#also please keep tagging me into your own work!!

[uceyliyahh]

GUARDED

summary: Genesis has been protecting her heart ever since she filed for divorce and didn’t want to be in another relationship until he came around and changed her mind.

this fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED

warnings contain: emotional abuse, divorce, depression, fighting, oral (m receiving), self pleasure.

word count: 7.1k

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment

Jimmy Uso x Genesis

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

thanks to my friend @charmed-dreamssss for helping me with the title 🫶🏽

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @sharmelasworld @spiicii @formulafortyfour @theusotwinzcom @mingisfavgf

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @mjonthetrack

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @shanthefemalerapper @bloodlineslut @bookuce @sheaabuttaababyy @li-da-savage @luvrsluxe

𝚺𝛊𝛆𝛎𝛆𝛈

𝜣𝒎𝜼𝒊𝒔𝝇𝒊𝜺𝜼𝝉

gigispovv has posted on their story!

jonathanfatu replied to your story: fuck you look so fucking pretty baby I’m getting those pics first 😩

uceyjucey replied to your story: come get him Gigi he’s been acting like a damn horny ass dog😭😭

jadecargill replied to your story: 👀👀 ouuu our girl doing a photoshoot??

jackieredmond replied to your story: can’t wait to see them pictures girl

americannightmarecody replied to your story: look at my beautiful best friend

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: I can tell that these pictures are finna eaaaaat

gigispovv, biancabelairwwe, americannightmarecody, and others liked your post.

jonathanfatu: Twin Flame 💪🏽

gigispovv: can yall like do another pose or sum? 😭😭

uceyjucey: @ gigispovv mane sis why you hating? 

trinity_fatu: ouuu daddy looking good 

samizayn: my brothers 💪🏼

biancabelairwwe: @ gigispovv girl you better get Trin 

gigispovv: @ biancabelairwwe manee she ain’t important just desperate 😭🧍🏽‍♀️

romanreigns: @ gigispovv when you coming to visit the fam again? 

rikishi: ❤️

americannightmarecody: where’s Gigi Jimmy! 😭😭

jonathanfatu: @ americannightmarecody she’s at her photoshoot uce 😭

MontezFordWWE: now you know I gotta meet Genesis

read all comments.

Fort Wayne, Texas - 2:30PM

Genesis took the day off from work today to prepare for an exciting photoshoot. As she sat in the makeup chair, a stylist expertly curled her hair, and she passed the time by scrolling through her social media feeds.

While she was engaged in that task, a notification popped up on her screen, revealing a text from Jey.

Brothaa💪🏽📍: Gigi come get yo’ man

She chuckled at his message.

Gigi🤍: he’s not my man yet we haven’t made it official 

Brothaa💪🏽📍: still come get him he’s back acting out today bc you ain’t here rn fool actin like a feral dog rn

She was aware that this would occur during her absence. She understood just how needy Jimmy could be, and the wild part was—she adored it.

Gigi🤍: tell him I’ll be there to visit him later 

Brothaa💪🏽📍: yk he don’t wanna hear none of that Gigi 😭😭 he wants you here now 😭

Gigi🤍: too bad he’s going have to wait tell him I said to be a good boy and he’ll get something in return 🙂‍↕️

Brothaa💪🏽📍: aight then have fun at yo’ little photoshoot then sis 

Gigi🤍: byeee

Genesis resumed her endless scroll through social media, her mind drifting back to that incident at his mother's house with him and Zilla, a moment that had left her in silence ever since.

The final words she received from Zilla were that he intended to come for her, holding her responsible for her ex-husband's hospitalization due to Jimmy's gunfire—but could anyone truly fault him? Jimmy had always been fiercely protective of her, so it was only natural for him to act.

As the hairstylist finished curling her hair, Genesis gazed into the mirror, admiring her vibrant, bouncy curls. She expressed her gratitude to the stylist while playfully tousling her hair with her fingers.

As the hairstylist finished curling her hair, Genesis gazed into the mirror, admiring her vibrant, bouncy curls. She expressed her gratitude to the stylist while playfully tousling her hair with her fingers.

“Girl! You look absolutely gorgeous.” Danny said.

“Thank you Danny, are you ready for me?” Genesis asked as Danny nodded his head.

Genesis rose from the makeup chair, trailing behind Danny as they approached the camera. The bright lights and extensive camera gear loomed before her; it was her very first experience in such a setting.

If she were truly honest with herself, she would admit to feeling quite anxious; however, deep down, she was confident that she would excel.

In the center of the scene, she adjusted her outfit, ensuring everything looked perfect as the camera clicked away. She struck a variety of poses, with Danny enthusiastically cheering her on from behind, which greatly eased her frayed nerves.

She flaunted her face and body, revealing everything as they kept capturing her beauty on camera—if Jimmy were present at that moment, he would be utterly speechless, unable to resist the urge to tear her clothes away in an instant.

“You look good Gigi!” Danny shouted behind the camera.

Genesis struck a few more poses before the photo session came to a halt—she strolled over to Danny, who was reviewing the shots, and wow, she looked stunning.

“Damn I look like a snack!” She exclaimed.

“No, honey you really do look so good. How come a man hasn’t snatched you up yet?” Deep down, Genesis realized that Jimmy was the one who had swept her off her feet and was looking after her with great care.

Genesis shrugged her shoulders, “ I don’t know Danny, a man wouldn’t know how to handle me.”

Danny had tapped his fingers while smiling, “clock that tea babes, let’s continue on with the photoshoot.” Genesis gave a slight nod, fully aware that she was being completely dishonest about her previous statement.

She preferred to keep her affairs private, and Jimmy was the only one who understood her completely; he was the perfect man for her.

—

Once she finished snapping photos and slipped into a fresh outfit, she noticed someone entering the building, carrying a bouquet of flowers, approaching her with a warm smile.

A vibrant bunch of crimson roses instantly brightened her face with joy as she eagerly accepted them, expressing her gratitude before they could turn to leave. Her eyes caught sight of a small card nestled among the blooms, prompting her to carefully extract it and read the heartfelt message inside.

‘Hey Baby, I miss you so much right now. I hope everything is okay during your photoshoot. If something happens, let me know, and hurry up so I can see yo’ cute ass.’ Xoxo Jonathan 

She laughed softly at the adorable note on the card, inhaling the fragrance of the roses he had gifted her, just as she noticed Danny approaching with a playful grin on his face.

“Alright girl, who's the lucky guy?” He asked, nudging her on the shoulders.

Genesis shot him an exasperated glance as she focused intensely on her chess game. "There's someone important who wants me to visit him after my photoshoot because he misses me," she replied, setting the bouquet of roses down on the table.

“Ohhh, is y'all dating or made it official yet?” Genesis preferred to keep their relationship under wraps, adding an element of intrigue for those online and in their lives, allowing others to speculate freely.

“All imma say is our relationship is private Danny, that’s all you need to know honey.” They exchanged amused glances and laughter as they strolled toward the center, with Danny positioning himself behind the cameras.

Just as they were about to begin the photoshoot, a ruckus from outside piqued their curiosity—she recognized a voice that sent chills down her spine, compelling her to move closer to uncover the identity of the person behind it.

At that moment, she froze, her eyes widening at the sight of Zilla's battered face as he struggled against the security guards, desperate to reach her.

“Gigi! Baby! Tell these fools to let me in!” Zilla shouted.

Danny came up to her before speaking, “is that the guy who sent you the flowers?” 

Genesis shook her head, explaining that the flowers were sent by one of his older cousins. She added that Zilla was someone who had unrealistic expectations. Just then, she noticed a security guard approaching her.

“Ma’am do you know this man?” One of the security guards asked.

Genesis glanced at Zilla, then turned to the security guard, shaking her head before speaking. "I have no idea who that man is, please escort him out." The guard acknowledged her request and led the man away from her and Danny.

Her heart raced wildly, a heavy lump lodged in her throat as she struggled to swallow, confronted by him after narrowly escaping a brutal attack from his cousin—she pressed her hand against her chest, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

“Genesis! You hear me calling you!” She paid no attention to him as she made her way back to the cameras positioned in the center.

She refused to allow him to sabotage her current happiness just because he desired something from her—especially since Jimmy had already shattered her five-year vow of celibacy. What more could Zilla possibly expect from her now?

“You good to continue Gigi?” 

“Yeah, let’s continue with this Danny.”

After finishing her evening photoshoot, Genesis decided it was time to catch the twins' match. As she headed to her car, a voice called out her name, startling her. To her surprise, it was Zilla, the very person she had been trying to dodge. With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes at this unforeseen meeting.

He extended his arms to pull her close, but she softly resisted, her face etched with seriousness. She just lacked the strength to deal with his antics, particularly as she was feeling under the weather at that moment.

“Nigga don’t fucking touch me.” Genesis spat while folding her arms.

“Damn baby girl, this how you treat me? When all I want is yo’ cute ass?” Zilla said as Genesis scoffed at him.

“Nigga all you want is this coochie which you will never get after what you have done to me.” 

Zilla stood with his hands firmly on his hips, exhaling a deep sigh of exasperation. He longed for Genesis to find a way to overcome her past, yet he recognized that forgetting such a traumatic experience, which had etched deep wounds into her soul, was beyond her reach.

“C’mon now Gigi, you know Jimmy ain’t the right one for you shawty.” 

Genesis scoffed with a sharp laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. “and you think you the right one? Boy if you don’t get the fuck out my face.” Genesis swung open her car door and slid inside, decisively closing it behind her before igniting the engine.

“Gigi, c’mon shawty I was the first one to get yo’ number he wasn’t even thinking about you.” 

“I only gave you my number because you seemed desperate unlike Jimmy who was just himself and didn’t seem desperate like you.” Genesis sped away, leaving Zilla in a state of shock.

She was astonished that this idiot was still on his feet and acting as if nothing had happened after his cousin had pummeled him, all while insisting that Jimmy wasn't the right choice for her—yet deep down, she knew without a doubt that Jimmy was indeed the one for her.

Her affection for him ran far deeper than she ever thought possible, evident in the way he nurtured her well-being and showered her with thoughtful dates and gifts, demonstrating his love and desire to keep her safe.

He fiercely guarded her, particularly from his cousin and her former husband who was allied with Zilla—Jimmy would not hesitate to harm anyone who threatened Genesis.

He did not play about her.

—

As Genesis strolled toward the gorilla position, she arrived just in time to catch the tag team match, spotting Jackie sprinting toward her with a beaming smile.

“Girl! Where have you been? I missed you!” Jackie said while hugging Genesis.

“I told you I had a photoshoot today girl, did I miss anything?” Genesis asked.

"Indeed! What was Trinity doing flirting with Jimmy?" Genesis's face shifted to one of confusion. "What do you mean she was flirting with him?"

Jackie recounted the events that unfolded during her absence at the photoshoot, revealing that Trinity was all over Jimmy—pleading with him to abandon Genesis and choose her instead. She couldn't help but touch his glistening, oiled torso before his match against his twin.

Genesis laughed softly, playfully pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. Was it really possible for her to be free of drama?

“Jimmy did push her away if you wanted to know what he did, he looked so uncomfortable too.” She commented.

“Thanks for telling me this, because imma have to deal with her ass after their match.” Jackie nodded in understanding, sensing that some drama was about to unfold—she and Jackie made their way to the gorilla to catch the match together.

As Genesis shared her photoshoot images with Jackie, her gaze was fixed on the screen, admiring her man who looked incredibly handsome and tempting. However, they were at work, so they had to maintain a professional demeanor.

“Gigi, these are literally beautiful girl, everyone will like your post.” She complimented.

“Yeah, until someone had to come and ruin it. Like can I live my life in peace without drama.” 

“Zilla? He came to the photoshoot? Why?”

Genesis shrugged her shoulders, “because this nigga believes that Jimmy isn’t the right one for me and just wanted me to forget about what he had done to me it just pissed me off.” 

This was never her desire; the turmoil with Zilla and the complications with Trinity felt overwhelming—especially when she was already burdened with Quincy’s nonsense, and now she had to face even more chaos.

“Does Jimmy know?” 

“Nah, he doesn’t but if I tell him. He’s going to be pissed, it's bad enough he wants to kill him and Quincy.”

“I heard he’s in the hospital right now, did he shoot him or something?” Genesis watched intently, her head nodding in approval as she observed Jey land a powerful super kick right to Xavier's face on the screen.

Just as something on the screen captured her attention, she spotted Trinity emerging from the barricade, attempting to divert Jimmy's focus from his match. Jimmy, noticing her, turned around and ran his fingers through his hair, urging her to go away.

Despite his discomfort, she remained unyielding, her hands exploring his body in a way that stirred a complex mix of emotions within Genesis as he gazed down at her.

But was she really going to just sit there and let this girl all over her man? Absolutely not! She sprang up from her seat, striding towards the ringside, ready to confront this woman—oh, and Genesis was more than ready for a showdown today.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Genesis stormed onto the scene, visibly furious, while Trinity stood poised for battle—she had been eagerly anticipating this moment for ages.

“Bitch! What the fuck you got going on!” Genesis shouted.

“I’m just touching on what’s mine that didn’t belong to you in the first place bitch!” Trinity hissed as she charged towards Genesis, and the two clashed in a fierce battle.

Trinity yanked at her hair, unleashing a storm of punches to her face as the crowd roared in excitement. Genesis managed to pin Trinity down, looming over her and pressing her head against the unforgiving floor. With a rapid succession of blows, she hammered Trinity's face, splitting her lip in vengeance for the earlier hits she had endured.

One thing about Genesis she didn’t play when it came to Jimmy.

She rose to her feet, grabbing Trinity by the hair and dragging her around like a ragdoll, delivering punches to her abdomen as she slammed Trinity against the pole, sending her crashing to the ground once more.

Genesis stepped underneath the ring, seized a kendo stick, and advanced toward Trinity, mercilessly striking her repeatedly as Trinity's screams of anguish echoed in the air.

With a sudden crack, the kendo stick splintered, and she seized Trinity by her hair, yanking her upward. In a swift motion, Trinity pulled Genesis down to the ground, and with a fierce stance, she unleashed a devastating kick to Genesis's abdomen, eliciting a wave of pain that contorted her features.

“Stupid bitch! He belongs to me!” Trinity let out an exasperated hiss as she continued to deliver powerful kicks to her own midsection.

At the same time, Jimmy observed the entire scene as Kofi nearly landed a super kick to his face, but he quickly retaliated with a super kick of his own just as Jey tagged him in to confront Xavier.

As Jimmy ascended the turnbuckle, he executed a flawless Samoan drop on Xavier, slamming him onto the mat. Meanwhile, he observed Genesis and Trinity fiercely battling it out. Seizing the moment, Jimmy spotted Xavier rising to his feet and swiftly struck him with the Whisper of the Wind, landing the move with precision.

Ascending the turnbuckle once more, he launched himself at Xavier with his iconic Uso Splash, pinning him to the mat just as the referee counted to three, signaling the victory. They had successfully defended their tag team championship once again, while Jimmy slipped out of the ring to embrace Genesis in a triumphant hold.

With a swift motion, Genesis twisted Trinity's ankle, sending her crashing to the ground with a pained scream. Taking advantage of the situation, Genesis forcefully pinned her down, climbing on top to leave a mark—a bruise and a swollen eye that would serve as a painful reminder of their clash.

“Yo, Yo, CHILL!” Jimmy's powerful voice resonated as he encircled Genesis' waist, effortlessly lifting her away from Trinity while Jey positioned himself between them.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Genesis hollered, still kicking her legs, “get off of me! Lemme’ whoop this bitch ass Jimmy! She had no right!”

With a fierce determination, she broke free from Jimmy's hold, shoving past Jey as she seized Trinity by the hair, forcefully slamming her against the barricade. She relentlessly stomped on her, driving her into the ground repeatedly until Jimmy intervened, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her away.

“Genesis, you proved your point, mama! Look at me!” She halted abruptly, her gaze locked onto his; if looks had the power to slay, he would have perished on the spot, for her eyes were drilling deep into his very essence. “She had no fucking right to be touching you like that.”

Trinity rose from the dirt, disheveled and battered, with a split lip and a blackened eye, muttering curses under her breath and shooting daggers at her opponents, fully aware that a second round was out of the question with Jimmy and Jey watching closely.

As the referees and officials approached the ringside, Jey swiftly intervened, gesturing for them to back off. “we cool over here.” He said smoothly. “We good uce.”

Jimmy guided Genesis into the locker room he shared with Jey, wrapping his arm around her waist, fully aware that she might bolt to complete her task.

He swung the door open, allowing her to step in ahead of him. As he followed, he closed the door and tossed his shirt onto the couch, noticing her casually leaning against the table with her arms crossed.

As Jimmy approached her, he could feel the lingering tension in the air. He gently rested his hands on her hips, and as she gazed into his warm chocolate brown eyes, he leaned in to plant a tender kiss on her neck, causing her to melt into his embrace.

She attempted to maintain her anger and frustration, but his tender, wet kisses trailing from her neck to her jawline melted her resolve, causing her body to surrender to his unexpected affection.

In that moment, she released her embrace, feeling him hoist her by the thighs and carry her to the sofa, where she settled onto his lap, her arms encircling his neck.

He planted soft kisses on her lips, then gently gripped her throat to intensify the kiss. Their tongues entwined passionately as he playfully smacked her left cheek, eliciting a soft whimper from her between their shared breaths.

She despised how he always found a way to soothe her whenever she felt upset or furious, particularly over trivial matters like this, and to make matters worse, he had the audacity to miss her after being absent all day.

“I missed so much mama.” Jimmy murmured between her lips.

“I missed you too.” Genesis murmured back while her fingers were tangled up in his curls.

They pulled away from each other while Jimmy gave her a few more kisses on the lips before glancing up at her smiling. “God, I hate how you can make me calm down because I wanted to beat the fuck out of her.”

He chuckled at her bratty attitude, “I don’t need my baby getting fired at her job over her aight? She ain’t even worth your time mama.” He wasn't mistaken, but she simply couldn't afford to engage with Trinity's nonsense after everything she had already endured today.

However, she was uncertain about revealing to him that Zilla had interrupted her during the shoot today, a fact that Jimmy seemed to already pick up on due to her silence. “What’chu gotta tell me mamas?”

“Damn, how you know I had something to tell you? Can you read my mind or something?”

“Gigi, I’ve known you since you joined this company. I know when something is wrong so what’s up.” She sighed deeply while folding her arms. “Zilla pulled up today at my shoot.”

In an instant, she noticed his smile fade, replaced by a scowl, and she realized that her words had struck a nerve, leaving him visibly upset.

“What? Did he do anything to you?” 

“No, security had dragged him out, but after my shoot he did catch up to me while I was heading towards my car.”

“What he say?”

She sighed, “he said that you weren't the one for me and that I should just forget about what happened between me and him.” Jimmy let out a grim chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, fully aware that his cousin wouldn't grasp the lesson until he was six feet under, resting in a coffin.

“He must’ve forgotten what happened to his ass over at my mamas crib—that fool.” Jimmy said.

“You know he’s not going to stop until I’m with him.” Genesis commented.

“I know, but that won’t happen when I’m around you. He needs to keep it pushing or imma kill him baby you know this.” Genesis was well aware of Jimmy's wild side—she had witnessed him battered and bloodied from his brawls with Zilla, all because of her.

Jimmy hand wrapped around her throat as he pulled her face closer to his, “you know I’m crazy right? I’m crazy about you Gigi.” His voice was hoarse and gravelly, sending chills racing down her spine.

“I know baby, I know that you’re crazy about me.” Jimmy had kissed her lips. “You’re something dangerous mamas.”

“Fool don’t even know how to handle you, or pleasure you like I do baby—he don’t.” He pressed his lips against her neck, gently sucking as Genesis tilted her head to the side, granting him greater access to her warmth.

“J-Jimmy.” She moaned softly.

“C’mere baby.” He turned them over while she reclined on her side on the couch, his knee resting on it as he pulled her skirt off and shifted her panties aside. “Been missing yo’ cute ass all day mama.”

He loosened his belt and slid down his jeans and boxers, revealing his impressive eight-inch erection, glistening with pre-cum at the tip. With his hands firmly grasping Genesis's hips, he thrust himself into her, eliciting a shared moan from both of them.

“O-oh, fuck. Jimmy.”

