.

The words are a balm to your soul, soothing the ache that’s been festering since that night in the kitchen.

Joel’s hands trace the edges of your bra, his thumbs brushing the swells of your breasts until you’re aching for more. And then, with a gentle touch that belies the fierce need in his eyes, he unhooks it, letting it fall away.

Your breath hitches as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue teasing it into a peak. Your back arches, your hips pressing against him as his hands glide up your bare back.

The world outside fades away, replaced by the sound of your ragged breaths, the rustle of fabric, and the unmistakable thud of your heart beating in time with his.

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensation—his mouth on your skin, his hands in your hair, the feel of his chest pressed against yours. And in that moment, you realize that maybe this isn’t just a fleeting crush. Maybe it’s something more, something that’s been simmering just below the surface for years.

And as Joel whispers your name against your skin, his eyes locked on yours, you know you’re about to find out just how much more it can be.

The tension snaps as Joel lifts you off the counter, his strong arms cradling you effortlessly as he carries you through the darkened house. The air is thick with anticipation, the unspoken words between you louder than any confession could ever be. Your heart pounds against your ribs as the soft glow of the streetlight filters in through the curtains, casting warm, golden streaks over his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his gaze.

He lays you on the bed, his hands firm but reverent as they sweep over your body. His eyes never leave yours as he undoes the button of your jeans, fingers deft yet unhurried, as if savouring each second. The zipper whispers open, the sound nearly drowned out by your own shaky breath. He peels the fabric away, revealing your matching lace panties, his gaze darkening with something primal, something possessive.

A shiver runs through you as his fingers trace the delicate line of lace, his touch featherlight yet electrifying. Your body arches instinctively, every nerve alive, every inch of you attuned to him. His thumb lingers over your hipbone before trailing lower, teasing but not giving in. The corner of his mouth quirks up at your barely restrained whimper, his control evident in the slow, deliberate way he moves.

Joel leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the waistband, his breath hot against your skin. His stubble rasps against your stomach, the sensation both rough and intoxicating. Your hands find their way into his hair, threading through the dark strands, tugging lightly in silent plea. He groans against your skin, the sound sending a thrill down your spine. Your hips lift of their own accord, a wordless request, and this time, he gives in.

The fabric slides down your legs, cool air kissing the bare skin he’s just revealed. His hands follow the path of the lace, his palms rough against your softness, branding you in a way that has nothing to do with touch and everything to do with the way he looks at you—like he’s waited a lifetime for this.

The air is charged, thick with unspoken promises and a hunger neither of you can suppress any longer. He kisses his way back up your body, slow and deliberate, as if mapping every curve, every hollow, every inch of you that belongs to him now. His lips hover over yours, his breath mingling with yours, teasing you with the anticipation of a kiss he refuses to give just yet.

You reach for him, hands trembling with need as you pull him closer. Your leg’s part, inviting him in, and Joel doesn’t waste a second. He settles between your thighs, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours. His fingers trail down, teasing, exploring, before his mouth replaces them.

The first flick of his tongue sends a jolt through you, your body arching off the bed. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he works you open, his mouth a weapon of pleasure against your most sensitive spot. Your fingers tighten in his hair, a broken moan escaping your lips as he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave of heat through your core.

The world around you blur as the pleasure builds, coils tightening deep within. His name falls from your lips in breathless gasps, your body trembling beneath him as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands roam, gripping, teasing, claiming, until you shatter, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your chest heaves, the aftershocks still rippling through you when he rises, his lips glistening, his eyes burning with something deeper than just desire. He kisses you then, slow and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, branding the moment into your soul.

And then he’s there, pressing into you, stretching, filling, until you are one, until there is no space left between you. A gasp catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming yet perfect. He stills, giving you a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both breathe each other in.

The first thrust is slow, reverent, as if he’s savouring the feeling of finally having you. Then another. And another. Each movement sends you higher, the pleasure mounting again, your bodies falling into a rhythm as old as time itself. A rhythm that speaks of longing, of passion, of love that’s been denied for too long.