“Mhm, lemme fuck this pretty pussy out princess.”

jonathanfatu, uceyjucey, biancabelairwwe, and others liked your post.

gigispovv: His Chocolate Dessert 🍨 😘

jonathanfatu: goddamn baby you tryna kill me huh?

gigispovv: @ jonathanfatu maybe 🙃😜

uceyjucey: this picture go harddd sis

rikishi: ❤️❤️

biancabelairwwe: GIRL HELLO THESE ARE EATING? I HOPE U POST SOME MORE

jadecargill: SHES TAKING IT HONEY MY BESTIE BAD ASF

jackieredmond: GIGI LIKE HELLO??

yaonlylivonce: OMG GENESIS GIVE ME A CHANCEEEE 😩😩

jonathanfatu: @ yaonlylivonce aye watch out dawg 😭😭

read all comments.

Genesis and Jimmy enjoyed a leisurely stroll outside Fort Wayne, hand in hand, engaging in conversation. During their walk, they discovered a bench where they paused to take in the beautiful cityscape.

Genesis rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes flicking through her social media feed, watching the likes pour in on her latest post. She felt his hand gently resting on her thigh, drawing her gaze upward to meet his eyes, a smile lighting up her face.

She gazed into his deep chocolate brown eyes, attempting to decipher his expression, but for some inexplicable reason, she found herself unable to do so, which sent a shiver of fear through her. It was as if he had unspoken words lingering on his lips, or thoughts swirling in his mind, waiting to be revealed.

As she averted her eyes from his intense stare, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, prompting a soft chuckle from him.

Jimmy begins to say, “what I can’t look at you?”

“No, you can look at me but don’t be staring for too long it makes me nervous.” Genesis said.

“I make you nervous baby?” He asked.

“Yes, all the time whenever I’m near you.” She said.

Jimmy acknowledged the power he held over her emotions, a power his cousin lacked, as the latter sought only to satisfy his own desires.

“The view is nice and the breeze feels great out here.”

Yeah, ion wanna leave here honestly. They have some good food down here.”

“Fat ass.” Genesis playfully elbowed him as he locked her in a headlock, teasingly ruffling her hair with his knuckles while she protested with a whine. “Oh my fucking god you asshole.” 

With a burst of determination, she wriggled free from the headlock, eager to turn the tables and ensnare him in one of her own for some sweet revenge. However, her plan quickly unraveled as he effortlessly tossed her over his shoulders, spinning her around in a playful whirl while she called out his name in a mix of surprise and delight.

She flailed her legs like a playful child, striking his shoulders and pleading for him to cease, as dizziness began to overwhelm her.

“Okay, okay, Jimmy! Okay!” She hollered.

He halted the twirling, gently setting her back on her feet while keeping a firm grip on her waist to steady her—her vision was blurred, prompting her to shut her eyes momentarily to gather her senses before reopening them to meet his gaze.

Jimmy gazed at her stunning figure from top to bottom, his lips moist and shimmering under the soft glow of the streetlight. “You’re so pretty mamas, so fucking pretty.” He complimented.

“You’re handsome too, fine at that like phew lord.” He chuckled at her softly while keeping his hands on her hips. “I do have a surprise for you though.”

“You know I’m actually scared of your surprises, but now I’m curious.” Jimmy reached into his jeans pocket and retrieved a tiny pink velvet box. Its size led Genesis to believe it contained a necklace or some trinket, but as he opened it and knelt before her, her heart raced with anticipation.

Inside the box, she discovered a stunning double band ring. Uncertain of his intentions for the evening, she sensed that this was no ordinary surprise; it was something truly unique and extraordinary.

“You know I love you right?” Jimmy said.

She nodded her head.

“But this type of love between us has been so good and I started to realize how deeply in love I am with you Gigi.” Her heart froze at those familiar words—the very ones Quincy had spoken during his proposal. But in that moment, she understood that Jimmy was not Quincy; he was an entirely different man altogether.

“I think about you all day and every single night when you are not near me mamas—you're like a drug that I needed and I cannot let that go.” He gently grasped her hand, removing the promise ring he had gifted her for her birthday, and replaced it with the elegant double band rings nestled inside the box.

The double band ring on her finger sparkled in the light, a beautiful distraction as she struggled to contain her emotions.

“I want you to be mine, mine forever baby. Lemme heal yo’ scars if you let me Gigi.” All she ever desired was for someone to sweep her off her feet and mend the scars she had been struggling to heal alone for so long, and Jimmy was the perfect person to do just that.

In mere moments, she sensed her feelings fading, her eyes glazing over as she nodded. Jimmy rose from his knees and enveloped her in a tight embrace, while she wept into his chest, soaking his shirt with her tears.

Jimmy gently caressed her hair, planting a soft kiss on her head as he reassured her of his unwavering support, vowing to protect her from anyone who might try to interfere—he was the one who would mend her wounds and alleviate the burdens she carried.

He wished for her to be more forthcoming, to seek him out whenever she felt the need for support, rather than retreating to solitude to weep when he was right there to comfort her.

“I’m right here Gigi, you mine until I marry you.” Jimmy cooed at her.

With her clumped lashes glistening and her eyes swollen from tears, she gazed up at him, prompting him to gently brush the tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

He planted a lingering, gentle kiss on her lips, and as she noticed the sheen of her lip gloss now adorning his, a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just got my lip gloss on your lips honey.” 

Jimmy pressed his lips together before leaning in for another kiss, craving more. Genesis responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as it turned slow and passionate, his tongue gently exploring her mouth in a swirling dance.

Her fingers wove through his tousled curls as his hands glided down to cradle her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze—she could sense the warmth of his saliva mingling with hers, creating a slick sensation in their mouths.

She sensed his rigid arousal pressing against her through the fabric of his jeans, fully aware of the impact she had on him.

“You drive me crazy mamas.” He murmured between her lips.

“You do too Jimmy.” She murmured back.

She drew back from him, showering his neck with soft, lingering kisses, prompting him to clutch her curves more firmly as she lifted his shirt, trailing her warm, wet kisses down his torso until she knelt before him, teasingly tugging at his waistband.

“Damn, out here baby? You’re so nasty.” 

As she loosened his belt, she slid down his jeans and boxers, revealing his impressive eight-inch member that playfully smacked against her face. With a teasing flick of her tongue, she wrapped it around his shaft, playfully tapping it against her taste buds.

Just before she could savor the moment, she started to apply the tip, which was dripping with pre-cum, onto her lips, smearing it like a glossy lip balm, while Jimmy gently held her chin, looking down into her wide, innocent eyes.

“You gon’ eat this dick up baby?” 

She kissed the tip of his cock, “yes daddy, imma eat up so good.” 

Again this is the type of shit that he loved her freaky side it just did something to him bringing that out of her, “c’mon then, suck this dick up baby. This yo’ dick mama.” She began to stroke him in a steady rhythm before enveloping him with her mouth, causing him to arch his back in pure bliss as she kept her eyes locked on him.

Genesis moved her head in a rhythmic motion, her fingers gliding up and down his shaft while her tongue teasingly traced the tip, relishing the delightful sounds of his moans as she reveled in her power.

With one hand entwined in her hair, he sensed Genesis pulling him further in, battling to keep his hips from instinctively thrusting, completely consumed by the ecstasy of the experience.

He experienced her hand gripping him while her tongue danced along his shaft, tightening his thighs in response to the sensation. She continued her oral delight, briefly gagging, but soon adjusted her throat to accommodate him more fully.

She enveloped him with her mouth, experiencing a slight struggle as waves of intense pleasure surged through her. Her tongue glided over his length, causing him to shudder and quiver with ecstasy.

“Hmm, fuck gigi. sucking this dick so good mamas.” A low, rumbling moan escaped his lips as Genesis's fingers glided under his hoodie, tracing every contour of his chest.

“Keep touching me baby, I’m all yours.” 

Genesis felt a pulsating desire coursing through her, her arousal creating a warm pool that soaked her panties. With a deft movement, she shifted her panties aside and began to caress her sensitive folds in gentle, circular motions.

As Jimmy looked down, he saw her indulging in her own pleasure while satisfying him, and the sight ignited a fire within him, prompting him to thrust his hips, driving himself deeper into her mouth.

“Keep playing with that pussy mamas, lemme fuck yo’ throat baby.” Jimmy grunted as he thrust deeply into her throat, making her gag once more. “Relax it baby, relax yo’ throat for me mamas.”

She inhaled deeply through her nose, loosening the tension in her throat as he pressed further inside her, eliciting a loud groan from him while Genesis caressed her intimate areas.

As he continued to push deeper into her mouth, Genesis kept her eyes shut, avoiding his gaze. This only made him clutch her hair more firmly. "Look at me, Gigi. I want to see how much you enjoy this, baby," he urged. She finally opened her eyes, innocence shining through as she swirled her tongue around his tip.

“Mhmm, just like that mama. Fuck you look so pretty like this.” Genesis parted her lips more, allowing him to find a better angle within the inviting warmth of her mouth.

He pushed deeper into her mouth, letting drool spill from her lips to the floor as their eyes locked. He could feel her cheeks sink in and her tongue explore him, prompting him to throw his head back in ecstasy.

As he thrust deeper into her throat, almost reaching a limit, Jimmy bit his lip and gazed down at her with intense, desire-filled eyes. He adjusted her head to alter the angle, then drove his hips forward, gliding along the contour of her throat.

Genesis was rhythmically tightening and loosening her grip, her eyes rolling back as she sensed the slickness of her own arousal glistening on her fingers.

She took him in her mouth, feeling a thrilling mix of pleasure and discomfort as she struggled to accommodate him. The sensation intensified as his fullness pressed against her throat, prompting her to relax and let him slide deeper, the weight of him resting against her chin.

In the stillness of the night, with no one to witness, his low moans and vulgar words echoed softly, but neither he nor she seemed to mind the solitude.

“Nasty slut baby, so fucking nasty. This dick was made for you princess. You gon’ get this nut up?” He grunted as Genesis nodded her head obeying him.

Genesis quickened her movements, her fingers dancing within her as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her in mere moments.

Jimmy found a captivating rhythm as he thrust into her throat, chasing his pleasure, and the delightful sound of her gurgling around him brought a satisfied smirk to his lips.

She inhaled deeply through her nose to steady herself as Jimmy took her from behind. She focused on loosening her throat, aware that each involuntary clench only heightened his desire.

She repeatedly plunged her fingers in and out of her slick core, stimulating her g-spot with each motion, all while her thoughts were consumed by him in this moment.

As he forcefully thrust into her throat, Genesis experienced an overwhelming sensation of desire, her core pulsating and yearning for his caress. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, and drool trickled onto her chest as she continued to pleasure herself with her fingers.

It was a captivating scene as she overwhelmed herself right before his eyes. "Hmm, look at you, princess. About to make quite the mess, aren't you?" he teased, feeling his arousal pulse within her mouth.

She teetered on the edge of liberation as he forcefully thrust into her throat, his body tensing and pausing when he felt beads of sweat rolling down his face. Her throat became the perfect vessel for his desires, exclusively his.

“Fuck, lemme paint that fucking pretty ass face mamas.” 

With a final thrust, she plunged her fingers deep within herself as he drove into her, forcing his length further down her throat while withdrawing, releasing streams of his essence across her face, mingling with her own pleasure that erupted all over her.

As her essence trickled down her thigh, he adorned her face with his warmth, sending shivers through her body and leaving her legs quaking. He ensured every drop was released before gently assisting Genesis to her feet.

“You nasty as fuck baby look at you.” Jimmy cooed at her.

“Only for you daddy.” Genesis replied.

—

In the cozy confines of his hotel room, Jimmy and Genesis lay side by side on the bed, a rare moment of intimacy as Genesis peacefully dozed on his chest, while Jimmy absentmindedly scrolled through TikTok on his phone.

As he was engaged in that task, a text from his twin brother popped up, prompting him to check what had occurred.

Twin⚡️: Yo you up twin?

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: yeah I’m up what’s up?

Twin⚡️: did you make her yo girlfriend or what dawg?

Jimmy let out a soft laugh as he looked at Genesis, then shifted his gaze back to his messages.

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: yeah fool we official dawg 😭

Twin⚡️: see I should’ve known yall two was going to be together since that night at the club during that truth or dare game but yall was doing shi on the low 😭

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: that’s bc we wanted to keep things low key we still gonna do that ion need folks in our business 

Twin⚡️: well except for me and Jade ofc 

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: dawg go to bed twin

Twin⚡️: I’m playing twin but nah fr tho she the one?

From the instant Cody made the introduction, Jimmy felt an undeniable connection with her; he was certain Genesis was meant for him, regardless of his cousin Zilla's opinions.

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: yeah, she’s the one 

Twin⚡️: what about Zilla and Quincy?

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: if they stand in my way or in our way imma have to kill em twin you know this 

Twin⚡️: ik ik im just saying I gotchu and Gigi if anything pops off knowing how crazy yo ass is

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: I’m only crazy when it’s about Genesis and I don’t need his ass tryna start some shi up

Twin⚡️: shiii he might after hearing the news tho that’s all I’m saying especially with him having Quincy around 

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: mane Idgaf how mad he’s gonna be it was his fault for being desperate for her when she didn’t even find him interesting 😭😭

Twin⚡️: true true but imma head to sleep now twin I’ll see yall in the morning 

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: aight then twin

Jimmy switched off his phone and set it down on the mini dresser beside him, letting it charge as he settled into bed next to Genesis, who was stirring in her sleep.

He drew her nearer, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, then graced her with a warm smile. As his eyes began to flutter, he closed them softly, surrendering to the embrace of sleep.

While Genesis lay asleep in bed, her phone buzzed incessantly beside her, but the sound went unnoticed as they slumbered on, the ringing persisting until it finally ceased.

Unknown Number has sent a voicemail.

‘You fucking bitch! You dating my cousin now? How long did it take him to ask you to be with him huh? Even though yall were doing shit on the low for folks to not even know—imma fucking kill him and then imma do whatever I want to yo’ ass because you belong to me! Me! Damn it! Can’t believe he stole you away from me!’

Unknown Number: YOU BELONG TO ME GENESIS NOT HIM, YOU'RE MINE ALL MINE HOW CAN HE JUST SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET LIKE THAT?

Unknown Number: I BET HE DIDNT EVEN FUCK YOU YET HUH? I BET HE DIDNT BEAT THAT PUSSY UP I JUST KNOW HE DIDNT—CODY SHOULDVE MINDED HIS FUCKING BUSINESS AND LET ME FINISH THE JOB I COULDVE BEEN IN ALLAT BUT NO

Unknown Number: WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU—YOU WONT BE ABLE TO ESCAPE FROM ME NOT EVEN JIMMY CAN SAVE YOU BABYGIRL WATCH ME

jonathanfatu, americannightmarecody, jadecargill, and others liked your post.

gigispovv: Peakaboo made it official with my ride or die 🤍💍

jonathanfatu: fuckkkk Genesis, can’t believe this is all mine right here damn 😫😫

gigispovv: @ jonathanfatu all yours baby 🩷

biancabelairwwe: OH BITCH YOU IS EATIN BRO 

jadecargill: FINALLY I GOT TIRED OF YALL TWO BEING SNEAKY HOE😭😭

gigispovv: @ jadecargill BYE BITCH😭😭

uceyjucey: okayyy i see you sis 🫶🏼

americannightmarecody: IS THAT MY BEST FRIEND???

jackieredmond: OUUU GIRL YOU IS SO PRETTY LIKE JIMMY IS LUCKY ASF

rikishi: my beautiful daughter in law ❤️‍

yaonlylivonce: OH GENESIS IM ON MY KNEES BITCH TELL JIMMY TO MOVE OUT THE WAY

jonathanfatu: @ yaonlylivonce chill dawg chill 

read all comments.

GUARDED.

a/n: they’re officially together 🙂‍↕️ I’m so happy honestly that’s his ride or die right there and Zilla is not to happy about the news but oh well 😭😭

I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[tkomptgoedluv]

revenge.

tear you apart pt.2

pt.1 here | pt.2

grumpycafeworkervampire! joost x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, internetcafe & vampire au, reader doesn’t know how to cope very well, joost’s heart is too big for his body, they’re both desperate to be the other one’s peace, so much hurt, possibly even more comfort, plenty of angst, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 8,489.

warnings: very detailed descriptions of blood and self harm, descriptions of an un-specific mental illness, semi-heavy stalking, breaking and entering, mentions of gore, brief mentions of violence + abuse, rpf.

notes: hello my lovelies <3 thank you so much for being so patient with this one! it’s not only the longest fic that i’ve ever written, but also genuinely my pride and absolute joy. i fear that i might not ever be able to top this one, actually, so please enjoy it! just keep in mind that this fic comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING.

also once again, a big big shoutout to my BABY @joosthead for putting up with me constantly asking her to check the doc every time that i added something. please go check out her work if you haven’t already — she’s got some mad shit coming 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

you never really were too good at knowing when to stop, were you?

it’s always been easy for you to get lost in it, lost in the feeling of your old razor blades carving line after line into your skin. once you started, you just had to keep going until you physically couldn’t. not until you’d get too dizzy to focus, until you just couldn’t quite keep your grip tight enough on the razor anymore.

you never learned how to cope any other way; since you were fifteen, it had been your default. cutting yourself up whenever you started to feel too much, or whenever levi would push you too far. as a kid, it was more of a punishment but with him, it was your way of controlling all the pain that you felt.

that’s why you’d done it again, why it’s been the only thing that you’ve managed to do over the past five days or so. you were trying to control things, trying to come to terms with what you had seen and all the big feelings that came right along with it.

you’d spent so long wishing him away — daydreaming of all the terrible things that could happen so you’d finally be free of him. you never actually thought that it would happen, though. that you’d witness your own boyfriend get ripped apart limb from limb; devoured as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat.

you hated that some sick and twisted part of you deep down, missed him. that you just couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was gone now. and you hated that when it came to joost, you weren’t quite sure what you felt. for less than a fucking hour he’d been the closest thing to friend that you’d had in years, but then he’d gone and done that and —

blood dripped down from your wrists, the tops of your arms, and your thighs, and onto the dirty white tiles of your bathroom floor. you’d never gotten this carried away before, and you had made such a mess of it. all the cleaning up would have to be done tomorrow because right now you doubted that you’d even be able to stand.

at least you weren’t feeling quite so much anymore; only the stinging of each and every single one of the fresh cuts. it all hurt, but it was a better thing to feel than the guilt that had kept you confined inside the walls of your own home for so long. you couldn’t help but wonder if you would die here, alone and bleeding on your bathroom floor, or if the police would find you before you’d get the chance to.

you’ve seen bits and pieces of what his friends had been saying online— knew that they wanted to report levi as a missing person now. you wondered how long it would be before the police would come for you, either looking for him or his killer. then again, you weren’t actually sure if there was even a body left behind for them to find.

finally, after god knows how many, you put the razor blade down. it clattered against the linoleum and laid still in one of the few small pools of your own blood. honestly, you were a little proud of what you had done to yourself, even though it still felt like it wasn’t enough. 

in a daze, you just sat there quietly as the time passed, as the blood slowly began to dry. you weren’t entirely sure of the time but it had to have been late from how dark it was outside. your phone was somewhere in your flat, having died a while ago after you neglected to charge it for a few days, but it’s time probably would’ve read something like one or two o’clock in the morning.

no one had been by to check on you, not that you had expected them to, especially not at a time like this, so you jumped when you heard a knock at your front door. silence rang out as you waited, too afraid to move, until you finally heard another one. only then did you get up.

it was with wobbly legs that you limped your way out of the bathroom and through your hallway, your heart hammering away inside your chest. you tried to peer out through your front room windows as you hobbled over to the door, certain that you’d see flashing blue lights or the silhouette of a police officer waiting for you on your doorstep.

but as you opened your front door just an inch, barely wide enough to peak your head around outside, all you saw was nothing. no cars going past, no people wandering by, nothing.

for just a moment, you could have laughed. because this was it now, surely; your breaking point. all that guilt, all of that paranoia — it was finally driving you mad. 

the old hinges of your door squeaked as you went to close it again, turning on your heels as you did so. you glanced up as one of the floorboard creaked from behind you, the gloss in your eyes only slightly blurring the sight of him standing right there, somehow.

you went to scream, a high pitched, blood-curdling shriek right on the rip of your tongue when his hand came up to cup your mouth shut. he knocked you back into the door, slamming it shut as his entire body weight came down to have you pinned against it. you could feel just how hard he was shaking as he held you there, see how those big, panicked eyes of his were flickering between blue and red.

“no no no, please, please don’t scream. i’m not gonna hurt you.”

joost was frantic as he spoke, almost choking on each of his words, begging for you to keep quiet. no matter how desperately you were trying to fight against him, your nails clawing at his chest through his shirt as you fought to get him off of you, you weren’t going anywhere. the more that you struggled, the harder his grip on you got.

you had no way of knowing it yet, but this was killing him. seeing you so small like this, crying out, sobbing, against his hand as you used what little strength you had left to try and push him away — it was undoubtedly going to haunt him. 

he knew that he shouldn't be here, not really. he shouldn’t know where you live, shouldn’t have followed you home that one night a couple months ago. it was just that there had been an attack in your city that week; some poor girl found dead in an alleyway, all bloody and beaten, barely clothed. he’d already had your routine memorised by then, so he knew that you’d be making your way back from the cafe alone, in the middle of the night.

joost had just wanted to protect you, he’d just wanted to make sure that you weren’t about to become the next headline in the local newspaper. at least, that was what he had told himself as he’d stayed hidden away in the shadows, his head down low and hood pulled up as he’d ‘escorted’ you home without you ever knowing it.

sure, it had definitely crossed some lines, him sneaking out of the cafe’s back door after you’d left that night to follow you, but the alternative was worse, right?

that’s what all this came down to, really. his insatiable need to know that you were safe. because last week, you’d ran from him that night with marks on your arm that your boyfriend hadn’t been the one to put there. and you’d ran from him, no less, scared out of your mind at the mere sight of him as he’d stood there pleading with you to stay.

and joost couldn’t stand that.

everyone else could view him as a monster and treat him as such, but not you.

never you. 

that was the only reason why he’d ended up on your doorstep tonight. he needed to know that you were okay, that you were still alive, and that you understood that what he had done to levi, he would never, ever, do to you. 

it was never his plan to ‘invite’ himself in the way that he had. he was going to knock on your door and wait for you to answer it, and he was prepared to spend the rest of the night out there, reasoning with you to just hear him out if he had to. and if by the end of it all you were to still cast him out with the promise of never wanting to see him again, he’d find a way to live with it. just as long as you’d be okay; he’d live with it.

it was never his plan to get to the top of your street and already be able to smell it. the thick, sweet, iron-heavy smell of your blood already so strong that he was gagging by the time he made it to your doorstep. hunched over and heaving, he’d stumbled up to your front door, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths through his mouth before finally knocking. it took everything in him, every little last bit of willpower, not to turn right then and there.

“lieverd, it’s okay. i promise it’s okay; i’m just here to talk. you…you don’t have to fight me.”

even as you were still thrashing, joost leant down to rest his forehead against yours. his eyes bore into yours as they continued to flash between the two different colours, a few tears of his own welling up behind his waterline. the last time that you were up this close, close enough to see the sweat shining on his temples, you were grasping onto his arm in such a feeble attempt to hide yourself from who you thought to be the only monster in the room.

the one whose blood you’d later seen dripping down from in between joost’s fingers, as he’d clutched onto his heart like a trophy.

he should be the real monster to you — a small part of you even wanted him to be. as terrible as levi truly was, he’d never bitten the head off of anyone, never ripped a heart straight out of someone’s chest. he was just…levi. he was your boyfriend and you hated him, but you never wanted him to die.

there was a bigger part inside of you, though, one that twisted up at the thought of joost being anything like one of the ‘bad guys’ from your old bedtime stories. because despite everything that you’d seen, despite how he’d found out where you lived, somehow, and now had you pinned up against your own front door with his hand holding your mouth shut, you knew that he wasn’t. he wasn’t evil, wasn’t dangerous like how your boyfriend had been, and you knew that. you just didn’t quite know it yet.

still, you began to relax. whether it was by choice or because you simply didn’t have any fight left in you anymore, you weren’t entirely sure. your whole body felt as though it was on fire from how several of your cuts had ripped open slightly from your struggle. small spots of blood started to seep through the thin, white cotton of your shorts as you almost went limp against joost; your eye-contact unbreaking. 

there was just something about the way in which he was looking at you. it was the exact same one he gave you that night last week, when he was desperately trying to convince you not to go back home to levi. his hands had been cupping each one of your cheeks, his warm breath fanning across your face as he panted. seeing that same look on him now, it was enough for you.

joost had felt you start to ease, had heard the fast beating of your heart start to slow. his grip on your mouth loosened as he gently wiped away the wet from your face with his free hand, tucking the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes.

“i’m gonna let you go now, okay? then we can talk?”

you nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes.

as he held back a breath, joost finally moved his hand away from your mouth and took a single step back — allowing you just enough space to stand up on your own. he still hadn’t looked away from your face, his eyes stuck on yours as he searched your features for any signs of fear, any signs that you were about to turn and run. 

but instead you seemed…calm. still very much in shock; your hands still very much trembling as you wrapped your arms around your middle. but you were calm enough to stand your ground and not shrink underneath his gaze. you didn’t flinch when both of his hands came up to cup either side of your jaw, the pads of his thumbs caressing along the skin.

“are-are you okay? i’ve not seen you in…i thought that maybe you had…”

he couldn’t quite find it in him to finish his sentence. it wasn’t like he needed to, you already knew exactly what he was talking about, and now it all started to make sense. 

that look in his eyes, the way his voice kept shaking every time that he spoke. he was here because he was scared, terrified even, that you’d done something to yourself. that night you’d told him, more rather shown him your secret so he knew what you were capable of now, and it had been driving him mad ever since you disappeared.

you hadn’t needed to say anything; the way you suddenly pulled yourself away from him had said enough. in all of the chaos he hadn’t thought to simply look down. if he had, he would have seen all the damage you’ve already done; every single one of the fresh cuts that you’ve given yourself tonight and all of the ones from the nights before. the old vest top and pyjama shorts that you were wearing weren’t hiding anything — from your shoulders down to your shins, he could see everything now that he had finally dropped his gaze.

with his head down, you couldn’t see his face but you could feel the way he tensed up. you could hear him sniff, cough, and swallow down the bile that was rising up in his throat as he stumbled back a few steps.

you were still bleeding. 

it was making his teeth ache.

neither of you said anything for a while. you stood frozen by the door, your arms still wrapped around yourself as he just stared blankly at you with tears running down his cheeks. 

he felt sick; sickened by the very thing he’d been so afraid of now staring at him right back in the face. he couldn’t stand the sight of it but couldn’t bring himself to look away, either — there was just so much red. long, neat lines of red that covered you almost completely from head to toe; no patch of skin left unmarked. it was vile, it was abhorrent, it was breaking his heart.

“why?”

that was all joost could muster. a pathetic, broken question as he tried so desperately to pull himself back together. 

“i…i don’t know.” you paused only to wipe your teary eyes on the back of your hand. “i never know what else to do when i feel like this; it’s just been hard, joost -”

you trailed off, quickly losing your train of thought when you heard him sob all of a sudden. you hadn’t seen him start to crack because you’d been staring down at your feet, suddenly feeling too shy to meet his eyes. except now he was the one trying to hide, his arm coming up to cover his face as he cried hard enough to make his shoulders bounce.

he repeated ‘i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.’ like a mantra in between shallow gasps of breath and hiccups.

he was blaming himself for this because how could he not? all those cuts along your skin; you might have been the one behind the blade but he had been the one to do it. he’d been the one to scar you like this. that one irreversible act of his that he prayed would keep you safe had pushed you to an edge that he feared he wouldn’t be able to pull you back from. 

it wasn’t even his responsibility to, not really. he didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, either. still, he found himself loving you in a way that didn’t make any sense. 

and you loved him too, didn’t you? in a way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around because of course you did. you proved that to both yourself and to him by how you finally moved from your spot by the door just so you could take his hands and pry his arms away from his face. you let him engulf you, cradling you close to his chest as he cried into your shoulder because you knew that he needed it.

you didn’t know who he was or even what he was, but you knew that he wasn’t something to truly fear. deep down you knew that you loved him in such an awfully twisted way, and you knew that he needed to feel you just to know that you weren’t going anywhere. 

joost was still spilling out his apologies as you tried so hard to soothe him. you felt him shiver under your touch when you let your hands slip underneath the hem of his t-shirt to rub the hot skin of his sides, your soft little whispered assurances filling his ear. 

it wasn’t his fault, nor was it levi’s or anyone else’s. you were like this long before he’d ever set his eyes on you and a part of you had already accepted that you always will be. the very last thing that you wanted was for it to be a burden someone else had to carry, let alone somebody like joost.

“you didn’t do this, okay? it’s alright. i’m gonna be alright.”

maybe it was cruel of you to try and calm him with words that even you didn’t fully believe in. what you had done to yourself only an hour ago, only you would ever be to blame for it, but you didn’t know if you were going to be alright in the end. you were still a witness to what he’d done and you were still doomed to live with the guilt of that.

“you don’t need to apologise for what i’ve done; you know that this is what i do. it’s not your fault.”

“but i fucked up, lieverd.”  joost shuddered as he sucked in a sharp breath, sniffing. “i fucked up and i did this to you; you did it because of me.”

you hushed him, carefully stepping back just enough so that you had the room to cradle either side of his neck in your hands, urging him to look back at you. as soon as he did, you could see that his eyes were back to being just their usual sweet blue, nothing else.

“i did it because i was scared, joost. i didn’t know what else to do.”

“what, scared of me?”

his question was more like a punch to the gut than anything else. for just a moment it knocked the air out of you; left you winded and with no idea on how to go about answering it. truthfully, the answer was yes, but also no, because it was never actually him that you were so afraid of.

you were just afraid of what he did; what you know joost is truly capable of now. you were afraid of the part of you that was almost relieved to see levi suffer what he did, knowing that it meant that he wouldn’t be able to hurt you anymore. but again, you never wanted him to die. you never wanted to see him get torn apart, piece by piece.

joost whimpered out your name when you didn’t answer and instead just stood there with your mouth slightly agape. your lack of an actual, verbal answer was an answer in itself, really, and he knew that; knew that you were probably just too scared and too kind to tell him the truth. still he needed to hear you say it though, purely for his own sake, he needed to hear you say that he wasn’t just another monster to you.

but the longer that he waited, the weaker his knees started to feel. he kind of fell into you, in a way, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck as your arms came up to hold him against you. his hot tears ran down your skin and pooled together in the dip of your collarbone and it was right then that your own eyes started to burn. 

slipping out from his grasp, you wordlessly led him by the hand over to your sofa. you watched him collapse onto it as you took a seat next to him, his elbows rested on his knees as his head hung low in between them. his shoulders were still shaking and you could still hear each of the muffled cries that were spilling from his lips.

“please, please, believe me, lieverd. what i did…i never wanted it to hurt you. i’m so sorry.”

you curled yourself into a tight little ball and let out a long, deep breath, one that you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. you had questions; so, so many questions that had been festering, growing like mould in the back of your head. and joost could almost feel you holding them back as he looked up at you with such watery eyes, the only red in them being the sore, puffy rings around them.

“ask me anything, whatever you wanna know.”

“why did you do it?”

there was no emotion in your voice and you kept your face blank as you spoke — it was only the slight quiver of your bottom lip that gave you away.

“he was going to hurt you, schatje.” 

“but how…how were you even…?”

it had happened decades ago, back when internet cafes were still just your average libraries and when only the rich could afford to have their own mobile phones. 

joost had been young, living off the high of infamy and adoration that came with being in one of the best punk bands in the scene at the time. him and his friends, they’d been something of local legends; for good and for bad, it just depended on who you asked. those that loved them deemed them god-like in their old denim and rusted chains, and those that hated them, simply feared them.

he’s not proud of it, how they spent day after day rotting away in a garage, doing whatever drugs they could get their hands on and writing songs just to spend night after night playing shows at only the worst bars they could find. how they’d get even more off their faces afterwards and start fights, smashing up the venues and spray-painting anarchy symbols anywhere and everywhere that they could. how if the night didn’t end with them running away from the cops then it would end with them in the bed of anything with a pretty face, two legs, and a heartbeat.

and then what was supposed to be the best night of the band’s life, the biggest show they’d ever played to a crowd that already knew all the words to their songs, became nothing more than the beginning of the end. it’d happened after they’d all really outdone themselves, whilst those so-called ‘friends’ of his that only ever brought out the worst of him were all passed out somewhere, and joost had decided to go out for a little wander. 

still to this day, he can’t remember the face of who had jumped him. the alleyway had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to even know where he was, so all that truly stuck with him was the agony of it all. the searing pain of a pair of fangs plunging deep into the side of his neck, the gradual, stinging cold he’d felt as the life was almost all but drained from him. whoever it was, they’d left him there to die afterwards — still to this day, a part of him wishes that he had. 

waking up that next morning something so much worse than human, consumed by an appetite so uncontrollable that he just couldn’t help himself when he came across that lone jogger whilst on his way back to his friends. surely it had to have been worse than death. he’d torn that poor guy to shreds as if it was nothing, as if he was just pulling chicken off the bone. 

but he hadn’t stopped there, had he? he couldn’t, he didn’t know how to. even after he’d shown up on his drummer’s doorstep covered in blood and crying his eyes out, he had to keep going, keep feeding. because joost wasn’t too good at knowing when to stop, either, was he?

it had taken him years to figure it out, actually. years of mindless, reckless slaughter to realise that he actually hated what he was now, and that his ‘friends’ weren’t ever really his friends. from the moment he’d shown up that day, all stained red and babbling about the man he’d just killed, the band played him like a puppet simply because they knew that they could.

regardless of the change, he was still joost. they knew that it really wouldn’t take much to get inside of his head, to spin whatever that had happened to him into something almost profitable for them all. and it hadn’t, because everything they had him do was always ‘for the band’, so really, how could he have said no? 

besides, he would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t come to enjoy it, after a while. seeing the life drain from their eyes as they’d beg for mercy, pleading with him, promising him that they’d do whatever he wanted if he’d just let them go. he’d always laugh then, before sinking his teeth into their throats. 

and it helped that these people also happened to be nobodies, too. from shitty bar owners that wouldn’t let them play to members of a rival band that had just gotten a little too cocky for their own good. no one ever missed them, most hardly noticed that they were gone.

joost was never a monster to them, to the band, just an over-glamorised attack dog that could do a lot more than just bite.

it had taken him far too many years to realise it.

“that’s how i ended up with the cafe…i wanted to get away; i didn’t want to be like that anymore.” he paused only to gauge your reaction, or more so your lack of one. you hadn’t said a word the entire time, hadn’t flinched or pulled a face; you had barely even blinked. 

“what did you do with the body?…his body?”

the sudden sound of your voice, it made him glance back up at you with a small quiver in his lip. you were still staring blankly at the wall ahead, your expression borderline unreadable, but your words hadn’t cracked and your hands weren’t shaking anymore, either.

“i know some people that are…like me; they handled it.” when you fell quiet again, joost continued, wiping the snot from his nose as he did so. “i’ve done a lot of bad things, lieverd. what i did to levi, fuck, that’s not even the worst of it. you should be scared of me; i’m scared of me.”

“i’m not.” 

“why?”

“because if you were still the monster that you think you are, i wouldn’t have even made it halfway out the door that night.” 

after only another moment or two of silence had passed did you finally look down to meet his eyes again. whilst there was a shine in yours that definitely matched his own, there was something so soft about the way you were gazing at him. it made the muscles beneath his shoulders relax and drop down as he breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.

you didn’t need to elaborate any further, didn’t need to say anything else to prove to him that you knew he wasn’t that person anymore. he could tell simply from the hint of a smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth. from how it was with careful, delicate movements that you moved to crawl onto his lap and hugged him, nuzzling your face into the curve of his neck.

the large, warm palms of joost’s hands slid underneath the cotton of your tank top and soothed the cool skin of your spine as he rested his head against yours. instead of asking how you were even real, how someone so undeniably good was able to look past each and every single one of his sins, he kept quiet to let the last few tears of his fall.

but if he had in fact asked, then you would’ve told him that truly, you couldn’t hold any of it against him. 

of course it was all awful, from the countless faces he’d torn apart to the people that he terrorised even before the change. your skin had been crawling as joost had spoken and you just couldn’t ignore the fact that anyone else in your position probably would’ve taken off running by now. that, and that they’d have every right to.

except you weren’t just anyone, were you? as far as you were concerned, those old so-called ‘friends’ of his were the real monsters, because you of all people knew what it was like to be hurt by those you trusted most. to have someone so deep inside your mind that you quickly became blind to everything else. you couldn’t hold it against him because in your heart, you got it. you could feel that, that wasn’t who joost was anymore.

“can you stay tonight? for a little while?”

you felt his hands trail down to the side of your hips and squeeze as you pulled away just enough to see his face, your own two hands falling down to rest against his stomach.

“i’ll stay for as long as you want me to, schatje. i’m here.” 

being on the brink of almost giddiness as you nodded, that small smile of yours twisting up into an almost grin, you hadn’t realised how his fingers were starting to roam. that his hands were gently moving around, rubbing up and down the flesh of your waist until they reached the very front of your hips. 

you hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been able to take hold of his wrists to stop him before the soft pads of his thumbs could find the aching, bumpy lines of the cuts you’d put there a few days ago. as you froze, you watched his own sweet smile drop and his eyebrows furrow, and felt him slowly lift up the hem of your top just enough to see the true extent of it.

even in the low light of your living room, even if his eyesight wasn’t as unnaturally good as it was, he still wouldn’t have been able to miss it. just like the rest of you was, the tight skin of your stomach and all the way across to your hips were marked with the same harsh, red gashes. most were scabbed over but a couple were sprouting fresh drops of blood from where you’d been moving around so much, pulling them apart at the seams.

you went to stand and then tried to simply twist yourself away when you couldn’t, but even then joost’s hold on you was too strong. his touches were feather-soft as he traced the tips of his fingers along every single one, following them down to the ones on your things and then back up along the ones on your arms. by the time that he reached your eyes again they were already scrunched up closed, hiding from him.

“because of me.”

it was more of a statement than a question, partly because he already knew the answer, and partly because he knew that you’d still deny it if he asked.

“joost -”

“- you have a first aid kid somewhere, right? lemme help.”

you shook your head as you went to tug your vest top back down, only to freeze when you finally caught a glimpse of all the little spots of blood that had seeped through your clothes. you stopped and stared at them for longer than you meant to, your hands trembling as you toyed with the material between your fingers. 

the blood was always your favourite part. how it would slowly peek through the small breaks in your skin before oozing out, running down your body until the drops would fall and hit the floor. it had a way of hypnotising you every single time, making you want to keep going and going just so you could see it happen over again and again. even now, when the tiny red polka dots were nothing more than just a few sticky stains on your top, turning the tips of your fingers a deep pink.

it took joost gently prying your hands away for you to snap out of it. 

“n-no, no, i can’t let you do that. it wouldn’t be fair, not when there’s so much blood and you’re…”

“i’ll be fine, lieverd, i promise.”  you felt him give your hands a soft squeeze as he paused, “let me help you.”

there was no point in trying to change his mind. once you lifted your head back up and saw how those big blue eyes of his were staring back at you, the smudged, dark makeup around them making them seem so might brighter, you no longer had the heart to tell him no again. he could have asked anything of you, and you would’ve said yes.

“it’s in the bathroom.”

without warning, joost moved to grip the backs of each of your thighs and stood up, smiling when you squealed as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. it baffled you for a moment how it seemed as though he already knew where to go, that he already knew that your bathroom was all the way down the hall, last door on the left. you chalked his strong sense of direction up to it just being another one of the many perks that came along with being…well, him.

and whilst that was true, maybe it wasn’t the only reason why he specifically knew the layout of your home already. maybe he’s escorted you home more than just the once, twice, three times. maybe this wasn’t actually his first time walking down your hallway at all. 

the cold of your bathroom counter underneath you made you jump slightly as joost carefully set you down on it. you’d left the light on from when you were in here earlier; your razor still laying discarded on the floor, coated in a drying layer of your own blood. you hadn’t even thought he’d seen it until he was picking it up and tossing it in the bin as if it was just a piece of rubbish that he’d dropped. 

neither of you were saying anything. joost had fallen uncharacteristically quiet, breathing somewhat heavily through his mouth as he dug through your cabinets until he finally found that little green box with the red cross on on the front. his hands were shaking as he opened it, pulling out the countless packets of alcohol wipes and plasters, dropping a few things as he did so.

had you been paying more attention, then you would’ve noticed that actually, this was taking quite the toll on him. but you couldn’t shift your eyes away from the bin, the one that now contained the very last one of your razor blades amongst a small collection of used tissues and tampon wrappers. joost had thrown away your last one, and now you had none.

“okay, i’m sorry if this stings, schat. let me know if you need me to stop, okay?”

it was as you were nodding that you suddenly hissed, your leg jolting from the pain of the alcohol wipe joost had used to clean the first of the cuts on your upper thigh. on instinct you tried to pull away, fighting against the grip that he held on you to keep your leg still against the counter.

you weren’t expecting it to hurt as much as it did. considering how many times that you’ve been here before, cleaning yourself up because you didn’t always have someone around that cared enough to want to do it for you, you thought you would have been used to it by now. you never would have guessed that it would have you in near tears all over again, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until your knuckles slowly started to turn white. 

maybe this was just the price you had to pay for going a little deeper than you meant to. 