Your name is a broken whisper on his lips as his pace quickens, his control slipping. You cling to him, nails digging into his back as you chase the inevitable. And when you fall, when the pleasure crashes over you again, you take him with you, his own release tearing through him as he buries himself deep inside you.

Silence settles in the aftermath, the only sound the mingling of your breath, the pounding of his heart against your cheek. Joel pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he can shield you from the world, from the consequences waiting on the other side of dawn.

But reality is a cruel thing.

The cold grip of it slithers in, twisting around your heart, suffocating the warmth of what you just shared.

What have we done?

The unspoken question lingers between you, hanging in the air like smoke from a fire that burned too hot, too fast.

This can’t be a one-time thing. The thought is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, but you also don’t know how to move forward.

How do you tell your dad? How do you explain the way you feel about Joel without shattering everything?

The silence stretches, thick with fear, with desire, with something too big to name. But for now, all you can do is lay there, wrapped in Joel’s arms, and hope.

Because you know one thing for sure: you can’t go back.

The line has been crossed, and there is no undoing it.

[em1989ts]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐭 2

part one. main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

summary: after meeting five in the apocalypse, the two of you have a hard time living together. can the two of you control your tempers for one particularly cold winter night to save your lives?

contains: smut so 18+! (reader and five are both 5 years into the apocalypse so they are both eighteen) grinding, dry humping, fingering

author's note: yikes, my first smut. my inbox is open and i'm taking requests!! id love to hear some ideas :) I really wanted to upload this quickly so it's not proofread but eventually i'll edit it . . . but hopefully you guys like this, enjoy!

Living with this stranger definitely changed your life. Whether it was for better or for worse, you had no idea. 

The two of you walked for about an hour to his base, with very little verbal interaction reflecting the very little trust between each other. 

After a little bit of prying on your part, you managed to extract a bit more background information about this guy who you would now be surviving alongside. 

His name was Five Hargreeves. 

He had six siblings. 

They had super powers. 

They were a team of superheroes formed by their father. 

When he first told you, you chuckled through the bandana over your mouth and nose, but he didn’t display the same humor. 

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Why would I not be?” 

“Well maybe you just went cuckoo here and made up some super stupid backstory!” You replied, pretty certain that he was just nuts. 

Then all of a sudden, he disappeared. 

You jumped at a flash of blue light that suddenly appeared next to you. When you looked back to the area where he was standing, he was gone. 

Looking around frantically, your eyes searched the dusty highway for any signs of him. But there was nothing. 

Was he even there to begin with? Was he just a figment of your overactive imagination? 

Your breathing grew heavy once again as you panicked, then suddenly that blue light and he was right back in his spot next to you, looking amused at your eyes that were wide with shock. 

“Maybe you’re the one who’s cuckoo,” he said with a smug voice. You punched him in the shoulder before the two of you continued walking. 

~~~~ 

His base was interesting, to say the least. 

He had found a building that had only remnants of its walls intact, no roof, and used tarps to makeshift a roof and to cover the enormous gaps in the concrete. 

It didn’t look trustworthy by any means, you’d probably be better off sleeping in cars like you’ve been doing for the past five years. 

He lifted one of the tarps covering a significantly large hole in the wall and crawled in, letting it fall on you as you follow in behind him. You scoffed as you followed his lead. 

He surprisingly had a good stash of resources. Several canned foods, boxes of pasta, and cases of water were stacked in a corner. A makeshift fireplace was in the middle, with a pot leaning next to the circle of rocks. 

There was a small space in the corner. It consisted of what looked like a bundle of tarps and ashy blankets and pillows. You knew whatever happened to the world pretty much converted everything to dust, but he must’ve found those in cars, which somehow withstood some of the fire.

Since you had been sleeping in cars, you collect a couple of sleeping supplies you had found over the years. Thank fuck people decided to road trip before they perished or else you would have frozen to death ages ago. 

You began unpacking your bag and wagon, but you could feel his eyes watching you intently. 

Once you got settled, you didn’t really know what to do to break the unnerving awkward silence, he just sat there staring. You would tell him to take a picture since that would last longer but you're pretty sure there were no surviving cameras in the apocalypse.

The sun had set about twenty minutes ago, leaving the base to get darker as night grew closer. 

He made his way over to the fire pit, and took out a lighter from one of his pockets. When he went to light the wood aflame, the lighter wouldn’t spark. He tried for a while until you couldn’t bear watching the pathetic scene anymore. You took one of the new lighters you had just grabbed today and handed it over to him. He scoffed and snatched it out of your hand, then lit the fire in one try before tossing it on the ground and quickly walking away. 

You were taken aback by his childish actions. Sure, he was alone for years and only had himself to rely on, but now you were here so he shouldn’t be this upset to ask for help with a simple task. 

“You know,” you started with an annoyed tone, “the only reason I’m here is so we can work together.” 

“I don’t need you or your help,” he snapped. 

You cocked your head, not offended but amused. You found his self-reliance ridiculous. 

Sure, it would’ve done him wonders if he truly was the only person on Earth, having no one but himself to rely on. 

But he wasn’t. 

And you sure as hell couldn’t go back to the way things were before. 

If the two of you had decided that you could continue to survive on your own once again, you would drive yourselves mad knowing that there was another human to talk to, that someone else was out there alive and that you weren’t alone. 

You had to stay together to keep yourselves sane. 

“Fine.” 

You had too long of a day to even bother arguing with him. He’d either get used to you or die trying. 

You got up from the dusty ground and tossed yourself on his soft makeshift bed, comfortably taking over. He groaned frustratingly loud, and he tossed his head back and walked outside to get away from the bothersome girl he now had to deal with. 

~~~ 

A few months had passed since Five had encountered the girl at the gas station. That was the last thing he expected when he went out for more supplies that day. 

He definitely never thought he would have to share his hard earned food supply, water supply, and base with her, but that’s exactly what happened. 

She was impossible. She was incredibly sarcastic. She was such a pain. 

And of course, she was a nobody. This meant whenever she got bored of staring into her gross canned beans during those nights by the fire, she would ask about his past. 

He had already told her everything she needed to know, but she kept prying about how he got here, what life was like as a superhero, how his family was. At first, he would ignore her, or at least change the topic to distract her empty mind, but eventually he decided he could tell her little by little. He didn’t trust her, but he knew she wouldn’t try to kill him again. 

Initially, he wasn’t thrilled about being stuck with a girl. He was focused on survival, and his alone. But he quickly realized she was incredibly capable of surviving in this long gone world. Hell, she could’ve shot him dead that first day, yet she didn’t. 

He had been faced with the barrel of a gun several times in his life, yet he’d never felt the way he had when his life rested in the twitch of your finger. 

Your anger did something to him. He blamed it on his teenage hormones, but he couldn’t get enough of when you would pounce at him with a clenched fist. He enjoyed bumping into you purposefully, tripping you, picking you up just to toss you away from him. His constant scowl only hid his raging smirk every time you would get up close, letting him see every detail of your face, how your pupils dilated with intense anger, just to yell about how selfish he was, knowing you were just as guilty. 

If surviving on your own in the end of the world wasn’t hard enough, providing for two was nearly impossible. You had to be extremely cautious about your rations, conserving your intake only to what was deemed necessary. Oftentimes, the two of you would steal from each other when no one was watching, which would piss them off horribly, leading to even more fights. If starvation didn’t kill you, your deadly attitudes would. 

Your tempers had gone through the roof once you started living together. 

Walking away from a fight would call for a knife to be thrown at you behind your back. A snarky comment would result in a hand coming in and punching over your meal. 

While neither of you were going out of your way to deliberately kill the other, you sure wouldn’t mind if it accidentally happened. 

When the nights got colder, and autumn turned to winter, the wind would pick up, making it extremely difficult for the tarps to trap any heat into the base. No matter what the two of you did, the constant flapping drove you insane, and you had already been ticked off when he ignored every single idea you had. His bright idea of just stretching the tarp tight enough over the biggest gap in the whole base led to it ripping right in half, letting the winds fly in with no other tarp big enough to replace it. 

“Great job, you dumb fuck,” you muttered as you turned to the fire, which was too small for its warmth to be felt from the beds. 

Your nose felt like it was about to fall off, your fingers felt like nothing, and your lips were blue. You had put on every layer you could find and it still wasn’t enough. Surely, this was the harshest winter you’d experienced in the apocalypse. 