“hey, do you think you could just…i don’t know, talk, for a while? tell me something about yourself?” at the look of confusion on your face joost just smiled, raising his hands a little to show you just how hard they were shaking. “it’ll help me concentrate.”

he was struggling more than he thought he’d be.

except how could he not be? this was a lot for him. all that blood of yours smeared and stained across his fingers aside, simply just being this close to you was enough to somehow make him feel lightheaded. feeling your knees on either side of his thighs as he stood in between your legs, so close to you in fact that he could hear your heartbeat louder than anything else. 

he just needed to hear your voice, needed something else to focus on besides your blood that now laid underneath his fingernails.

“oh shit, uh, okay….um…”

you weren’t sure why you started to chuckle, almost, stumbling over these noises that barely even resembled words. you wanted to come up with something to talk about fast, to help get joost’s mind off of what he was actually doing, but the harder you thought the quicker your mind went blank. nobody’s ever really asked you to talk about yourself before; you had no idea what to say.

there wasn’t a whole lot to say, really. you used to have interests; hobbies that you used to put your heart and soul into, dreams that you were so determined to make a reality for yourself. levi had, had other plans for you, though. either, he would simply take up too much of your time, or he’d be so insistent that those hobbies of yours were ‘pointless’, that eventually you grew to lose interest in them. since day one of the relationship, everything about you had to be about him.

you used to think that it was probably for the best, that maybe he was right and you really were just wasting your time. but now that he’s gone for good, and you’re stuck with someone in front of you that genuinely wants to get to know you, you realise now that there’s nothing for you to tell them. there’s nothing of who you used to be left.

joost gave your knee a quick squeeze before turning his attention onto your arms, having slowly picked up on the fact that once again, your lack of an answer told him far more than you wanted it to. 

“okay, let’s start with the easy stuff — what did you want to be when you were growing up?”

“i wanted to be a painter.”

you hissed again at the burn of one of the alcohol wipes against your skin; smiling softly when he reassured you of just how brave you were being.

“a painter? that’s sick! did that happen?”

“almost. i went to school for it, got a degree and everything, but uh, levi always said that it’s not a ‘real job’ so…”

joost’s frown was immediate. he was shaking his head, the lines in his forehead already so prominent. “did you really give it all up because of that? that’s bullshit.” 

“i didn’t really have much of a choice, joostie.”

you both fell quiet again after that.

he felt horrible for reacting like that, fearing that you mistook all of his anger towards levi and each of the silly little ideas that the guy had planted in your head to be aimed at you. you’d sounded so defeated as your shoulders slumped, your voice falling to a near-whisper as you moved your gaze onto the floor. of course you didn’t have a choice; that much should’ve already been obvious. 

and it was the look on your face now that was hurting him the most. a look of mourning as you pondered the life that you almost had, had it not been for that asshole and the hold that he’d once had over you. as joost wiped another cut clean, he regretted for just a moment not going back for seconds that night — it would’ve been the least that levi deserved.

“what kind of art did you do?”

that brought something of a smile back to your face as your mind drifted back to all of the scrapbooks you had hidden underneath your bed. old, dust-covered notebooks filled to the brim with page after page of everything from doodles to full-fledged paintings. your bottom lip wobbled when you thought of all the canvases though, the same ones you once watched levi destroy one night just because he’d wanted to see you cry after a fight.

“everything — oil paint, acrylics, watercolour. i really loved chalk, though. seeing all the stains it would leave behind made it feel like it meant something more, you know? like i was really creating something.”

a gentle grin curled the corners of your mouth up as you spoke, beginning to ramble so passionately about what you loved that joost really did almost forget what he was doing. he had to stop for a second just so that he could witness that smile of yours, see that gleam in your eyes that he’d once had himself back when he was just kid writing songs in his bedroom. in a blink of an eye, you had suddenly become so alive and it had him floored.

it had him captivated, actually; irrevocably wrapped around your finger.

his hands weren’t shaking so much anymore.

“i have a friend that’s a painter; he mainly does the oil stuff, i think, but maybe i could introduce the two of you one day? he’ll probably have some chalk laying around somewhere.”

“is he…?”

“no, he’s not like me. can i lift your shirt up a little bit? we’re almost done, i’ve just got to get the last ones.”

you nodded, wondering how it was that his skin felt so warm against yours, all things considered.

“it wouldn’t have mattered to me if he was.”

joost knew that you were telling the truth, could hear it in the way that your heartbeat kept its rhythm. 

and the conversation continued to flow as joost patched up the last few cuts of yours, sticking little hello kitty plasters delicately across your hip bones. he told you all about this oil-painter friend of his, ‘daan’ — how he’d been the first genuine friend that joost had made after the change, how he never would’ve been able to get away from the band if it wasn’t for him.

joost even opened up to you about his family, his parents. even after so many years, you still had to help him breathe through it as he told you their story with tears all in his eyes. it was only fair that you did the same after that; he almost couldn’t believe it when you’d said you'd lost your parents when you were younger too, spent some time in the system just as he had. after all, that was how you met levi. 

and he told you all about another friend of his, ‘lenny’, how it’s because of her that he likes foreign graphic novels so much. whenever he’s not reading those porn mags that he swears he only picks up for the articles, he’s reading and then re-reading her old japanese comic books. you were never much of a comic book kid yourself, having always preferred to lose yourself inside the pages of a stephen king or a neil gaiman instead, so you promised to read ‘death note’ if joost read ‘the shining’.

by the time that he was pulling your shirt back down and chucking away all of the used, bloodied wipes that had accumulated, you were fighting to keep your eyes open. joost could tell that he was losing you just from the way that you kept swaying from side to side and nodding your head slightly even when he hadn’t asked you a question. it made his heart ache, knowing that you were so, so exhausted but still so unwilling to sleep because you wanted to keep the conversation going.

he hadn’t told you his favourite colour yet.

“cmon you, i think it's bedtime.”

you were yawning before you could argue, letting your head fall back against the cabinet behind you. the thought of your bed was undeniably heavenly; the feeling of your mattress dipping below your weight as you curl yourself into a ball beneath your blankets. the only problem was that you were just as comfy here as you would be over there, though, perched on the edge of your bathroom countertop with joost still standing in between your legs, his hands resting on each of your thighs.

this bubble you had created with him — it wasn’t one you were ready to leave quite just yet. there was still that fear of waking up alone again lurking in the back of your mind.

and it was before you could argue that joost was also scooping you up again, holding you up by the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you back down the hall. you let your head fall to rest against his shoulder, your arms draped loosely around his neck. if it wasn’t for that fear of yours twisting your insides and rotting your brain from the inside out, you could have fallen asleep right there. 

you probably would have.

“you’re gonna stay with me, right?”

joost glanced down at the top of your head with a crease in his eyebrows, carefully nudging your bedroom door open with his foot. “i already told you, lieverd, i’m not going anywhere. i promise.”

“no, i know that. i just mean -” you paused when he gently set you down just beside your bed, only stepping away to turn on the light until you made a sudden, desperate reach for his wrist. 

when the warm glow of the lamp flooded the room, you could see that he wasn’t smiling anymore. instead there was worry in his eyes as he took that step back closer to you again, his hands coming up to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ears.

“what’s wrong?”

“- i meant that you’re not gonna exile yourself to the sofa or anything, right? you’ll stay with me?”

it finally clicked in his head what you were asking. 

and it definitely felt like a lot to be asking of him, again all things considered. you just couldn’t do it though, you couldn’t handle the idea of being by yourself anymore. it was why you always stayed in the end, with levi, why a part of you couldn’t help but miss him. his presence would be chilling but his side of the bed would always be warm when you would wake up in the mornings. 

you didn’t want to start crying when you felt as though it was taking joost too long to answer. you didn’t want to guilt trip him like that, make him feel as though he had to even if he didn’t want to. but it was just another thing that you couldn’t help, because you were so tired and so afraid that you just didn’t know what else to do besides sit down and cry.

he copied you by sinking down into a squat, placing both of his hands onto each one of your knees. since you kept your eyes focused on the ceiling, trying and failing at trying to blink away your tears as you hiccuped, it was from the corners of your sight that you saw joost reach up to wipe them away himself. the pads of his thumbs stroked along the skin of your cheekbone and lingered there for a moment or two before he spoke.

“can you look at me, schatje?”

you did so almost reluctantly.

“i’m not going anywhere, alright? i’m not gonna leave you.”

nodding as you sniffled, you kept your eyes locked with his as you crawled back onto your bed and pulled back the covers. neither of you said anything nor dared to look away from the other as joost kicked off his shoes and undid the clasp of his watch, slipping it off of his wrist to leave it on your bedside table. 

that was all he did before he climbed into bed with you, still dressed in the same hoodie and sweatpants that he’s had on all night. you let his arms wrap around you and tug you up into his chest as you grabbed onto fistfalls of his sweatshirt, trusting that he meant it when he said he’d stay with you but still feeling too afraid to let go. 

more tears began to fall from your eyes, your shoulders wracking against him as you cried. soft, gentle circles were drawn anywhere on your skin that he could reach; your shoulders, your hips, your sides, and he murmured sweet little assurances into your ear.

“i mean it, okay? i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

it was with your whole heart that you believed him. with your tears slowly soaking through the cotton of his jumper, you believed that he’ll still be here when you wake up, all curled up with you with his hand still rubbing up and down your back. 

“i’m here.”

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hey, you said requests were open for Robert Reynolds from Thunderbolts.

Could you write an x male reader, with reader being a friend of Bucky (that has powers maybe) and Bucky calls him for the Sentry mission and reader unexpectedly bonds with Bob ? Maybe reader has anger issues and so he understands self-control issues ?

Please and thank you 🙏

HELLLOOOOO thank you for the request!!!! Please mind me and my very rough writing, this is my first fic after closing requests in a WHILE regardless, I hope you enjoy this fanfic tho!!! I tried to work with the idea you gave me so i hope it suffices!  Also please note I've seen the movie ONCE and I've forgotten a lot of the actual lines they said! My apologies if I've made those mistakes! 

Control amidst Chaos

Tags: Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x Mutant!Male!Reader, No use of YN, The Thunderbolts* spoilers, Yelena Belova, John Walker, James Bucky Barnes, Red Guardian, Ava Starr, Childhood trauma, void area, Unstable Backgrounds, Blooming relationship, Hurt Comfort, Fluff, BOB SUPPORT GROUP!

The last thing you've heard from Bucky was that he's running for Congress. What you didn't expect was that being a congress member also includes fighting against an unstable man with unstable powers in the job description. 

—

The last thing you've heard from Bucky was that he's running for Congress. What you didn't expect was that being a congress member also includes fighting against an unstable man with unstable powers in the job description. 

“Where? The old Avengers tower?” Yoi shouted across the room, phone on speaker. The knives slide easily into their pockets as you pull on your gloves.

“Yeah, I'm bringing my own group with me-” 

“Group? Since when did you get so friendly, huh Barnes?” The phone speaker crackles, which indicates a scoff from Bucky, no doubt. 

“Look, just get there quick, alright? and bring your gear, you'll need it.” A beep ends the call just as you adjusted the final strap on your armour. While you haven't fought a real danger in a while now, it doesn't mean you haven't forgotten just how powerful you can be. 

Bucky doesn't usually contact you, especially about a mission. You've been keeping tabs on him, and he mostly checks in just to hear how you are, asking about your health. Now that Bucky has asked for your help, in such an urgent matter as well, a bile of anxiety rises inside you.

You sped off in your truck down the highway, hoping to make it to the tower in time before anything goes awry.

—

A bitter chill wraps down your spine. You force your eyes to snap open, breathing in lungfuls as you take in your surroundings. There, you stand, inside a room, a familiar place, though it doesn't bring back fond memories. The bright blue wallpaper and children's toys strewn about, the image depicts of childlike wonder and happiness, though it contrasts with what’s happening just across the room. 

Your heart drops as you glance down, a younger, much younger you, sitting in the middle of the room, a toy train in hand. It’s blocky, mostly made out of wood, if you could recall. He’s oblivious to the noise outside of his safety bubble. Your brow furrows, trying to process the situation, before the voice outside the room becomes clearer. The shouting, heightened tone, and quick replies. It was your parents fighting. 

The realization hits you like a freight train. It was the day your mutation manifested. It was a sunny afternoon at the park, if you recall. You were in the sandbox, just meters away from your father, when another child came over to where you sat. The kid took the shovel you were using to build a castle, before knocking the structure down, sending blocks of sand to break apart. There was a snap inside you, something broke loose and washed over your young mind. It wasn't like you could've controlled it, the surge of power crashes down amidst a wave and before you could process anything, the same kid was sent flying, particles of sand cover his torso and legs, as if he was pulled.

The next memory was just you sitting in your room, toy train in hand, blissfully unaware of the argument happening outside. So it seems. 

The truth is, you were aware of the fight. Aware of the damage you did to that kid. Even when you were such a young child, you knew that what you did was wrong, was bad enough to cause your parents to fight. But you also knew, you somehow had to keep a mask up, to make them feel like you were still their innocent angel.

You blink repeatedly, looking around the now suffocating room, looking for a door, a latch, anything as a way out. You turn to see a full-length mirror across the room, tilting your head. Within it, sits a silver-haired woman, Yelena, comforting what must be Bob, who caused this whole nightmare. You take steps to approach the mirror, the tips of your fingers touch the cold glass, before it ripples like water in a pond. 

Reassessing the image within the mirror, you take a staggering breath, once, twice, before running shoulder-first into the glass. It shatters, the glass breaking shrieks into your ears, before you slowly open your eyes to two concerned voices calling your name.

“Hey wha- are you okay?” Yelena’s voice brings you to a clearer vision. You open your eyes to her and Bob’s concern above you.

“Ugh…” You bring yourself to sit up, rubbing your shoulder. “Never been better,” You sigh, rolling your arm a bit to ease the pain. You turn your head to face Bob, his brows furrowed as he checks your body. His gaze slowly meets yours, eyes wide in a slight surprise, before he clears his throat.

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

“Been through worse. Bob, right? Sentry?” Your voice softens when Bob turns his head away at the mention of Sentry. From his body language, there must be a rift between Bob and his Sentry identity. Judging from the damage he caused throughout New York, you can connect the two dots to make a cohesive line. 

“Right sorry- I should be asking if you’re okay,” 

“Out there, that… Version of you, that's not you, is it?” He takes a staggering inhale at your question, before his grip on his thigh tightens. He blinks before slowly nodding, his head turns to a foggy window on the other side of the loft, or so it seems.

“It um… it always comes out, whenever Sentry is present.” Bob inhales as he shakes his head. “It’s- it’s not something I can control. Before I went to Val and her program, before this, i’d-” 

“I’d have good days, and bad day. Like- bad bad days. Where I wouldn't remember anything. Next thing know I'm just… I don't know. I don't- I can't control him,” He blinks, his blue eyes shaking as he takes a sharp inhale. You shift closer to him, a cautious hand on his arm, rubbing slightly. 

“It's okay, hey, I get it,” Your eyes meet his, a meek smile to try and comfort him. “I do. It.. sucks, when you cant control these things. When you lose control,” 

“I’m… My mutation- powers, they come from my emotions, they come from my depression, my happiness. But dangerously, it comes from my rage, too. It took me years to control mine, to keep myself in line, Bob, I get it,” You take a breath, rubbing at his arm softly, he blinks, eyes wide. 

“And you can control yours, you know you can. We can all control the demons inside of us, or compromise, at least,”

“You think I… You really think so?” He blinked, a wavering smile making its way to his lips. 

“We can do this together, Bob. You and us,” Yelena nods, her hands engulfing his. The man looks between the two of you, a slow build of trust before he nods, reassured with a steady confidence within him. You smile, before the room quivers from a strong tremor, the furniture flying in every direction.

You and Yelena instinctively try to cover Bob’s frame, though it's apparent he can hold his own when a chair flies his way and he only ducks to cover his head. The pieces break apart, the chair bursts into splinters. 

“You okay?!” You grip Bob’s upper arm, steadying the man. He nods, Yelena immediately holding his other hand. 

“You got this Bob! I know you can do it!”

—

The smoke clears, darkness receding quickly as the midday sun takes over. Debris and flipped cars litter the street as you cough, slowly pulling yourself up. You quickly look for the team, for Yelena or Bucky or B- Bob!

You hurried to haul the man by his arm, brushing off the dust from his clothes. He shakes his head, his curls swinging from the rough movement.

“Hey! We did it, Bob, we’re okay!” 

“We what? What did we do?” He blinks, slowly looking around at the mess. “Whoah.. What a day huh,” 

You squint slightly at Bob's lopsided smile before scoffing and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling you to the side. “Yeah bud, what a day,”

The others slowly gather themselves, pulling each other up. Bucky stands beside Yelena as she assesses the street. You spot Ghost, Walker and Alexei gathering their weapons from the debris, brushing clouds of dust off of them. You all gather together, relief washes over each other as the head count comes out complete. You want to let out a laugh before you spot the familiar, annoying blonde-brunette woman just in the distance, seemingly shouting into her phone. The group turns to the source of the voice, Yelena stalks her, leading the group.

She frantically retreats behind a car, then under a bus, before the group sets off into a run, you sticking close to Bob. Bucky runs in front of you and when he pulls past the bus, you are caught off guard with flashing lights and the loud commotion of reporters and their questions. 

Val stands behind a podium with mics pointed at her, you and the group now stand in a line, bewildered at the situation. She suddenly announces that you all are a group, the New Avengers, and she cheers. The crowd erupts, claps and shouts questions, a barrage of camera flashes in front of them. Yelena takes a step towards the woman and whispers something you can't pick out, though judging from her look, it's most likely a threat.

You glance towards Bob, standing idly beside you, a cloud of anxiety over him as he looks at the crowd. You sigh, wrapping a hand around his wrist. He widens his eyes, glancing at the contact, before meeting your eyes. 

“Whatever she has in store, we’ll do it together, okay?” You grin, tilting your head.

Bob sighs, the cloud of worry melting from his eyes. He sighs, then nods softly. 

To be invited into The New Avengers was the last thing you expected as a graduate of Xavier's Institute, as a nobody mutant, no less. But if it means gaining a new family, and a new friend, then it might just be worth it.

You have to thank Bucky after all of this mess is sorted.  

Requests for Bob are open! Reblogs appreciated <3

[lutethebodies]

OTP Vibes Game: “Our Days Are Numbered”

Belatedly answering a tag by @mogruith (one of my most dangerously reliable enablers, whose post about Coranzan and Minthara is here). "Belated" for reasons both substantial (IRL work hit me this week) and silly (I'm not embarrassed to say I had to look up what "OTP" means). I tried to follow my asker's moodboard/vibes idea, but I totally failed, so this one’s a bit long below the cut. 

However I do list links to where I've yapped even more extensively about my OTP for anyone who isn't sick of them after over a year. I'll also follow my asker's no-tagging example to keep my cringe relatively contained, but whomever wants to pick this up from me is welcome to; please tag me if you do.

Rules: Post some pictures of your OTP and their vibes, some info, and a song or songs that fit their vibe. That's it. Edit as you please.

As always, mash that readmore for choice goodies:

Pictures and Vibes

I tend to recycle my same fave images of these two, and since those are in their tag and the links below, I staged some Cannor x Minthara non-cutscene snaps in Photo Mode for (slightly) better poses/image quality: their view from Wyrm's Lookout (scroll down here for original), a nice day in the park becomes an unexpected impasse (original), hecklers beware (original), and a conference at the map table (original). Have another "second scene" closeup too, why not.

This couple's vibe is a balanced combination of "culture shock" with "home and purpose," a resolutely solid shell protecting a soft, devoted center. It’s them against the world, but tactful, covert, intentional. The glue is their maturity, which helps them endure both the unique circumstantial crisis that mashed them together (the BG3 worm-brain plot) and (for however long it lasts) their post-game relationship. Wish them luck, because they're gonna need it.

As a musical lute-and-lyre duo, they’ve taken on the band name “Lute the Bodies” (I think they’re established enough on here to carry the blog’s name), but their true name is “Our Days Are Numbered” (which may not be substantial enough for a fic, but could be for a song), because they’re grown-up enough to be realistic about appreciating each day together as it comes.