You had usually been fine sleeping in cars, but every single one within a mile radius had been completely destroyed. The two of you would let out your violent rage on the vehicles rather than each other. 

Five had stared at you from his spot by the hole in the wall, snowflakes freckling his face, holding the remains of the tarp. He did his best to cover as much as he could with the pieces then made his way over to you. He noticed how red your cheeks were, and how pale the rest of you was. You had sat down by the fire and dropped your chin between your knees. 

“We’re not surviving this winter,” you said solemnly. You weren’t necessarily giving up, you would still do what you could, but you had little hope in yourself. Morale was hard to build these days, especially when all you wished was to throw yourself into the fire for even a moment of warmth. 

For Five, giving in to the cold wasn’t an option. Not in the slightest. 

He had an idea, maybe a bold one, but if it meant living to see another spring then he would do it. He walked over to the bed and grabbed as much as he could grab. The tarps, blankets, and pillows stuffed under his arms until he couldn’t fit anymore, and he dropped them right next to you by the fire and started laying them out. 

You lifted your head up slightly and displayed a curious arch in your brow as you watched him remake his bed on the ground. The idea was so obvious you cursed yourself for not thinking of it first. 

As you were getting up to grab your bed supplies, a freezing hand pulled you back down and into him. You caught your balance with your hand on his jacketed shoulder, “What the hell?-” 

“Just listen to me,” he cut you off, “The only way either of us is gonna last the night is if we use our body heat. The fire’s going to help but it won’t be enough.”

You scowled, was that seriously the only option? 

Instead of letting you take your sweet time to contemplate whether or not it was worth it to cuddle with him for your life, he tugged you into him and laid down with you. 

His arms wrapped around your front as he held you against his chest, and holy fuck, it felt as if you had been leaning against a furnace. His heat warmed you up quickly, and you brought a blanket up to your chin to keep that heat locked in. 

The proximity of the two of you was what kept you from falling asleep immediately. His chin resting in your neck made you feel something you didn’t want to admit you felt about Five. His arms around your waist made you want him to move his hands just a little bit lower. 

You had an idea that could get you killed. 

While pretending to adjust and get comfortable, you gently grinded your ass against him, trying to get a reaction. 

Immediately, you could feel his arms tighten around you, and a bulge was already pressing into you. 

He leaned closer to your ear and growled quietly, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You turned your neck to look at him, performing with the sweetest eyes you could display, “Just getting comfortable.” 

Your lips were inches away from his, yet neither of you made a move to close the gap. Five still looked at you with skeptical eyes even though he knew exactly what you had planned. 

Once you moved your hips again, a little harder, he pressed his face into your shoulder as he sighed and repeated the action. 

You let out a quiet groan, enjoying the pressure, yet you brought the blanket up over your mouth to muffle it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

He picked up his pace, lowering his hands to hold your hips firm, rolling them against his. The blush on your face grew even more red, and you could feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead. 

His grip was tight, his groans were getting louder, and it felt like you really had frozen to death because this felt like heaven. 

His hand crawled through your layered sweatpants as he reached between your legs. As his cold fingers reached the spot you needed him most, you almost cried out, desperately needing the pressure. 

His other hand moved from your waist, traveled under your sweatshirts, and found its place on your breast. The freezing touch had such a strong sensation, and the pressure felt so good. 

“Please,” you let out, knowing you’d be kicking yourself later for sounding so painfully desperate, “I need more.” 

He moaned in your ear as his bulge pushed harder against you, “We can’t.” 

“Please,” you pleaded, as his fingers circled your clit.

God, you felt pathetic but it felt so good. 

He groaned as he gathered your wetness. 

“It isn’t safe,” he said, disappointed at the fact that you just couldn’t risk that in the apocalypse. 

Before you could beg, he plunged his long fingers into you, soft moans spilling from your throat at the motions. 

His actions grew faster and so did his panting, you knew he was getting close and you were too. 

You turned your neck to face him, looking up at his flush face. He met your dazed eyes, admiring how your face glowed with pleasure. His eyes locked onto your lips as he moved closer and captured them with his. 

Moaning into each other's mouths was just too much for you both, as he came in his sweatpants as you came around his fingers. He let you both ride out your highs before he gently pulled out his fingers. 

He looked at you unusually sweetly, and as you turned to ask what that face was about he shoved his fingers into your mouth, sliding your juices onto your tongue, letting you taste yourself. 

You were surprised initially and groaned at the action, then bit his fingers which caused him to scowl and quickly pull them out. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” 

“Of course not.” 

~~~

tags: @groovydazephantom

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m)

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut !! p in v, she/her pronouns used for reader

series master list

any minors caught interacting will be blocked and reported

a/n: don't mind me bringing this series back THREE YEARS later bc i fell back in love with matt murdock. felt right to re-publish just bc i have edited it a little bit too. enjoy!!

You fucking hated these parties. 

Sweaty lawyers, classy music, champagne that cost thousands of bucks but tasted like piss. And it was all for what? For every lawyer on the Upper East Side to have a dick measuring contest and decide who the best prosecutor was? Yeah, that sounded about right.

It would have been less insufferable if the barristers in question were younger, hotter and more prone to using antiperspirant. Sadly, they were none of those things. All well past their sell-by date. You could deal with an older man but these were just…old. Daddy issues were one thing but gran-daddy issues was where you drew the line. Much unlike the gorgeous blonde girls hooked on the arms of the eighty-plus law firm partners, flaunting the expensive rocks on their fingers and praying for the day that their husbands finally keeled over and left their estates to them. You’d always sworn not to become one of them. At least not until you were twenty-seven at most - and it wouldn’t have been hard, given that your father was the District Attorney and had every high-flying lawyer in his pocket. 

You didn’t need their money though, not when you had his. Obviously, most of it was family money - district attorneys didn’t exactly make money bags. Not much of an issue given that your family name ranked a little between the Vanderbilts and the Rockerfellers. 

So there you were, perched on the edge of some random firm’s annual mixer. You’d cracked out your mother’s vintage Chanel suit - a red-and-black checkered blazer and matching mini-skirt, finished with black platform heels and a spritz of Coco Chanel. There wasn’t a hair out of place - that was rule one of finishing school. 

“Darling, are you going to mingle at all?”

Eyes flickering up from your champagne, they locked with your father’s a few feet away. The scowl was natural. 

“What am I supposed to talk about?” you asked. “They’re all boring. And old.”

“Any man here would give you a job,” he replied. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to have one.”

“Oh father, please,” you snorted. “Your great-grandad didn’t spend years exploiting oil tycoons for billions of dollars for me to break my nails working.” 

You could have gotten any job or degree you wanted - money aside, you were smart as fuck. You’d graduated top of your class at Harvard at the mere age of 21. Two years later, however, your degree was just decoration, with you having discovered you much preferred just…existing. And spending money on clothes, bags, and whatever else you fancied that day. 

“Our ancestors worked hard-” 

“- I never said they didn’t work hard,” you cut him off. “You clearly put a lot of effort into sucking Wilson Fick’s dick.”

Shoving your glass of champagne into your father’s hand, you blew him a kiss and stalked off. 

It was that particular conversation that caught Matt Murdock’s attention. 

He stood a good few meters away from you, nursing his own glass of barely-touch bubbly and fiddling awkwardly with his tie. Foggy Nelson had dragged him there - c’mon Matty, it’s just a formality he’d said - and then duly fucked off to flirt with a stunning law clerk. What a jerk. 

Your comment had been flippant, but it was the first mention of Fisk’s name in a negative light that he’d heard all night. It was no wonder he wasn’t very popular there, given how his law firm had attacked the big guy. 

“You look bored…” you trailed off, eyes flickering down to the name tag on Matt’s lapel. “...Murdock.” 

That wasn’t why you’d come over to him. Okay, maybe it was a little but also because he was a) a stunningly attractive man in a room of viable Jabba the Hutt’s and b) his blazer was just a little too tight for his arms. He’d been meaning to get it taken out a little but man, life was just so busy at the moment. 