Info and Songs

If you have the patience for a middle-aged man going cringe-long about his headcanons and pixel dolls, here's a selection of links related to them both: 

Cannor x Minthara Culture Shock (their relationship rundown)

The Lost Singer, Part 1 and Part 2 (Cannor background)

OC Questions, Revealing OC Asks, and Your Character as a Feeling (Cannor vibes) 

The Misunderstood Blunt Instrument (Minthara headcanons)

Escape and Endurance (more Minthara headcanons)

As for songs (by other people, at least, because Cannor has 7 of his own and Minthy's covering an 8th), how about I pull five faves from my resolutely middle-aged “Nightwarden After Hours” playlist, which loosely tracks their romance:

The Desperate Kingdom of Love - PJ Harvey

Outro (AKA I’m a Fool to Want You) - M. Ward

This Lullaby - Queens of the Stone Age

Night Light - Sleater-Kinney

Take Me With You - Morphine

Pictures (Part 2: Photo Mode Yearbook)

“Yearbook” in that they’re softer/sillier/cheesier but no less valid, as any airbrushed teen knows.

Thanks again to my asker! I'm always down for this stuff.

[ixtaek]

Oh dear… I’m def biased about their games too which is why:

1. Wind (Fav game, plus look at him! Sunshine child doing his best. He’s not a pirate, he’s a HERO. He just hangs out with pirates. I sometimes remember he’s the age of my oldest speech class girls and it puts everything into perspective. He’s that kid who is trying to be honor roll, three internships, sailing team, babysitting, and he really just wants to sleep till noon.)

2. Four (3rd favorite game (MC) and I just love his vibe. Mr. Teamwork. The responsible one. We know he feels equal parts simmering rage and desire to cry for everyone he meets but he has learned to keep it together and to laugh about it.)

3. Hyrule (jumped a few spots since I started, I blame Monster Energy.)

4. Legend (I like him but he’s not as gruff or as hateful as people make him out to be! I wish more people had played the Oracle games because that’s my core Legend right there.)

5. Time (2nd favorite game (MM) but he’s so. The adult in the situation. Like I get why but also we need to see him on his own rather than just as the leader.)

6. Twilight (Least favorite game, sorry baby I can’t get past those dull colors and uncomfortable design choices. Which is a shame because you’re the most like me but WHY IS YOUR GAME LIKE THAT. -knows exactly why-)

7. Wild (Bless you, I love your games. But you are everywhere in the fandom. It’s not that I don’t love you I just wanna see. Everyone else too. Please. I love you baby.)

8. Warriors (Haven’t played the game, he’s a very nice young man, very responsible. He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves a middle management position and a mug that says “You don’t have to be crazy to work here but it helps.”)

9. Sky (I like you but the design of SS’s overworld was somewhat of a letdown and unfortunately that reflects back on you. Sky is what everyone THINKS Wind is—innocent face mixed with the most likely to do a crime. Has the vibes of an 80s teen movie protagonist—bullied but also kinda catty themselves.)

Everyone here is already tagged because we are mutuals in law. So anyone who i missed, this is for you. Yes, YOU.

Gonna try and start a tag game, so let's go!

We've all got our favorite Links, but I wanna know how ALL the LU Links rank for you.

I'll start! And just to note, I've only played Sky, Wild, and Twilight's games so far.

1. Sky- My favorite Link, though his game is my second favorite

2. Wild- Second favorite Link, but his games are my favorite

3. Warriors- Haven't played his games, but @crazylittlejester has made him one of my top three

4. Time- Gives big Dad vibes, he's just trying to keep his children out of trouble

5. Twilight- Absolutely the big brother

6. Legend- Not as bitter as I often see him portrayed. He's just a (older) kid whose been through a lot

7. Hyrule- Played his games a LONG time ago, never made it past the first dungeon. I don't really have much to say about him though

8. Wind- Cute kid, I like him but don't have much to day about him either

9. Four- I unfortunately don't know anything about him beyond LU, sorry Four!

Tagging:

@skyloftian-nutcase @crazylittlejester @skyward-floored @sprite-and-the-bunnydragons and anyone else is welcome to join as well!

[simpjaes]

color coded ― l. hs

You were just browsing, looking at all of the various kinks and fantasies the great world wide web had to offer. It’s not like you intended to make an account on a specific website to meet someone. Really, you were just curious about what was behind the “only members can view this page” banner. What you definitely weren’t expecting was to be pulled into actually meeting one of the men behind said banner, or enjoying it so much that you’d like for him to hurt you more.  or the one where you join a kink website and a specific dom’s profile catches your attention enough to actually meet him at a hotel and practically ignore your safe words bc man, he’s good. 

minors dni !! | kindly leave feedback.

WORDCOUNT ― 8.7k

PAIRING ― heeseung x afab reader

CONTENT ― dom!heeseung, open minded sub!reader, smut, reader wants to explore her interests in kinks and finds the best person for the job

WARNINGS ― this is mildly cnc in some areas but reader does want it and there are safe words (colors) but she intentionally doesn’t use them. she’s having fun.

NOTE ― if you’ve read this before it’s bc i wrote it on @/ncteez for johnny ages ago! SHOUT OUT TO MY BELOVED PATREON BABES!! They voted that the member I revamp this for be Heeseung, so now everyone gets another Heeseung work from me :D

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― MONSTER COCK HEESEUNG AGENDA, reader is referred to as: “sweetheart”, "baby”, “dirty girl”, “pain slut”, and “plaything”, face fucking, bulge kink but like– via throat, choking, drooling, dirty talk, slapping, restraining, suffocation, degrading, praise, panty sucking, brief oral for the reader, teasing, short lived thigh fucking, cream pie, cock-drunk reader, biting, abuse of breasts, orgasm via nipple stimulation, clit abuse, hair pulling, fingering, overstimulation, Heeseung is kind of a sadist at times, unprotected sex, aftercare

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You joined this website out of curiosity, and you also messaged user SayPlease out of curiosity. You said please to him, you thanked him, you used all of those manners you grew up learning in a way that they were never intended for, and…well, it worked. 

Truly, it was because you were curious and you had no intentions of actually doing it. You wanted to try out some fantasies in the safety of your own room, alone. You wanted to keep it under wraps and just see how your body reacts to the words and images the people on this website offer. You were expecting your body to react at least a little bit, but you weren’t expecting to have one of the best orgasms of your life guided by his words through a muffled speaker. 

Heeseung knew you were new to this, he knew you were just exploring, and most of all, he knew he could control you. After all, you did so well during that first phone call. He’s truly not surprised that you were willing to meet with him in person after a short week or so of communicating. 

All of them eventually want the same thing, you’re no different. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Pulling up to the hotel felt ill-fitting for you considering this isn’t something you’d normally do. No, of course not. Why would you go out and meet some random man you met on a fetish website? Why would you be wearing the prettiest panties you own in hopes to get some praise for them? Why would you have been the one to suggest meeting him in the midst of a sexting session where he sent you the most delicious image of his hand squeezing around his cock, texting that he knew you’d do a great job of choking it? 

Why you, right? No one needs to know that answer. This is a private affair, one where only you and Heeseung know what’s going to happen. You’re nervous, based on how he speaks to you alone. You keep forgetting how new you are to all of this. Some rules you know are in place, but what about other things? Will he explain? Will he sit you down and make you sign a contract like what happened in that one book everyone was raving about? 

The walk from your car to the room with dainty metal numbers screwed into the door felt like it took ages. You didn’t have a key, and you were a bit early for this meeting but the anxiety bubbling in your gut said that if you didn’t do this now, you’d probably have already been pulling out to drive home and pretend this never happened.

He was already behind that door though, and only when he starts opening it do you realize that never once have you seen his face. You’ve heard his voice, you’ve seen his body, but never his face. He, on the other hand, never saw you at all, he only heard you. 

Is this how this type of thing usually goes down? Are appearances not part of the fun? Suddenly, you find yourself worried that he’s only going to be attractive from the neck down, which would ruin it for you, if you’re being honest.

On instinct you back away from the door, ready to run back to your car and delete your profile, block his number, and erase this endeavor from your memory but when he comes into view,, you find yourself freezing on the spot.

Messy dark hair, somewhat soft eyes, taller than you, pretty smile. This man looks exactly like a dom that would talk to you the way he already has. It doesn’t match the face you imagined on him though. Hardened eyes, a grimace on his lips, something along the lines of a person who probably carries themself as some type of cocky prick with a huge ego to match his cock. But no, this is what Heeseung looks like. He looks…soft, and almost compassionate if you’re reading his facial expression right.

He doesn’t say anything to you at first, he just watches your reaction to his face reveal all while he takes in what you look like for the first time. He liked the surprise of it all, not knowing what his next partner actually looks like until he’s about to have them on their knees. He’s had all sorts of partners fulfill his fantasy without the expectation that he would want them too, after all, it’s about the pleasure and not entirely the attraction in his mind. You, however, are incredibly attractive. What a perfect little pair of eyes to match that whining voice of yours that he’s heard so much of. He imagines how much better you’d look while crying..

“There she is.” He says warmly, stepping to the side and letting you into the room. “More beautiful than I could have hoped for.” 

Already you’re blushing as you step into the room, deciding once and for all that, yeah, you’re doing this. His confidence in complimenting you matches the way he talked to you before, except now he’s in front of you and looking at you. It hits you straight in the stomach, even as you still try to comprehend his kind words versus the ones he growled through the speaker at you just days ago.

You’re silent as you take your shoes off and stand awkwardly in front of the made-up, plush, probably half-assed cleaned hotel bed. 

“You’re nervous?” He chuckles out, locking the door behind him and walking over to casually sit on the bed. His legs fall open easily as he looks down at himself, then up at you through the messy fringe falling in front of his eyes. “You can still back out, you know.”

You shake your head, struggling not to make eye contact with him. 

“Are there like–” You’re embarrassed by how nervous you are, unable to string together a sentence or try to keep this calm and casual. 

“Hm? Go on, I’m not going to do anything until you’re sure you want it.” He smiles, cocking his head to the side and trailing his eyes up and down your body. He really can’t stop looking at you, hoping that you’ll let him have his way. The memory of how you sounded on the phone flooding his mind as he puts your face to the moaning voice over and over again. He remembers how wet you sounded, he could hear you fuck yourself so clearly. 

“Rules. Are there any rules?” 

Heeseung darts his eyes to the ceiling in thought. Right, he knows you’re new but– damn is he selfish. 

“If you want rules, we can set them now. A safe word is good,” He pauses, reaching to grab at your hand to pull you next to him. “Sit.”

He says it politely, more like an offer than demand but you can’t see him as anything other than the dominant man you’d spoken to before. Even with a face that looks as soft as his right now. 

Your stomach does flips as you obey, already feeling entirely dominated.

“Usually, a safe word is the only thing I set and it tends to help people learn their limits. I will stop if you say it.” He tries to explain, ultimately to leave limitations up to you during the act. 

After all, since you’re so new, how would you even know what you don’t like anyway? Sure, some people in this community find Heeseung’s way of doing things shady at best, but he does communicate his preferred method first. He isn’t trying to trick you into doing something you don’t want to do, he just wants the freedom to let you explore all of the things that he likes. 

“I’m not sure what rules are even meant to be set.” You explain, finally gaining enough composure to talk clearly now. “Don’t pee in my mouth?”

He nods in agreement with a roll of his eye, looking at you as if he is encouraging you to continue.

“What’s the safe word then?” You ask, unintentionally fiddling your fingers in a nervous way. You catch his eye watching you, and you note the way he does his best to calm you from any anxiety.

“Some people pick random words, but colors are usually a good way to go. Yellow for when you’re not sure, but I can keep going. Red for when I need to stop.” 

“No green?” You ask.

“I mean, technically everything is green until you state otherwise, isn’t it?” 

He’s right.

“Any other things that are a hard no?” He asks again, ruffling his hair through his fingers. “Fair warning, I will hit you, choke you, restrain you, among many other things,” he pauses and looks for your reaction. “unless you tell me now that you don’t want it.”

You look at him and how his soft features have hardened slightly with his tense jaw, your thoughts derailing again as you see the words coming from a mouth so plush and pretty.

“Is kissing allowed?” You ask, completely unrelated to his string of offered abuse.

“If you want to kiss me through all of this, and your mouth is available, sure, I don’t see why not.” 

You nod, taking it all in. Yellow. Red. No piss (this time). You’re going to hurt, and you can kiss him. 

“Okay.” You say in a small voice, looking away from him and down to your lap. “Can you start slow?”

“No.” Heeseung admits. He’s incredibly attracted to your nervousness, and even more attracted to the way your voice is already shaking despite not having touched you yet. God, you’re like a brand new canvas. “You have safe words, use them if it’s too much. I don’t ‘go slow’,” He adds, spreading his legs a bit more. “I do what I want, you do what I want, and maybe you’ll get what you want in return.”

There is no tone of politeness in his voice now, and you assume he switched fully into this persona the moment you muttered the word “okay.” More nervous now, you almost wonder if it’s too late to back out. Do you even want to? Because now you’re turning and you can see the way he’s looking back at you. You’re just exploring, and he’s right, you have safe words.

“Okay.” You say again against the anxiety in your belly, knowing that once it starts, that’s your chance to decide if your exploration was worth it.

Without warning, you hear the zipper of his jeans being pulled at, and before you know it his length is out and on display. He grips it much like he did in the photos he sent to you. Matching his body more to his face now, you stare at it. It’s much bigger in person, and more intimidating to imagine having inside of you. Not only is it long but it’s incredibly thick, part of you wonders if you could even fit it into your mouth at all. 

“You mentioned being on birth control, right? And being tested as clean?” He asks, looking down at himself and then back at you to watch you slowly nod in an answer.

He basks in the way you stare, blinking at the way he’s gripping onto himself for you to see. But, like he said, he’s not going to start slow for you. With the brief discussion and questions out of the way, he’s going in full force.

“On the floor.” He nods his head to the space between his legs. 

Your body takes you to the position between his legs without so much as a second thought. Your fingers instinctually land against the harsh fabric of his jeans as you attempt to prepare yourself, swallowing hard at the image of his cock towering before you. 

“No, hands behind your back.” He guides you with a smile and watches the way you pull your hands back and put them right where he asked you to.

“Already so obedient? I knew you wouldn’t be hard to handle.” 

You can’t tell if it’s a compliment or not, but it feels like it is because it sends a sense of pride through you. Does he like to fight for what he wants, or does he prefer having full control? 

Heeseung releases the grip on his length and places his hand at the back of your head, slowly guiding your mouth to his balls, twitching a bit at the way you instantly have your tongue out to lick and taste wherever he guides you. That alone drives him wild, seeing as how you may be new to this whole submissive thing, but surely you know how to suck a man off, right?

“You barely even know me, look at you lapping away.” He teases as he watches you, a smirk against his lips while he guides your head up to the underside of his cock. “What would your parents think?”

You knew he’d degrade you, but in all fairness, none of what he just said to you is a lie. You don’t even know his last name, you didn’t even know what he fucking looked like until fifteen minutes ago. Your parents would have a heart attack if they knew, and somehow feeling this dirty makes your stomach tumble and panties dampen.

He stops guiding you for a moment, feeling your tongue travel back down to his balls, licking and prodding against them in a way that makes him want to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t show want or need for his partners, ever. That’s their role to fill, because if he wants to fuck something, he can. 

“Up,” He guides with a slap to your cheek, feeling your tongue travel up the underside of his cock again. “Open up.” He adds as he stares down at you, seeing you open your mouth fully while keeping your tongue flat against him. 

When you circle your lips around the head, you want to take your time. You want to prepare for the fact that Heeseung has a huge cock and it’s going to take some getting used to. Apparently, that wasn’t going to happen though, because now his hand is putting pressure on your head to go down, and your body fights it slightly because your throat has never been prepared for this kind of size?.

“No?” He asks, pulling your head off of him and seeing if you’re already going to give him a red, but you don’t. You don’t even look at him and instead, focus your eyes on the head of his cock trying to be better prepared. 

You almost hear the chuckle he lets out, the silent code word of green shining through in the way you say nothing. With that, he places both hands on your head and holds it there. 

“Deep breath–” He encourages. “Look at me.” 

Your eyes dart up to his as you take in a sharp inhale, and then, he’s not sliding in, he’s plunging past your lips, straight down your throat. The thickness of him forces your jaw to strain open as he angles himself, watching you try to close your eyes to refrain from gagging. 

“Open your eyes, look at me.” He demands this time, pressing further into your mouth and leaving little room for you to fight it. You do your best to look up at him, straining as he watches his cock disappear deeper into your mouth. Then, he holds you there, stiffening his hips just to twitch his cock and stretch your throat out.

For a moment, ignoring the fact that your lips are being spread impossibly wide and you can feel your throat attempting to constrict around the intrusion, you watch the way his face stares down at you. He’s really into this. Concentrated on sliding his full, hardened cock as deep as it can go into your mouth. And when he hits the back of your throat a third time and there’s a tear shedding down your cheek, he fucking chuckles.

“It’s not so bad, right?” He asks, knowing you can’t answer with a mouth full of him. 

That’s when the grip on your head becomes harsher and he starts fucking his hips forward, past your lips. He can feel you struggle, squeezing his length as it fills your throat, dripping precum and fully aware that you can’t even taste it. 

“Deeper.” He decides in a quick grunt, standing to his feet from the edge of the bed, holding your face on his cock and pressing in more, until he can hear the drool bubble from the corners of your mouth.

He stares down at you and the way your neck cranes. He can almost see the bulge of his cock intruding your throat as he presses in tightly if he angles his head right. He coos at you, rubbing a thumb against your cheek. 

“Pretty, tight little throat.” Heeseung compliments, reaching his hand down to rest against your neck so that he can feel his length sliding in and out of your throat. “Do you hate this?” 

You can’t respond, closing your eyes and trying to breathe through your nose. Your jaw is already hurting, your makeup is now ruined, and for some reason, you don’t hate it. You like the feeling of your breath being lost, with his hand pressed against any airway you could have possibly used at this moment. 

Arms still behind your back, you can’t help but pull them forward to brace your hands against your own knees as he continues to fuck into your mouth at a more aggressive pace. When he pulls almost all the way out, you steal little gasps that end up sounding more like wet, desperate, attempts to breathe. When he presses all the way back in, bruising your throat in an immaculate show of how big he is, he doesn’t make a single sound and only concentrates on the way he can feel his cock sliding against the palm of his hand through the expanse of skin along your neck. 

He does this for what feels like ages to you, and briefly you forget the pain of it and remember when he texted you the photo, saying you’d probably rather be choking on it. Experiencing it now, it’s more than you had imagined before, but also, in its own way, a million times better than you could have imagined. 

Heeseung’s hips start to slow as he releases his grip on your neck and moves his hands either side of your head. He holds you there on him as he tenses his muscles, your nose pressing against his abdomen and you can feel his cock twitch in the deepest depths your throat has to offer. You are continuously gagging around him and only now does he let out a moan, one that is deep and breathy. You open your eyes to try and look, but the angle doesn’t allow for it. All you can see is the expanse of skin along his abdomen and chest before his hands release your head.

He’s expecting you to pull back, considering you haven’t gotten a full breath of air since he started doing this, but you don't. He jerks his head down to look at you when he feels your hands grip at his jeans again. Heeseung doesn’t even think to tell you to put them back behind your back now, because you are willingly still choking on him. He can feel your tongue struggle to share the space in your mouth with him, the heaviness of his cock weighing it down.

“Shit–” He groans, staring down at you and the way you close your eyes so tightly in concentration, all in an attempt to please him. “Oh, fuck.” He throws his head back again this time, feeling the way you try to move your mouth on him, essentially deep-throating all on your own.

When he looks back down at you, he’s floored by the wetness against your cheeks. You’ve been crying this whole time, dribbling drool, and taking it so well. He makes a point to pull himself out of you because of it. 

The whimper that leaves your lips is something he doesn’t think he can forget. A raspy whimper. A fucking cry, he’d be lying if it didn’t sound like you were disappointed that he stopped suffocating you.

“Eager to please.” He starts sweetly, pinching your drool-coated chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “You like letting me use that tight little throat?”

You blink through your tears, nodding to him. You surprised yourself with how much you were able to take in that instant, and how willing you were to do it for longer. 

“Like you were made for it,” He hisses out this time, pulling you up by the chin so that you can stand in front of him, “Show me how wet this pussy is.” 

You can’t look away from his eyes, especially with the way he stares directly into yours when he cups his palm between your legs. Even with your clothes on, your body prickles with goosebumps at the sensation of him touching you there. 

“Can feel you through these shorts,” he smiles, dipping his head down to ghost over the shell of your ear before moving his hand to the button of your shorts. “Do you want me to touch you? I bet you do.”

You’ve never begged before, and you never really understood why people begged at all, but at this moment you think you would absolutely fall right back to your knees and plead for him to touch you. You can feel your shorts sticking to you, your panties uncomfortably tucked into your seeping pussy at the very act of him fucking your mouth. 

“Please?” You choke out, voice still raspy as you try to speak.

Heeseung chuckles at your pathetic attempt and pulls you by your shorts to step forward as he takes one step back. He shakes his head at you in pity, sitting himself on the bed as he drags you to stand between his legs. 

“Turn around.” He guides you with his hand before circling your ass with his hands and landing a short slap against the back of your thigh. “Now, sit.”

He still guides you, positioning his cock between both of your plush thighs and holding in a shiver at the way the hem of your shorts drags against his length. 

You know you get nothing out of this, and he’s not going to touch you yet but fuck, you need it at this point. He watched you gag around him, he watched you try your fucking best, and this is what you get in return? The head of his cock peeking from your thighs as you squeeze around them? So be it. 

You keep both feet on the floor, doing your best to keep your legs together as you make an attempt to bounce against his lap but he stops you instantly.

“I didn’t say you could move,” he warns, placing his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist before leaning both of you back and then rolling you over to your side. “Cross your legs and squeeze. Don’t move.”

You do exactly as he asks, crossing your legs at the ankle and lying there still as he slips his cock from between your thighs. You wait like this for a moment before you feel the head of his length nudging between, this time more wet than before, and then his hand is traveling to your belly and under your shirt from behind you. 

“Big tits too, ever gotten off from nipple play?” he whispers, his hand ignoring your bra and pinching straight through the sheer fabric against your nipple. “Would love to see how you’d drench these shorts if you could do that for me.” 

Your mind is racing, feeling his fingers tightening the pinch against your nipple and his cock lazily sliding between your thighs. You shake your head, not knowing if it is even possible to get off that way. Sensitive tits aside, if he can do it, you might just have to find a way to claim Heeseung as your dom, and no one else's.

“You haven’t?” He chuckles from behind you, snaking his other hand under you and up to your other tit. “Let’s see.” 

He uses both hands to move your bra to the outer swell of your breasts and gropes both of them before pausing and focusing on his cock between your legs for a split second. 

“Keep your legs tight for me, babe, I’ll reward you for it.” 

You squeeze your legs tighter as you feel his fingertips gently flick both of your nipples. You try to focus on that sensation alone, feeling a short jolt of pleasure travel down your body and straight to your clit. God, you want him to touch your pussy so badly, because there’s no way you can get off from this alone. 

His focus falls back to you, fucking his hips forward all while he allows his fingers to put more and more pressure into the flicks and pinches. You must not realize the way your body trembles even at this, and it’s driving him fucking insane. You’re so new to this, but you suck cock like you’ve been a submissive plaything for years. You have so much to learn, so much to experience, and it’s hard for him not to want to do it all right here, right fucking now. 

Without warning, he pulls his hips back and leaves his cock untouched. You’re about to turn your body to him in confusion but he does it for you. Rolling you over onto your back before kicking his own pants off. Now, he positions himself between your legs. He looks at you, deep and dark eyes matching the smirk on his face.

“Show me,” he starts, pulling your shirt off of you in one swift motion and staring down at your chest. “Wanna see them before I fucking ruin them.” 

Typically, it’s normal for you to be fairly silent in these situations, so having no response for him isn’t a surprise. What is surprising is the way your throat instantly forces out a small moan when his legs force you to spread yours as he settles between them.

Even the sensation of your pussy opening beneath your shorts at the spread of your legs has you feeling more aroused than before. So, when he shocks you with a quick slap against one of your tits, you’re not even surprised that it feels good.

He watches your face after that slap, your slack jaw rising into a small and cocky smirk at the realization that you’re liking what he’s doing. He’s still in the green, so he slaps again, harder this time before leaning down and licking the spot he just hit. 

He pulls your bra up with one hand, raising it to your collar bone to release both of your tits and leaving them vulnerable to any hit, kiss, bite, or pinch he has to offer. You don’t care, because when you manage to open your eyes and look at him, he’s entirely focused on the way your nipples harden and soften from the sensations. 

When he leans down to lick, your pussy clenches at the wet heat of his tongue flicking your nipple, and when his teeth graze as a warning for a future bite, you only anticipate it. Your body instinctively humping up each time a jolt is sent to your clit. He bites hard, and then pulls back to slap against your other tit even harder. Until you’re left shaking, babbling incoherently with gasps and curses. 

“Does it hurt enough?” He coos, leaning back down to lick the growing swell against your tits. “Do you want more?”

He’s surprised that you nod, chuckling to himself because he was already going just as hard as he normally would when a woman likes breast abuse. You want more? You want him to go harder? He hums in response, using one hand to grip harshly against one tit and dipping down to suck against a particularly swollen and sore area on the other.. 

You feel the pain, the sensation running down your body much like the arousal and pleasure does. It’s almost hard to tell the difference between them, aside from the fact that the pain actually hits harder. The feeling of his mouth abusing you, his hands, all while his cock is hanging heavy and neglected against your thigh? You can take more than this even, you’re sure of it. 

Without really intended to, your hands find their way to his hair. He almost pulls back to demand that you let go, to inform you that he gave no permission to touch him, but the way you pull against his strands has him replacing his harsh sucking and biting against your flesh to flicking his tongue against your nipple again. Surely, you can cum from this, surely, you’re close if you’re stepping out of line, right? 

He’s going to make damn sure you’re soaking your shorts before he rewards you again, after all. 

You moan at the flutters of his tongue gently flicking your nipple, especially in contrast to his other hand bruising your other breast. It’s strange, really, to feel that familiar build up in your stomach but then again, your panties are tucked so tightly between your lips that your clothing is actually offering a bit of pleasure on that front too. Your clit is harshly being restricted and somehow, that offers relief in its own way. 

For the first time in your life, you feel waves washing through your body that feel so hot that you’re sure you have a fever. He continues to stimulate your nipples, replacing his tongue with his other hand as he pulls back and watches you fall apart beneath him. His cock twitches wildly at the image. Your lips parting, tongue darting out to try and collect the saliva threatening to fall from the corners of your mouth, eyes rolled back before you squeeze them tightly and fucking tremble.

Your lower half is humping up, your chest is chasing the abuse of his fingers, and you feel nothing but heat as you orgasm for an embarrassingly long time. All the way until your ears pick up the sound of him cooing at you. 

“Dirty girl, you made a mess.” He smiles, releasing your tits and sliding down the bed before resting his chin on your knee. 

You’ve barely come back to reality when you feel your shorts unsticking from your pathetic cunt. Panties still tucked uncomfortably against you, he tries to coo again, but instead he groans at the image of both your pussy and your shorts.

“Fuck,” he stares. “So goddamn wet.”

He analyzes your shorts briefly before tossing them to the side and bracing both hands on your knees to spread your legs out. There, he hooks his pointer finger beneath the panties sitting between your pussy lips pulls them out. 

“So messy for me.” he comments, realizing that your entire pussy is glistening with arousal. He pulls your panties off of you easily, eyes focused on the way your hole pulses for something, anything.

You weren’t expecting him to do it, but then again, you weren’t expecting to let him do it when he shoves the panties into your face.

“Say ahhh.” He smiles, pressing the panties into your mouth with two fingers when you instantly obey. “Suck.”

You do, wondering how the fuck you ended up in a situation where this actually turns you on. He’s loving it though, watching your pussy pulse even more as you suck your own mess out of the fabric. You almost forgot his promise of a reward, if you’re being honest. So, yet again, you’re surprised when you feel his tongue, without any warning, lick straight against that pulsing hole and up to your clit. 

Your legs shake around him, instinctively closing around his head before both of his strong arms spread them back out again. He chuckles against your pussy, and when you inhale to try and regain control of the sensitive pleasure taking over your body, you can only taste yourself. Each breath replaced with your past orgasm, each moan coming out as a choked and desperate whine. 

The pleasure is short lived though. Heeseung takes note of your whining, licking and tasting you to the point that he’s the one that’s about to fucking lose it. He’s quick to regain his control, licking a languid stripe up your folds before landing against your clit and grazing his teeth against it. 

He holds you down when you jump at it, groaning at the sensitivity and pain. He grazes his teeth against it again, and again, and then finally nibbles against it. Your whining gets louder and he swears he can hear a whisper of a ‘wait, stop–’ as you spit the panties out of your mouth and your legs still try to squeeze around him, but he holds you down more, chuckling.

“You know that’s not going to stop me.” Heeseung reminds you before nibbling again. 

You could end this torture right now. Your clit has been neglected this whole time until now, and it’s not gentle. He’s biting, he’s grazing, and it fucking hurts. All you have to do is say the color, all you have to do is choke it out between his evil ministrations, but you don’t. 

“That’s what I thought.” He laughs, leaning back and sitting up between your legs. He releases his hold on your hips, now pressing one hand flat on your stomach and holding you down that way instead before slapping your clit. 

“Didn’t expect you to be a pain slut.” 

You groan, unable to answer between his quick slaps to your clit. Swallowing hard, you try to speak. He notices your attempt and holds back his next, harsher slap. 

“Baby wants to speak now?” He asks, rubbing your clit gently and encouraging you to try. 

“Yellow,” you finally whimper, and he raises his brow. 

“Oh?” He confirms, waiting for you to nod before holding back entirely from the slaps and instead, pinching your clit much like he did to your nipples.

For some fucking reason, this hurts more than the slaps but the consistent pain is more tolerable than the sudden, anticipated slaps. This, you like.

“Mhm,” You manage to moan out this time, biting at your bottom lip as your eyes roll back in pleasured pain, hips humping up for more. 

He tilts his head, liking the way you whine for it, happy to have found someone so willing to hurt for him. He pinches harder, watching you react, he dips his head down again and offers a bit more pleasure that way too as a means of secret reward. All the way until your legs are shaking, and he knows now that you’re already about to cum again.

Despite your confirmation and willingness to let him continue the abuse of your pussy, he pulls back entirely, collecting the wet seeping out of you and sliding it down his cock with his fist. 

“Eyes on me.” He demands, staring between your legs. You listen, managing to open your eyes in frustration and watch him. “Were you about to cum again?” 

His eyes dart to you, and your pussy pulses yet again when you nod, releasing a frustrated sigh. He ignores it, looking back down at your hole, his thought process switching to his own pleasure.

“Do you know how much I want it to hurt when you do?” He asks again, fisting his cock faster, using his other hand to grab your face and force you to look into his eyes. “I could be so fucking deep inside of you right now, you know that, right?”

You groan, your body threatening to release something that resembles an orgasm on those words alone. 

“Fuck–” You try to moan for him, you try to beg, but he stops you by squeezing your cheeks tighter. 

“Fuck, what?” He asks, feeling his own orgasm welling up inside of him before he grips the base of his cock, denying him of that pleasure. “You?” 

You nod aggressively, your hand reaching to grip his arms and brace yourself. 

“Say it,” he demands, releasing his cock and using his other hand to run his fingers up your pussy. “Scream it, beg me.”

You choke out the words before releasing a raspy shout, begging a man you barely know to stretch you open, to use you as he sees fit, salivating at the very idea of him doing it more than he already has. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans at the sound of your desperate voice, standing to his feet. He quickly removes the rest of his clothes, the musky scent of him blowing past you as he throws his shirt over your face. “You’d let me do anything right now, wouldn’t you? ”

Instantly you do, trying to adjust your head to knock his shirt away and off of you, only half of it slides away, allowing you to peek at him with one eye.

“Come on, take it.” He says, glancing down at his cock as he stands at the foot of the bed in front of you. “You think I’m going to fuck you?”

“Fuck yourself.” He smiles in a cocky, almost evil way. “Get on it babe.”

Honestly, it’s like you’re seeing tunnel vision. Nothing in this room exists but you and his cock. Entirely tuned into your pleasure, your pussy aching from sensitivity and lack of being stretched open, you’re instantly leaning forward to get to him, leaving your tits abandoned almost instantly.

He watches the way you pull yourself from the bed, acting like an animal as you fall to your knees and take him into your mouth much like you did before. His jaw tenses at your hunger, and he holds back a moan at the way you appear to have lost yourself entirely for him. He doesn’t fuck his hips forward, he doesn’t touch you, he just stands there. Watching you unravel on your knees, feeling your eager tongue try to force a reaction from him. 

“I said to fuck yourself,” He warns, stepping back and pulling his cock from your mouth. “Didn’t you just beg?”

He smiles when he says it, and in your head, you don’t care if it’s some sort of trick or play of words. You’d gladly spread out on the bed and absolutely pound your pussy on your fingers alone if he so much as hinted for you to do it, but at this point his cock is out, and it’s heavy. 

Heeseung is a bit shocked when you shove him back, eyes still glazed over in a way that shows him that you’re not in your right mind. He steps back, allowing you to press him all the way until he’s leaned against the hotel vanity. Raising his brow, kind of impressed, he allows you to hook one leg around him and instantly holds your leg in place to balance you there.

He still says nothing, he doesn’t move past holding your leg in place around him, and his eyes remain on yours as you reach between the two of you and position his cock straight to your hungry cunt. There, he chuckles when your face turns from something that seemed determined, into relief at the stretch of his head entering past your lips. 

Still, he stands, chuckling at how desperate you are to fuck him this way, rather than just turning around and bending over. Surely the position would be easier for you, but then it all makes sense when he feels your lips slacked against his, panting against him as you make attempts to find some sort of rhythm.

You did ask if kissing was allowed, and god, you’re like a fucking animal. He breathes into it, pressing his tongue past your slack lips and tasting the remnants of your panties.

“You’re already so gone,” he whispers into your mouth, feeling your shallow humps on his cock. “I’m hardly even inside of you, I said I could go deep.” 

You don’t really hear those words. Honestly, your body is moving on its own and doing what it can do at this moment. The angle isn’t easy, but you wanted to kiss him so fucking badly.

He pulls out of you though, leaving little reaction for you to do anything other than feel embarrassed by your attempt to fuck yourself on him just for a kiss. He doesn’t expect you to keep going though, apparently, because he’s instantly swirling you around and shoving you to the bed. Bending you over and placing a hand at the back of your head before pressing your face into the blankets. His other hand holding both of your hands behind your back with ease. 

“Better?” He asks, easily positioning his cock and shoving into you with one quick thrust, bottoming out entirely. “Hm?” He adds, pulling out and shoving in again. 

Your mouth is open in a silent moan at the intense stretch, tasting nothing but the fabric of the blanket your face is currently shoved into. 

“Can’t hear you,” He grunts, picking up the pace and pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast that you can barely catch your breath regardless of the blankets already making it difficult. “You like it so fucking deep, don’t you?”

You can’t answer. You can only groan at the feeling of his cock stretching you open repeatedly, at his hand shoving your face further against the mattress until all you can do is tense your body. 

He feels it, your pussy clenching around him so tightly that even he gets the breath knocked out of him. Gripping your hair, he pulls your head up and listens to your gasps for air. His hips slam harder, harder, harder, until he feels the pleasure threaten to hit him. That’s when he stops, burying himself into you entirely before releasing your head and falling forward against you. 

“Don’t fucking move.” He warns, twitching inside of you as he feels you heave for air beneath him. 

You try not to move, but your sensitive body reacts to even the sound of his breath behind your ear. Everything is more sensitive than you could ever imagine your body being. Your bruised and swollen tits are throbbing against the mattress, your clit is pulsing at the fullness of his cock inside of you, and your pussy is struggling still to adjust to his size. It feels fucking immaculate. You want him to move, you want to move. You want to be fucked, obliterated, destroyed. 

“Wait–” You manage to muffle out, knowing full well that it’ll get him to do the exact opposite. 

“I’m not even fucking you,” he laughs, pressing his hips forward a bit more, causing you to whimper in response. 

“Stop, just, give me a second.” You cry out.

“Not how this works.” He laughs, pulling his hips back and pointedly thrusting into you again. “So dumb you forgot how to use your words properly?” 

You nod, smirking against the blankets.

“Liar.” He groans, amused by your little attempts to control how hard he goes. “If you want it harder, all you have to do is beg.”

His hips speed up, this time thrusting into you so hard that the bed itself scoots further forward and bangs against the wall. You yelp in pleasure, rolling your eyes back and wanting so badly to see his face as he fucks you.

“Hee– please.” You groan and he pulls back, wondering if you actually are so lost that you’ve forgotten the colors. 

“Colors, sweetheart. Red for stop.” He goes harder, harder, harder, “Or is this exactly what you want?” 

You shake your head almost aggressively at that, bracing your hands on the bed and pushing your ass back against him. 

It floors him, really, that you’ll ask him to stop and then blatantly ignore your own words by fucking yourself back on him. You’re insane, honestly.

“Please what, then?” He asks out of breath, smiling as he watches you fuck back against him. 

“Let me see you do it.” You whine out, desperate to feel intimate, to feel close. 

He obliges, tilting his head at the request but allowing it nonetheless. You can feel him slip out of you before his fingers replace his cock. He doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your clenched pussy even for a moment as he guides you to roll over and shoves you back on the bed, your legs hanging off the end of it. He braces himself at the end of the mattress, resting his cock against your you as he scissors his fingers inside of you with a smile. 

“Wanna see me fucking ruin you?” He smirks at you, pulling at your legs and guiding you to wrap them around him. “Then watch.”

You do, eyes zoned in on him as he grips tightly at your legs and pulls his fingers out of you. You can’t even catch your breath, which is no longer a shock to you, when he slides back into you. Studying his face as he does it, you can’t tell if he feels good or if this is just a service he does on the regular. You wonder what you’d have to do to break that stone-cold look in his eyes, what it takes to get him to moan without restraint, to show you that you’re also making him feel good.

He fucks you so well, so deep, and god, it becomes so difficult to keep your eyes on him with each painful thrust. The bed continues to knock against the wall, your cries become louder and louder, and finally, fucking finally, you hear him release his breath in a low and guttural moan. 

That’s it. That’s what you want to hear from him, time and time again. 

“Harder,” you urge him, feeling his hands tighten around your legs before he’s releasing them and dropping his hand to your throat. “Harder.” You continue now with a strained voice. 

He does, putting all of his strength behind his thrusts, losing himself momentarily in the moment and squeezing your throat tighter as he grunts out at you with a defeated chuckle.

“Of course, you’d be the one to pull this out of me.” He admits, his smile never falling from his lips as he closes his eyes and listens to the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you. “Of course, you’d be the one to grip my cock like this.”

You’re gone, not even realizing that you’ve been on the edge for a while now in the way his thick cock continuously massages your g-spot. You tighten your legs around him, forcing him to bury himself deep inside of you as you clench and grip around him in a release. 

He allows it, surprising himself for being so lenient, then slides his hand up your throat before releasing it and using two of his fingers to hook your mouth open. There, he watches you drench him, he feels your arousal gushing out of your stuffed pussy and onto the bed, and now, now it’s his turn. 

“That’s it, all over me, baby–” he coos, pulling his hips back and slamming back into you despite your tightened legs around him. “Feel it.” he adds, accenting his words with another particularly deep thrust. 

You’re entirely silent, and he’s loving it as he slides his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding your tongue down and imagining which way he’d like to fill you up. He could watch his seed run down your thighs, he could pull out and fuck your throat until climax, he could pull out and deny himself a bit more, just to see you fall apart more. 

It hits him a bit too fast though, when he’s looking down your throat and watching your eyes slowly open to look at him. There’s the tears, your sensitive pussy probably begging for him to pull out, to give you some relief, to be gentle. He offers one last thing to you, pulling his fingers from your mouth and dragging them down.

There, he rubs against your swollen clit until you’re writhing under him to get away. Still no safe words have been used, and you’re fully capable of stopping him at this moment. But you don’t. So, he doesn’t stop. The sensation of your body writhing, fighting the pain, chasing the smallest hint of pleasure throws him into his release. He presses into you so hard that the bed remains in a slightly tilted position, fitting snugly against the wall as he paints your inner walls with thick, hot cum. 

You whimper at the feeling, legs falling open from around him as your body tries to wiggle away with your post-orgasm shocks. He moans each time, falling forward half way through his orgasm.. 

“You feel that?” He growls against your ear as he fucks his the entire mess into you. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

You listen to him speak, the words matching the pain in your body to such an extent that you’d probably let him keep going if he wanted to. You’d let him break you of all sanity, you’d let him tie you up, use you, abuse you. 

And when he goes silent, his sweat dampened skin raises and he slips out of you with care and a deep sigh of relief. You simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how long you’ve been here, why it took you so long to explore this side of your sexuality, and why you’re not ready for it to be over, despite your aching body. 

You feel his presence leave you for a brief moment and return with a warm and wet towel, and you jolt when it touches between your legs. Your body jolts in aversion at the feeling of the rough material against your clit, but still you try to relax.