It took exactly five seconds for your entire being to fill his senses. Faint Coco Chanel and expensive body cream, all of which had clearly been used to mask the smell of tobacco. Expensive tobacco too. The taste of champagne lingered every so slightly on your breath, but not enough to show you’d had that much. He could read you just from that. You smelt like you - or your daddy, most likely - had money and it was clear you weren’t big on drinking. At this event, at least - because what socialite in modern day Manhattan didn’t have a drinking problem? 

It was weird how he could tell when people were staring - it was just a sense that their lingering eyes just happened to be in his direction. But even if he was in their line of sight, it was clear they weren’t looking at him. No bets that you were one of the best sights in the room. 

Matt was bored. You were bored. And that was where the entire problem began.  

The lawyer gave you a smile. “This isn’t really my scene.”

“Oh, please,” you beamed back at him. “It’s not mine either. You should be grateful you can’t see what’s going on right now - it’s like watching hundreds of Rich Uncle Pennybags drag around their discount Pamela Anderson sex dolls.”

Matt let out a derivative snort. Hell, you were funny too. 

“I very briefly remember what Pamela Anderson looks like,” he replied. “Even a discounted version of her is arguably still very beautiful, no?”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “I mean…I would.”

“I can only assume based on the way you’re speaking about these established lawyers that you’re not one of them?”

“Absolutely not,” you shot back. “I never got around to passing the bar.”

“So why are you here?”

“My old man’s the district attorney,” you replied. “And I can tell by the way your face just fell that you don’t like him.”

“I don’t not like him-”

“- it’s okay, Murdock,” you cut him off. “Rest assured, I probably hate him more than you.”

“So I’ll ask again,” he raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

“Family obligations,” you rolled your eyes. “But what I wouldn’t give to stop playing happy families and leave this godforsaken hall to drink alcohol that doesn’t taste how my Great Aunt Betty smells.”

Matt normally wouldn’t have accepted your hint, but he was so done with the night already. Daredevil aside, he hadn’t been living a very exciting life the last few weeks. Maybe it was time he did something for himself. Something younger, funnier, and prettier than the woman he would normally find in New York on a Saturday night. 

“Are you even old enough to frequent establishments that sell alcohol?”

“Oh, you’re funny,” you huffed. “Old enough by just over two years, but I can assure you I’ve been drinking much longer than that.” 

Matt smiled. “Then I might know a place.”

–

All eyes were on you the second you stepped inside Josie’s Bar. Not for the same reason they’d been on you at the last event. 

Your outfit alone probably cost more than the yearly rent of this hole. It was a nice hole, though. Nicer than you’d expected. Even if the carpet was sticky on your heels and the air thick with tobacco. At least here you wouldn’t have to hide your own smoking habits. 

“What’s your poison?” Matt asked. He kept a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the bar. Nice.  

You glanced at the bar, scanning the shelves for your choice of intoxication. 

“I’ll take a double dark rum and coke, please.” you replied - half to Matt, half to the woman behind the bar who you assumed to be Josie. 

“Diet coke?” she teased. 

“Not necessary- regular is fine,” you replied. “I assume you accept American Express platinum here? I’ll tip as well.”

Josie smiled. “Touche - and for you, Matthew?”

“I’ll take an IPA.”

You smiled, resting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I kind of liked just calling you Murdock.”

“I don’t mind if you want to keep doing that,” he replied. “That little play with the AmEx card was cute.”

“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna let her talk down to me just because I’m not…working class like everyone else in this bar.”

“How long did it take you to come up with a nice word for poor?” he teased. “Didn’t they teach you grammar in private school?”

You ran a hand down his arm, acrylic nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “You like running your mouth, don’t you, Murdock?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

Maybe this was unlike him. Actually, maybe it wasn’t unlike. In fact…it was more like him than the everyday Matt Murdock he liked to let in. It felt a little sacreligious that it was a pretty rich girl that brought it out of him - never mind that you were at least ten years younger - but hell, he’d take it. Life was short and he knew how fun the daughters of rich businessmen could be. Elektra Natchios was testament to that and was arguably much less of a good time that you were so far. 

You slid his drink towards him. “Better get drinking then, huh?”

–

You tried to outdrink Matt.

Matt tried to outdrink you. 