“You must be sensitive,” Heeseung says gently with a voice you’ve never heard from him, “They always are after their first time.”

Nodding, you try to pull yourself up and close your legs, but your body feels stiff again. 

“Relax, you’ll probably faint if you try to stand up too fast.” He tries to explain, folding the towel over to clean you with a different side of it. “It’s not like a normal hook up, you know? If you’re gonna let me hurt you, you’ve gotta let me take care of you after.”

Your throat is dry as you lay there, the sensation of even his gentle touches feeling like too much to handle. You feel like you can’t move, so you trust his words and try to relax.

“That’s it, yeah,” He encourages, going to try and help you shuffle your body up to the head of the bead so that you at least have a pillow. “Take your time. You have my number if you ever wanna meet up again.”

With that, Heeseung steps himself into the bathroom and cleans himself up. When he comes back out, he’s already dressed and fixing his hair in the mirror before heading toward the door.

“Wait,” You panic, lifting up quickly and feeling a bit light headed at the sudden movement, “You’re leaving?” 

He smiles at you, nodding. Everything else you do as a newcomer may be fairly expected, but it’s rare when Heeseung ends up with someone who doesn’t want him to leave after. 

“I do have a day job, you know,” He tries to play it off as a joke, but he really didn’t think you expected him to stay after general aftercare. “Stay here and rest up. Check out is tomorrow at eleven so feel free to enjoy the room. Not sure if you noticed, but it’s one of the nicest hotels in the city.”

Oh. Right, you didn’t notice. After all, when you got to the door the room practically didn’t exist to you outside of the floor in front of the bed, the bed, and the ceiling. 

“Red.” You say, unsure if it’ll work.

“You can’t do that.” He finds it sweet, but dangerous nevertheless. He doesn’t sleep over with his  website meetups. He’s here to bring you pleasure and pain sexually, not emotionally. “Like I said, you’ve got my number.”

You’re silent, watching him turn the knob on the door. 

“Oh and,” He pauses, turning to look at you. “Don’t go off with other randoms from the site. Some of them don’t offer the kindness I offered to you today. Ease into it, I’ll be around to help if you need me.”

Wondering if he’s implying that you should only see him when it comes to this sexual dynamic, you nod to him, trying to ignore the fact that he claimed “kindness” was being offered to you. If this was him being kind, you can’t help but wonder what he’s like when he’s…you know, not.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ Reminder to pls pls reblog works from writiers you enjoy ; u ; feedback would also be appreciated! You can also tip through my patreon for early access and other fun stuff!

[passiberri]

Home Bizz Babe - Custom Content Collection

Hi lovelies! I am so excited to release my very very very first cc collection! I have been working on the past few weeks and I've found myself falling in love with blender and the creativity you can put out with it, and I'm so happy that my first set turned out better than I had hoped!

I saw this cute shipping box on pinterest and I wanted to recreate it and as I went along it turned into a set focused on the home business aspect, but can (of course) be used for daily tasks or cluttering as well!

This set contains 7 new meshes, all made by me! (BGC)

All LODS & Low Poly

All Tags & Custom Thumbnails

All objects are decorative

Multiple swatches for the different objects, but I tried to keep them matching!

NOTE  It's not perfect! Even though I wanted it to be, I feel like this set was finished and done and I want to continue on to more projects in the hopes of getting better as I go. I am very much a beginner at blender and cc creation in general, which is why I would also love some constructive critisism (but please be kind I am only human).

All items can be found by searching either 'Passiberri' or 'HBB' in game!

TOU: - Please don't re-upload or claim as your own - Please don't put my items behind paywalls or include my meshes in your builds - Recolors are allowed but please don't laugh at my UV maps HAHA

Please let me know if there is any issues and I'll try my best to solve it!

More info & download on Patreon (free) Love, Passie ♡

[mari-positas]

run

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.

summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.

PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.

word count: 8.6k

a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.

Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.

Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.

That bitch doesn’t do shit.

She never has to lift a fucking finger.

She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.

Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.

Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.

Useless.

Freeloader.

Leech.

You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.

Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.

While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.

Loud.

Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.

His good girl.

You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.

“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.

You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.

It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s a craving, a need.

Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.

“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?

“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”

He’s right.

Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.

It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.

Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.

All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.

“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?

Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.

Please, Daddy. More.

Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”

Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.

He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.

“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.

Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”

Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.

Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.

You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.

He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.

But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”

“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”

Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.

A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”

Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.

“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.

“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.

“Okay.”

Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.

He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.

“I can take her.”

Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.

“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”

Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”

Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”

Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”

“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”

He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”

“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”

Joel’s lips pull into a tight line. 

Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.

He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.

“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.

“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”

His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.

Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.

Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”

“Tess—”

“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”

Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”

“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”

He hesitates. He’s still not sure.

It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”

It always feels a bit strange to be outside.

But being outside without Joel?

It feels even stranger.

When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.

“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.

“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”

She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.

“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”

Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”

She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.

“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.

Silence falls over the both of you.

“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”

It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.

The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.

“This is incredible,” you gasp.

“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”

Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.

“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.

Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”

You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.

As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”

“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”

Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”

As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.

It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?

But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.

Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”

You hesitate.

“How—how long have you known each other?”

“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”

You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.

“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”

Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.

“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”

Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”

“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.

“What happened?”

She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”

Oh.

Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”

Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.

You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.

And it wanders straight to Joel.

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”

Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”

Suddenly, your eyes snap open.

There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.

“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”

The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.

Confused, you glance up at her.

“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”

Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”

A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.

“A chance to what?”

“Run.”

Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”

“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”

All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.

“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”

“But what if I don’t want to run?”

Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”

You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”

“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”

“Tess—”

She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”

“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”

Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”

Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”

“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.

“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”

“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”

She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”

“Please, just take me back to him!”

You start to follow her.

“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.

He’s furious. Livid.

Joel paces back and forth on the porch.

“Where the fuck are they?”

The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”

“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”

“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”

“What?”

Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.

Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.

Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.

“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”

“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.

Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.

It needed to be done.

He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.

Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”

Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.

Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.

“Joel, take a fucking breath—”

“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.

“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”

Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”

Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.

“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”

Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”

His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.

She’s lying to him.

“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”

Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”

Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?

Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?

She’s not sure which stings more.

“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”

He ignores the burn of her scorching words.

“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”

“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”

Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”

“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.

Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.

Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.

“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”

Tess stands her ground and says nothing.

Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.

“Ow, fuck!”

You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.

You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?

In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.

Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.

Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.

Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?

Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.

You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.

Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.

Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.

You’re free.

You may very well die, but you would die free.

Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.

Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.

Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?

You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.

A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.

It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.

At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.

He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.

Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.

“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.

He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.

“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.

It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.

No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.

“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”

“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.

Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.

Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.

“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”

“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”

He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”

“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.

Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.

Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.

Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.

You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”

You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.

“You’re—you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”

Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.

You’re drenched.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”

Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”

“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.

Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.

Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.

High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.

Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.

Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.

Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.

Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.

“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”

“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”

“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.

You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”

“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”

He hushes you.

“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.

Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.

Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You melt around him at his praise.

Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”

“Never,” you repeat, softly.

Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.

Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.

“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.

A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”

He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.

Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”

You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.

His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.

Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.

You’re right there with him.

“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”

You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.

“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”

It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.

Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.

“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”

Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.

You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.

Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.

You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.

divider credit to @/saradika 🖤

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

[ao3scrapesearch]

Alright! Sorry for being so absent today! I was building a tool so you can all check your own names on demand.

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(Made some quick edits to the post on 04-May-2025 to update information a bit!)

[kitimeq]

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ better than revenge 🤍 rafayel 祁 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ೃ࿔pairing: lads rafayel x reader

ೃ࿔summary: rafayel did not come home to me three banners in a row so i gave him a mommy kink and delayed gratification out of pure spite. how about this u shrimp i’m so mad.

ೃ࿔word count: 1.9k

ೃ࿔tags: 18+, smut, pure smut, let him suffer the consequences of his actions, i wrote it in like 20 minutes don’t take this seriously, p in v (because i’m a good person at the end of the day he should be grateful), delayed gratification, mommy kink, i love my men a little bit pathetic, pure filth i’m sorry, argument, but they love each other of course they do!!! begging, it somehow got angsty??? What the HECK is going on in my head i’m not sure anymore. i freaking hope i will get that god of the tides or else…….

NOT checked for errors, i’m sorry!! It is a crime of passion this time.

!!DON’T you DARE read if you’re not 18+!!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rafayel was so regretful and you could see that—in the way his brows furrowed, his arms holding your frame tightly, his eyes never leaving yours, tears already glistening on his eyelashes. You could also hear that— in his whimpers and mewls, soft moans and whines that were leaving his lips uncontrollably at this point. And you could definitely feel that—in the way he was desperately kissing at your cheeks, neck and shoulders, leaving wet skin behind; in the desperate rutting of his hips against your closed thighs.

And this one time you allowed yourself to feel satisfaction because of the state you managed to put him in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, please.” He whined against your skin, his face nuzzling into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His arms held you tightly, his hips never stopping its erratic movements against your leg, sliding your skirt up in the process, desperate to feel your bare skin against his hard member. “Cutie, please. I already apologized so many times, just—please. Please, cutie? Let me in, yeah?” He looked into your eyes again, his gaze full of pleading and desperation, and you forced yourself to stay indifferent.

“Raf, no.” You answered, even though you wanted him too. But you couldn’t give in yet, not when you wanted to mess with him more for the way he treated you not so long ago. “First you scolded me for not talking to you, even though you knew that I had a rough week at work. And then, when I visited you, you called me, and I quote Rafayel, irritably clingy.” You answered, keeping your face turned away from him.

You still remember how you came into his home today, ecstatic to see him because you missed him the whole time you were away, hugging him and kissing at his mouth and cheeks happily only for him to push you away. The image of him turning his head away from you, his hand slightly pushing you away, a pout on his lips, is still vivid in your mind, making your heart squeeze painfully.

He didn’t care that you were truly busy, your legs aching from a whole week of fighting SSS-class Wanderers, your head begging for some rest. And instead of comforting you, he gave you his attitude, rejected your affection, called you clingy. You knew that most of the time he was not speaking seriously, and that he was prone to exaggeration and dramatics, but this time, you knew that you didn’t deserve such treatment.

You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine: you waited until he calmed down, then proceeded to seduce him, and when he became desperate and ready to get down to business, you were the one who pushed him away this time, refusing to let him in.

And he wasn’t taking it very well, especially after your time apart. Your previous touches ignited a flame within him, filling him with desire so tangible it was practically pouring out of him.

“So, let’s see who the clingy one really is now.” You added, and squeezed your tights even tighter, his hot breath warming your left cheek.

“Nooo, no, no, no. You know that I didn’t mean it, cutie. It was just, just a bad joke. A mistake I really regret. I really do.” His face nuzzled your cheek, hips still moving against your leg. His whimpers never-ending. “I love when you touch me. Kiss me. Hold me. I love it, you know that, you do.”

“Well, sometimes it would be great if you actually showed it to me instead of being mad at me for having a job.”

“I will! I promise, I will. I promise. I’m sorry.” He brought your body closer to himself, his arms going up and down your waist in a comforting gesture. “Let me in, please, you—you riled me up and—and left me, and I can’t, I can’t, I need to be inside you, please.”

“Rafayel…” You breathed out, your hands going to cup his warm cheeks, his pleading eyes meeting yours. You couldn’t give in that easily. “No.”

He choked out a cry.

And you saw how he snapped, his jaw tightened and eyes closed, one tear slipping away. Then another, and another, until he completely broke down, his face now wet, a pout on his lower lip, his hands touching your whole body erratically.

“Please. I’ll be good. I will.” He whimpered, completely out of control. You knew that until you gave him your consent, he would not force you to do anything. And the way he respected your wishes, although his whole body was trembling while he knew, he felt that you wanted him too despite your negations, was starting to made your resolve wither. “I’ll make you feel s’good. S’good like I always do, just—please. Open up for me?”

You shook your head and his lower lip trembled in response, his head going to rest on your shoulder, his hair wet and cold, making you shiver. He was sweating so bad. His hips were still rutting against your leg, but you knew that it wasn’t nearly enough for him; the friction only made him feel more impatient.

He choked out another broken cry, took your hand in his, kissed your knuckles, and continued kissing up your arm. You didn’t know how long you’ll be able to keep denying him, it was the first time you saw him acting so desperate, so pathetic for you and your need to comfort him was starting to become unbearable.

His glossy eyes met yours and you saw how red his lips were from how much he had been biting them. He leaned down and placed a soft, wet kiss on your lips. One. Two. Three kisses. All of them gentle, all of them apologetic.

“Please.” He whispered into your lips. Another kiss came, as soft and warm as the ones before. “—M—Mommy, please. I’m sorry.” The word that slipped from his lips was new, your eyes widening, your core squeezing on nothing but air.

Oh, god.

“Will you forgive me? Mommy, please, w—will you?” You looked at his face between his soft, gentle kisses and you’ve noticed how red he was, the embarrassment spreading up from the tips of his ears, down to his chest. “L-Let me make you feel good. I’ll be a good boy. The best boy.”

Your head was spinning, your cheeks turning red too. You couldn’t find it in yourself to hide how much you liked when he called you that way. God, what was he doing to you?

“Mommy, let me in. I need you. I need you s’bad I—” He opened his eyes and pressed a kiss to your brow and eyes, his hands shakily caressing your hair. “Don’t be mad anymore, okay? I just—I just can’t live without you that’s why I—That’s why I said these things. I always worry that you’ll forget about me and that’s why I’m gettin’ so defensive and mean. But I know you won’t, because you love me, and I love you and—i’m sorry.” He looked into your eyes and you had a feeling that if he won’t stop talking he was going to make you cry too.

You hugged him to yourself tightly and he reciprocated the hug immediately, his head resting on your chest. He sniffed and started to calm down, his body no longer shaking.

“I do love you, Rafayel.” You said into his hair, and you made him look up again, your hands going to grab his wet cheeks. His eyes glistened with hope, his lips swollen and wet. He looked so adorable that you couldn’t be mad at him anymore. “Next time you’ll miss me, just text me okay? Tell me how you feel, and no matter how busy I will be, I will find time to at least send you a voice message. And I will try to keep you updated when I’m away on missions.” He nodded happily, and you swiped the tears off of his cheeks. “But please, don’t push me away when I miss you just as badly. I get hurt too.”

“Yes. Yes, I won’t, I promise. I do.” He answered and kissed the palm of your hand, nuzzling into it. “I’m really sorry. I will never do that again. I swear.”

“Okay.” You answered quietly and then loosened up your thighs, making a place for him between your legs. His breath came out shakily, his cock immediately landing on top of your panties. Your skirt had been pushed up long ago, the material now resting on your stomach, giving him an easy access to where he wanted to be buried in from the very beginning.“Now come to me, my little fishie.”

He pressed a wet kiss on your mouth once again, and before you knew it he quickly grabbed your panties to the side and slid right into you, making you gasp both in surprise and out of pleasure.

He slipped the tongue between your lips and kissed you without mercy, his hips snapping quickly and erratically, the rhythm uneven, the force of the thrusts relentless.

Suddenly, he cried into your mouth, his whole body shuddering and then going completely still. You felt the reason why a second later.

The warmth spread inside you, overwhelming your senses.

“F—Fuck, sorry, I—I didn’t mean to…So fast…” He managed to utter, his body still shaking in the aftershocks of his sudden orgasm. Your hands went up to his hair, stroking the strands gently, showing him that you didn’t mind, wanting him to calm down and let himself drown in the pleasure.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well.” His face was red, his eyes avoiding yours, and you smiled gently at him. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and swiped your hand on his chest affectionately. “My sweet baby boy.”

“Yeah, yours.” His hips started to move again, making you moan in surprise. You wrapped your legs around him and he put one of his arms under your back, lifting you in order to make his thrusts reach deeper. “Always, yours. Only yours.” The pace was getting quicker, your moans mixing with his grunts, your heartbeats although unsteady, seemed to match each other’s tempo.

“M-mommy can I—Can I come inside again? I—I can’t stop.” He almost whispered into your ear, and you shuddered, the pleasure spreading throughout your whole body in the form of goosebumps. His lips were not leaving your body, pressing kisses on any patch of skin he could reach. “I missed you too much. You’re so warm. So safe.”

Rafayel’s beautiful eyes met yours, the purple somehow standing out in the darkness of the night. He send you a gentle smile, his thrusts slowing down, the movements becoming more precise and controlled.

“I don’t want the night to end, cutie.” He said quietly, as if he was sharing a secret. His hands cupped your cheeks and he studied your face, searching for any sign of pleasure. He wanted to know if he was making you feel as good as he promised he would. “Let me make it all better. I will show you how sorry I truly am, my love.”

The night was just getting started. And after several hours of moving rhythmically against each other, loosing yourselves in your passionate embrace, the sunrise was a witness to Rafayel’s vow; your wet bodies and tangled limbs a good enough proof of his fulfilled promise.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

GOD i’m so embarrassed. I wrote it in like half an hour and it SHOWS forgive me. I’ve never in my life written something so short and filthy. If u liked it screenshot it bc i’m not sure i will let it haunt tumblr for long 💀 UPDATE: OKAY I HEAR U I WON’T DELETE IT I SWEAR!!!! I had no idea it would be SO therapeutic for all of us thats actually so sad dndbsb ENJOY!

Better hope i’ll get that god of the tides or else rafayel will not know peace…. I will continue to bully him with my pen i swear to god.

[coolpuppy12]

Introducing the Doo Doo Save File - Version One!

Disclaimer:

This save is still very much a work in progress. While most things appear to be complete (such as builds), there's still a lot to be done. So, keep that in mind. Also, I tried my best to playtest everything, but this is a HUGE save. So, it's possible I missed things. If I did, feel free to let me know!

TOU:

Please don't claim as your own. Don't reupload my builds as your own. Basically, don't be weird. Just give credit please as this took centuries to do lol.

Special Thanks!

EDIT: Ahhh! Big thank you to @lasabarcassims for helping me set up SimFileShare! Please check out their save as well. It’s amaaaazing.

Shout out to @aaliyahnavI @doit4thesims @forever-lbsims @senselesssims for playtesting this monstrosity. I greatly appreciate you all!

Thanks to @simmerapple (gallery: ImpossibleBelle) and @simkuza (Gallery: Mimilagu) for checking out the save and sending some of their amazing sims to use!

Lastly, I want to thank everyone for their continued support and encouragement! When I started this thing, I was just bored and looking for a way to improve my game. I honestly did not expect to finish it, nor did I expect so many of you to care lol. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. It's still very rough around the edges, but I hope it brings you some enjoyment!

Also, don't hesitate to tag me in any posts! I want to see my precious Doo Doo brought to life!

Doo Doo V1 (with rentals - updated): download here!

Alt. DL here!

Doo Doo V1 (without rentals - outdated): download here!

Alt. DL here!

MORE INFO AND SCREENSHOTS BELOW:

Here is an overview of everything:

16 worlds redone (Mt. Komorebi, Sulani, Selvadorada, and Tomarang still need some TLC)

Some updated townies with lore, relationships, jobs, etc. etc.

New townies!

New clubs and holidays

LOTS of packs used, so not BG friendly

For Version 2, I hope to finish this save completely. When will that be? That's a good question lol

What's not included:

All the packs - I don't own (and probably never will lol) HSY, Werewolves, Lovestruck, and MWS. Also missing most of the kits.

Specialty lots (i.e. police station, magic realm) won't be touched until Ver. 2

CC, Mods, and Tips

If you want the townies’ relationships to stay intact, I HIGHLY recommend downloading MCCC. If not, you shouldn’t have any issues playing the save, but some relationships will eventually be deleted due to the culling system. Instructions here!

I did use one piece of CC, but it is absolutely not required in order to download this save. It's the Modern Family Portrait by RAVASHEEN! Download only if you want some cute portraits of the families.

For this save, I grouped some of the worlds together. You don't have to play this way, it's just a note to consider:

Oasis Springs, Del Sol Valley, and StrangerVille

Newcrest, Willow Creek, and Magnolia Promenade

Windenburg, Forgotten Hallow, Glimmerbrook, and Henford

San Myshuno, Brindleton Bay

San Sequoia and Evergreen Harbor

The other worlds? They're just on their own for now.

PHOTOS!

[pedgito]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Tommy Miller x reader x Joel Miller

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | You need something to ease the pain, but Joel and Tommy aren't very generous.

author's note | this isn't for everyone, please read the tags. i'm already working for a follow-up on this, but if you decide to read this - thank you!! <3 also ily and thank you for the betas @gracieheartspedro @amanitacowboy

content warning | DDDNE — noncon & dubcon, there's not defined consent, reader is both drugged and has a head injury that is blurring the lines of reality, early outbreak days, dark!tommy, dark!joel, unprotected piv, restraints, degrading, deepthroating, creampies, this is literally them fighting over a shiny new toy, joel spitting on reader, marking/claiming, very little aftercare. this is dark fic, don't engage if you don't like.

word count — 5.3k

You had struck gold.