And that was the only explanation as to how you were still at Josie’s by final call. Neither of you were drunk - tipsy at a push - and somehow, you were both walking the line between giving the other your all and still playing hard to get. You’d learnt that Matt was a tease - no doubt a smooth talker in the courtroom - and he could easily keep up with your taunts and jabs. 

“I can’t believe we got kicked out!” 

You’d stumbled out the bar about two minutes before, arms linked with his to guide him down the street. Matt’s cane was tucked up neatly away now - he could have pretended to still use it, but the way you held onto him and led him down the street did far too much to his senses to deny himself of it. It was a mixture of expensive perfume and rum, and what felt like electricity every time your hand touched his wrist. 

“It’s called closing time,” Matt shot back. 

“In my world, that’s just a Green Day song,” you said. “You go a few blocks east of here and they’ll stay open as long as you keep paying.”

“We could go a few blocks east - or we could go one block south and go back to my place.”

You grinned. “Lead the way! Wait - oh my god. Was that really mean?”

He chuckled, grabbing your hand and leading you in the opposite direction.

Matt’s apartment was nice - high ceilings and big windows, though sparsely furnished and minimal at the same time. You followed him through to the kitchen, kicking off your heels and sliding into a bar stool beside him. He threw aside his glasses and cane, spinning around to face you.

“So, tell me,” you began. “How does a small-time lawyer like you afford a place like this?”

“I take men like your father to court,” Matt suavely replied - he reached across the counter and yanked over a bottle of scotch, popping off the lid. “Care for some?”

“Mm, Glen Mckenna,” you glanced at the label. “I’m not much of a scotch gal, Murdock. At least scotch that’s only thirty years old.”

“It’s older than you, sweetheart.”

“My age hasn’t been much of a problem the rest of the night,” you shot back. 

You unfolded your legs, ever so slightly pushing up your skirt as he did. You knew Matt couldn’t see, but some part of you knew even more that he was picking up on your signals. 

That suspicion became something of certainty when he practically threw aside everything on the kitchen counter, large hands grabbing your hips. Within a matter of seconds, as though something had snapped, he had you placed on top of the cool wood, fingers splayed into your sides and mouth just inches away from yours. 

“You’re really playing the age card, huh?” his voice was raspy; bare, green eyes dark with lust. “You know nothing.”

You gave him a grin. “So teach me.”

Matthew Murdock’s lips were on yours before you’d even finished your sentence. Not unlike his hands, they were thick and calloused, bringing a thousand senses over you at once. He was clearly an experienced kisser - and a giving one too. Worlds away from the immature frat boys you’d spent the last few years gallivanting about with. 

He was right -you did know nothing. 

But that was just it, right? Matt was older than you - ten years, fifteen at the most. You’d slept around here and there but hell, nothing had been like this. Two minutes into whatever the fuck you were about to do and Matt had you shaking, cocky demanour gone; hands tangled in his hair and cunt begging, craving for a man you’d never even had before. 

Matt’s teeth tugged on your lower lip and you knew then you’d completely lost your mind. The moan that escaped your mouth only lulled him on, hands squeezing your hips even harder and pulling you closer towards him. 

You felt it then, pressed against your lower stomach. He was hard as fuck. 

“Stop teasing,” you grumbled. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Matt hissed. 

Still, he obliged. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pulled you off the counter, carrying you over to the sofa. He held you with only one arm, free hand tangled in your hair and holding your lips on his. 

You both fell onto the couch, clothes flying everywhere. It didn’t matter how expensive your stupid vintage Chanel was then- it looked much better on his floor than it had ever had done on you. Matt’s shirt and pants followed suit, landing before yours in a crumpled pile. 

“You in some kinda fight club or something?” you paused, tangling your hand in Matt’s hair and pulling him back. Your free one followed down his torso, fingers ghosting across the pink ridges on his abs. No complaints here. 

“Less talking, sweetheart,” he brushed aside your comment. “=

“Who put you in charge?”

“Me,” his words were muffled, barely audible as he attached his lips to your neck. “You gonna do as I say?”

“Or what?”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Matt’s lips were quickly replaced by a calloused hand on your throat. He gave it a light squeeze, a wicked smile spreading across his face when your wise demeanor was suddenly gone. He pressed another kiss to your neck, then another, following up to your ear. 

“If it gets too much, you say - okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied. “I promise I can take it.”

Another kiss, this time on the lips. “Good girl.”

You let out a whimper, brain not entirely sure what to focus on as Matt’s hands went to work. He kept one on your throat, squeezing it just enough to earn a moan out of you, the other creeping up your thighs and gently slipping inside you. That caught you by surprise - how gentle he was, and yet completely the opposite at the same time. 

Matt pushed you down into the cushions, hand still gripping your throat. His fingers curled inside you - back and forth, back and forth. A steady beat that hit the right spot over and over and over. Ecstasy took over your body like a rush, senses consumed by nothing but him. 

“Matt,” you murmured. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” his voice was still gruff, holding some type of contagious venom at you for distracting him. “I’m getting plenty from this.”

And he was. He was getting everything. The quickening pace of your heart, the smell of you, the tiny moans and whimpers that escaped your mouth every time he so much as moved. It was exultation for him as well - and almost completely sinful, the way it made him feel. Not that he gave a fuck about any religious figure in that moment. The man was willing to spend an eternity repenting his sins if it meant just one night with you. 

You came quicker than you ever had with anyone - better than you ever had with anyone. It rushed over your body like a fountain of cold water, ripping from your stomach and up to your already-dysfunctional brain like the sharp drop of a rollercoaster. Falling, falling, falling, until Matt’s hands grabbed you and grounded, softly caressing your face, holding your jaw as you cried out his name. 

“You want to stop?” he gently asked. 

“No,” you sharply sat up, scowling. “Didn’t I say that I would tell you-”

“- careful with your tone, sweetheart.”

Matt grabbed you by the hips again, pulling you down into the sofa. The next few moments were unbearable in the best way - a blur of teeth on your neck, chest, stomach and thighs, barely even registering what was going on until you felt his tongue swipe over your folds. A cry escaped your mouth, still overstimulated from your last orgasm. 

“If you want something,” Matt popped his head up, shit-eating grin across his stupidly gorgeous face, “you should just say.”

“Stop fucking teasing.”

He moved back up towards you, brushing his lips against yours. “You make it so easy.”

With that, Matt placed his hands on your ass and hoisted you into his lap. He gave it one final slap before grabbing his dick and maneuvering into inside you - you couldn’t help but let out a moan of relief, dropping your head into his shoulder and gently biting his skin. 

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” he chuckled. Running a hand up your back, he dusted across your shoulder, large fingers finding place on your jaw. “Move.”

And move you did. 

It was heaven the way he felt inside you - his fingers had been one thing but this was incomparable. You didn’t give a fuck about a stranger’s neighbours at the best of times, but you had absolutely no respect in that moment for anyone belove or below (in more than one sense). You were loud and Matt fucking loved it. He couldn’t see you - couldn’t see your glazed over eyes or freshly bruised and bitten skin - but hell, you filled his other senses enough to make up for that. 

You kind of knew the minute you met that he had a big dick. It was in the way he held himself: confident, but humble. Funny, but in an unassuming way. And it hit just the right spot, repeatedly edging the same spot that his fingers had tired out just moments before. 

It went on for a few more minutes; you were completely lost in one another, brains barely able to comprehend that you’d known each other less than twelve hours. 

You didn’t need to tell Matt that you were - he knew, and rather than slowing it down so that you could revel in the last few moments, he picked up the pace; hand tightening on your throat, other squeezing your ass in a way that was sure to leave a mark in the morning.

Your second orgasm was indescribable - you opened your mouth to let out a yell and yet, it was silent. Your acrylics clawed up and down Matt’s back, digging into him in an attempt to ground yourself. That only egged him on, the sting adding to his euphoria as he came undone inside you. 

Matt laid you back down on the couch, pressing kisses to your jaw as he did. You frowned when he began shuffling about - then he produced his shirt from the floor. He maneuvered your arms so that he could pull it over your head, before reaching for a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around your middle. 

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go get you a cloth. Don’t move.”

“I’m never moving,” you softly chuckled. 

He smiled. “Good.”