On, well, drugs.

There was the saying—only the strongest will survive. But, you’ve seen a clicker take down a man double its size without an ounce of struggle.

Then again, they were literal killing machines.

You’ve learned that sanity is what has kept you alive.

And lately, yours had been slipping.

It was the anxiety, the lack of food and water, the seventh group you’ve filtered into torn to bits overnight and because you were so weary – always sleeping above ground level and never really letting yourself succumb to deep sleep – had managed to slip away in the knick of time.

Regardless, you needed the drugs.

You’ve been on the run for two weeks, completely alone, raiding every hospital and pharmacy you’ve come across with no luck, all wiped clean.

Sometimes, the anxiety made your chest hurt — blood pumping into your ears so loud you couldn’t hear anything else, too aware of the functions within your own body.

It has gotten explicitly worse the past couple days and when you finally find some luck, therein follows the immediate feeling that it was too good to be true.

There was a catch.

This was a trap.

Well, fuck it.

What did you have to lose anyways?

You’ve been in this dilapidated house before, months ago when you were passing through with another group. So, when you find the bags, you’re wondering if this was just a mistake.

Someone had left these behind, surely.

There wasn’t anyone in the nearest vicinity, not a speckle of life anywhere to be found.

So, you dig.

There’s a treasure trove of bottles all half full or almost empty, scanning through the names until you find something worth taking.

Diazepam.

It could work, it would work.

By the looks of it, there’s only ten pills left and if you used them sparingly enough, you could stretch it out for a couple months, long enough to continue your search.

The end goal was always civilization, hopeful that you could stumble upon a well-established group that would be kind enough to take you in. 

Though, the outlook was grim.

You stuff the bottles of pills into your coat pocket and continue to dig, unsure why you’re feeling so greedy. Some of the labels are ripped and unintelligible, some of the bottles simply don’t pique your interest, crouched on the floor and burrowing through someone else's belongings like a rat.

You’re so focused that you don’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late.

“Don’t move.”

The voice is sharp, cuts through the silence like a knife and you freeze, hunched over and caught red-handed.

“Turn around slowly.”

You comply, unwinding yourself carefully, heart pounding in your chest.

There’s one man standing in the doorway, another a few steps ahead. 

They share a similar build and face, undoubtedly related. 

You raise your hands to show no threat, hands shaking slightly. “I’m just passing through,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

The closer man takes a step forward, but the gun doesn’t waver. “You with anyone?”

“No.” You hate how weak you sound, “No—just….just me,”

Dumbass. You should have lied.

Your hands are shaking noticeably and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or adrenaline or relief that you’ve scored something.

It doesn’t matter. 

“Empty your pockets,” his voice is indescribable, but demanding, eyes lingering briefly to the quieter man behind him that lingered like a shadow, as you hesitate, the gun clicks, “I’m not askin’.”

“I didn’t—take,” you panic, licking nervously at your lips, “I—you don’t understand,” you know they can hear the shuffle of the half-empty pillow bottle in your coat pocket, clear as day, “please don’t kill me, god—”

The idea seemed more intriguing now than it ever has.

The two men share a look, clearly one they have passed along a million times before.

“Turn around,” the man demands, “keep your hands up,”

You follow instructions with minor hesitancy, hearing the footsteps grow closer before the hands spread around your waist and up your ribs and you catch the gentle woosh of longer hair against your cheek that ultimately belonged to the other man.

You’re not sure whyor where the courage takes hold – it was stupid, outnumbered and unskilled when it came to combat, you were fighting a losing battle.

Your elbow swings back into the other man’s ribs and he grunts, roughly grabbing you by the back of your neck before shoving you at the one wielding the revolver, “Screw this, I’ll just fuckin’ shoot ‘er,” the voice belonging to the one with the menacing scowl and hard gaze.

“Joel, slow your goddamn roll,” it was a tidbit of information that he shouldn’t have let slip, feeling the hand at your bicep as it twisted behind your back tightly, gasping at the sharp sting of pain.

“Kill first, take later,” Joel reminds the other man, “we’ve been over this, Tommy.”

Joel. Tommy.

Brothers, clearly.

The outbreak was still fresh in hindsight, only two years since the attacks on the city started. It was clear that some people thrived in environments like this, feeding off violence to achieve their goal.

You’d stumbled into the wrong hands, all of your luck having officially ran out.

You’re not sure why they decide to spare you, but they do.

Time passes — seconds that feel like hours, before the butt of a gun is making contact with the side of your head. 

You’re out like a light, meeting the floor with an unkind thump that splits open the skin near your temple, blood pooling around the wound and along the dilapidated hardwood.

“She’s your responsibility,” Joel tells his brother, shoving the gun into his chest, “take care of it.”

—

There was no expectation of waking until it happened.

Everything felt fuzzy, light, more welcoming than you expected. You could feel the cool sheets under your skin, a hastily applied bandage to your head, but your hands were bound.

There was an uneasy feeling to the picture painted before you, the usual diluted blues and green and greys of the apocalypse replaced with something warm.

You moan slightly, shifting as you blink to collect yourself, immediately faced with one of the men from earlier with a different kind of concern etched on his face. 

As far as you could tell, he was alone.

And much more docile.

“Oh, woah, little lady,” he says, all charm in his thick southern twang, “you took quite a spill earlier.”

You moan again, this time in response, “You—he…hit me.”

“Joel? Yeah, he ain’t much of a people person,” Tommy explains, “he left for a bit, though. I patched ‘ya up, gave you some meds to help with the pain,”

He notices your gaze drifting, like it was too hard to keep focus despite your valiant effort. 

You nod in compliance.

You can feel the hand that settles between your thighs, a soft caress as Tommy checks gingerly at your wound, the press of his fingers digging into the supple flesh at the inside of your leg.

“I think you’ll be right as rain, probably best to keep you here for a couple days until we can let you go,” he admits, “seems a little negligent and unfair to force you outside to deal with infected in your condition.”

Tommy liked his trinkets, though.

Sweet, shiny things that peaked his interest.

There’s a softness to your features that has been long lost on many, just the subtle glint of weakness he needs.

“I’m so sleepy,” you slur tiredly, groaning softly as you turn to your side, feeling the hand shift from between your legs to graze up the curve of your ass and against your back.

It was a nice touch, comforting — warm, safe. 

No part of you can recognize who the hand belongs to, not in this state of mind, the room swirling with faint orange from the setting sun — was it a bedroom? 

Living room? 

Or, it was a dream. The afterlife, even.

Maybe you had died and this was the sick way your body was deciding to cope, cared for by your captors.

But, nothing about Tommy outwardly screamed danger.

Not like the way Joel's bared teeth, scruffy beard and stench of blood had. 

No, Tommy was sanitary, preened and clean; a wolf dressed up in sheep’s clothing. 

You can’t muster the care to worry about this now.

“Get some rest, darlin’,” he encourages, the touch moving to your hair now, curling the strands around his fingers gently.

You give into the medicine slowly creeping through your veins. Sleep overtakes you with little resistance. There is only darkness for a while, the absence of thought or feeling, until there’s the strange sensation you are being moved and manhandled. 

Your limp body in someone’s arms, then in their lap, against their chest before you’re pressed into the mattress again but on your stomach, head carefully angled to avoid injury or irritation. Not that it mattered, your entire body was numb now.

It is a new kind of warmth that blankets you.

You can distantly hear a voice before you slip back into unconsciousness.

“... sweet little thing,” he says.

The passage of time feels endless.

The weight in the bed beside you comes and goes, the room filtering between light and dark, unsure how many days have passed. Occasionally you wake to drink water or take a few sparing bites of food, just enough to placate your angry stomach as you’re continuously fed meds to remain complacent.

It isn’t that you mind—you don’t. It was the best care you’ve had in months.

Actually, you don't ever remember being cared for like this.

There’s only ever one set of footsteps, no voices aside from one, and the constant looming feeling that he was around. You weren’t unsettled by it, rather comforted. 

Tommy was being unbelievably kind despite your actions—he could have killed you outright, but instead, he was caring for you. You weren’t sure if his brother would be delighted at the idea, but he wasn’t here right now.

You can hear the faint chirp of crickets and a room blanketed in blue when the bed dips under the weight of someone sitting down again, and warm fingers brush across your cheek.

“Hey there,” Tommy’s voice sounds from behind you. “glad to see you awake.”

He sounds genuine.

You turn slightly to peer up at him, vision still hazy.

His eyes are crinkled with a slight smile, a thick mustache covering his upper lip. He’s stripped out of his jacket, clad in a shirt and jeans, and his touch still hasn't left you. Instead, it grows.

Explorative, you lie still.

There’s a wondrous edge to his gaze, his touch roaming the expanse of your body, clean of dirt and grime and suddenly you realize you’re dressed in fresh clothes, pants folded at the end of the bed. There was only a shirt and a thin pair of underwearing covering your body.

He had bathed you? Changed you?

Tommy notices the panic of the realization but soothes your worry with a touch that is gentle against your forehead, a much smaller bandage covering your head injury.

It’s weird, the faint glow that surrounds him.

Part of you wonders if this is still just a dream—maybe you’ve been dead for days.

His touch is so warm, guiding your legs apart as you gasp, his fingers resting over your core like they weren’t meant to be there.

“Wait,” you breath, thighs closing instinctively, “don’t—”

“Shhh,” Tommy soothes, the fingers of his opposite hand running along the side of your face, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he traces the flesh, “s’alright, you’re still lookin’ a little sleepy, sugar. Go on, you can rest,”

You’re only vaguely aware of how your bindings have changed, spread out at either end of the bedpost rather than bunched over your head, somehow feeling more restrictive than the latter.

Sleep was incredibly hard to fight, eyes fluttering through the growing curiosity of his touches, eventually slipping under the fabric of your panties.

“....well, look at that,” his voice is distant, but he’s met with a wet, warm heat as his fingers slide between your folds, watching as your lips part with the touch, “she loves me, don’t she?”

A soft mumble of a response in protest because it shouldn’t feel this good.

Tommy takes it in stride, the swift whip of his belt as it comes undone.

“Think I can make it quick,” Tommy says mutedly, feeling like you were underwater, “Joel should be back later, but I’ll treat your right, don’t worry,”

As the fabric goes, you come to, eyes widening as Tommy was already stripped of his jeans and underwear, cock hard and proud in his hand as he positioned himself between your legs, a gentle touch of his finger pressing inside of you.

The stretch makes you gasp, the fullness even more apparent as he adds another finger, pushing deep. It’s too much, the intensity of it all as you gasp and squirm against the bed. It was akin to something your body craved but your mind hasn’t caught up to yet.

It’s good, though—almost dizzyingly so. Tommy smirks; he knows it.

There’s a tightness in your chest that screams danger, but every time you open your mouth to protest, only a moan comes out.

“Fuck,” Tommy groans as he watches your eyes fall shut, finger working loudly inside of you against your squelching heat, “how am I supposed to wait with you so ready for me?”

He wasn’t. You could feel him shifting instead, hands spread out over your thighs as the head of his cock pushed between your folds—up, down, his face tilted to examine the sight before him, neglecting the tugs against your bindings in protest.

“Just watch,” he murmurs with a nod, barely above a whisper, “you’re gonna come on my cock before you even realize what’s happenin’, darlin’.”

“Tommy, please—” you choke, but everything else is a soft cry as he pushes inside of you.

His hips snap forward, filling you in one swift motion. 

The stretch is intense and overwhelming, a gasp of pain ripping from your throat.

You nearly whimper at the sensation after, his hand twisting around to your back to push up, arching you off the mattress as he rocks his hips in a steady timing—so tender in his affections, now languid thrusts drawing out a heat in your core that you didn’t ask for but can’t fight against.

The fight was useless, no give to the fabric tied around your wrist, the weight of his body against you as his hands spread out on the sheets beside the pillow under your head, his head level with your own but his eyes focused on the way your cunt sucked his cock up to the base.

He looks up briefly, tears in your eyes as they flutter shut in continued exhaustion.

“Don’t pass out on me now,” he teases when your eyes threaten to close, hips snapping forward to knock you back into the waking world, “I want you here for this, darlin’.”

He shifts slightly and your head is thrown back with an involuntary moan, every thrust dragging against that sweet spot inside of you that makes the world go white around the edges. 

He was right—he’s fucking right—and there’s no saving you from his cock as a full-body shiver invades you. You mumble something unintelligible, head throbbing with a dull pain.

“Look at you,” Tommy breathes and you force yourself to focus, unable to look away as his thumb dips between you both, teasing your clit with feather-light circles that make you tremble.

His touch is surprisingly kind, not indicative of his intentions or actions. He wants to make you feel good, he’s relying on it, actually. And you hate how it was working. Your walls clamp down tight on his cock as he grunts deep in his chest, pace increasing to an unrelenting speed that echoes through the room, skin on skin.

“God, please,” you moan, praying to an unknown, barely recognizing the needy pitch of your own voice. You tug at the fabric binding once more out of reflex, not even sure what you’d do if your hands were free.

He grins, low and predatory. “That’s it,” he says with a punctuating thrust, “Take it. All of it.”

His name is the only word left in your vocabulary for a moment, over and over and over again until he’s pulling out of you suddenly, hot streams of cum spreading out of your stomach and chest as he shoves your shirt up, the loss sudden and devastating despite your mind telling you otherwise.

Tommy slumps to your side after a moment, catching his own breath with a hand over his chest and his erection flagging between his thighs, biting your lip to stifle the quiet sobs as the realization of your situation had come into full-view.

No haze, no confusion, the medication wearing off. You were left with nothing but pain.

–

He’s sleeping beside you, has been for a while.

He redressed eventually, unsure as you had closed your eyes to feign sleep.

But, he looked so fucking peaceful.

He hadn’t bothered helping you much either, only slipping your underwear back on and shifting up the flimsy blanket to cover your shivering body, the cold biting at your skin—and you can feel the dried cum against your belly, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your skin.

You swallow the dryness in your mouth as you study him, the shadows under his eyes, the flutter of his lashes against his skin. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse on his face.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the creak of floorboards outside the room, and you freeze. 

It could only be one person.

“Tommy,” A voice booms in the distance, “Tommy!”

Tommy stirs beside you, groggy and unfocused, a slow realization dawning as he registers the call. It was Joel’s voice.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, pushing up from the mattress.

By the panic on his face and the minimal calculation in your head—you should be dead.

He was supposed to take care of the problem.

Instead, he’s treated you like a plaything. A toy.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch him. He puts on his boots with haphazard urgency, more worried about Joel finding him beside you rather than your obvious state of living.

He meets your eyes for half a second, but there’s nothing there—not pity, not guilt, nothing.

A coward, through and through.

He ducks out the door before you can respond, leaving it ajar enough that you hear Joel’s accusation cut through the silence.

“...always makin’ me clean up your fuckin’ mess,” He argues, “if you hadn’t left those bags out and let me shoot her then—”

“I know, I know,” comes Tommy’s reply, more distant now, but you can still hear him scrambling for an excuse. “Just hold on a sec!”

You can hear the heavy footsteps approach, “Just get the fuck outta here for a few hours before I kill you too,” he threatens, though it sounded empty.

A creeping fear begins to settle in as you realize this is it—this time, there’ll be no reprieve.

When he approaches, his shadow creeping through the door, you have no choice but to face him. Hands still bound, you were helpless.

“Rise and shine, little thief,” his voice carries.

Joel examines the room with careful eyes, taking note of the half-eaten food and dirtied rags. It doesn’t take a genius for him to realize his brother had dragged this out for a while. Joel was only gone a few days, but he’d been keeping you sustained and alive without needing to.

And against Joel’s instruction.

Joel shakes his head in silence before he’s pulling the gun out of his jeans, finger on the trigger and you don’t know why—but you beg.

“I–please, please,” you begin, your voice raw, “I don’t wanna die. Joel, please.”

He flinches at you using his name, stepping closer as he presses the barrel into your forehead and cocks the lever back, “I’ll do anything. I’ll help—I’ll be…be good. Tommy kept me alive for a reason, r—right? He could have killed me too.”

“He can’t,” Joel tells you, “my mistake for thinkin’ he could.”

You struggled against the bindings as you kick your feet, shoving the sheet away to reveal your state of undress, “He did a lot worse,” you snap at him, “you—your brother, you’re fucking monsters, no real men would do what he did.”

That has him lowering the gun just a fraction, like he’s considering it. 

The shadows of doubt flicker over his eyes, and in that moment you see your chance.

“I can help. Steal—lay low,” you attempt to convince him, helplessness thick in your voice. “You don’t gotta kill me. I’ve just been trying to survive.”

“You think I believe a word comin’ outta your mouth?” Joel says, but now it feels more like he’s trying to convince himself, “Why were you stealin’ our meds? You got some camp you were takin’ ‘em back to?”

“No,” you reply quickly, insistent, “no—it was just me. I just—I needed something, anything to get rid of this feeling that I have all the time. It’s constant panic.”

Joel seems to pause, a silent deliberation. He eyes your figure, strung up and helpless. It was worse than just killing you outright.

“Or, let me go,” you plead, hoping desperation might unearth some small fragment of mercy. “I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again. I swear.”

His jaw tightens, and you think he’s about to pull the trigger. Instead, he curses under his breath and lowers the gun entirely.

“You’re pathetic,” he spits, tossing the gun aside and opening his knife to cut at your bindings, “Get up.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging your arms over yourself for some semblance of modesty, unmoving on the bed.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “I don’t trust you. You’re gonna prove yourself or die tryin’ to.”

He throws you your old pile of clothes folding on the table beside your bed, reeking up mildew.

“Get changed, now,” He demands, but doesn’t leave,

Fine. Whatever.

You shift to your knees and strip the top over your head, wincing at the throb of pain between your legs as Joel seems to freeze, spotting the mess dried on your stomach.

“You ain’t never shot a gun, have you?” Joel asks suddenly, “Killed anyone?”

You shake your head impishly.

“I’m good at being quiet, sneaking around,” you admit, aware of the way his eyes examine your breasts, the gentle curve as you pull the shirt over your head and toss it aside, “At least—I was.”

Letting you go was risky, but shooting you now seemed like a waste.

You had nothing to offer and Joel didn’t need that on his conscience.

Not that he really cared, but disposing of your body was more trouble than it was worth.

You recognize that same flicker of greed in Joel’s eyes that was prevalent in Tommy’s.

For Joel, it was more subdued and brought out by the sight that his brother had already staked a claim over you when he shouldn’t have, leaving Joel to clean up his mess.

He really didn’t appreciate that.

Luckily, Joel knew just how to fuck with Tommy; stealing his favorite toy.

He steps closer, a dangerous grin spreading across his face as you freeze, pausing your movements as you sit stripped down to your underwear before him.

“Didn’t even clean ya up, did he?” Joel mocks using the barrel of his revolver to motion at your chest, growing increasingly irritated at the situation before him.

“No, he didn’t,” you admit sheepishly, watching Joel’s free hand disappear behind your head until he could tip your neck back, exposing your bare chest as he gathered saliva in his mouth to dribble the spit over your chest.

You hated to admit it, but you were pliant.

Like putty in his hands.

“Clean it up,” he demanded.

Your eyes searched for mercy that would never come before dropping to your chest, the glistening mess trickling down to the waistband of your underwear. You stare back up at him nervously, but his face is stoic, unwavering.

You clear your throat softly and trial your fingers through the spit and drag it back up your chest, cleaning away the mess that Tommy had left, using the dirtied shirt to wipe yourself clean.

Before you can muster a response, he’s shoving two fingers past your lips, pressing against the back of your throat so hard that you choke, “He use this too?”

You shake your head impishly, lashes fluttering as he presses his fingers down against your tongue, eyes watering at the sudden intrusion. You sputter around his digits, tasting him and the salt of his palm.

Leaving his fingers in your mouth, he pulls you up to your feet with a matching furiosity to his previous actions that has you paw at his wrist for leverage, eventually releasing his fingers from your mouth with a pop and leaving you slack jawed and breathless. 

You don’t have time to recover, though, before he’s pulling his knife out and slicing clean through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Joel,” it’s a moan this time, breathless. 

He ignores you.

“Gonna show you what a real man does,” Joel says ominously.  

His rough hands push you to the floor, knees hitting the wood with a painful thud as they knock against each other.

“I’ll let you live,” he says gruffly, his own pants unfastened until he can shove them down enough to free his cock, precome already beading at the tip and dripping down his shaft.

He’s hard—so fucking hard—and just the sight of him makes your stomach churn in anticipation and fear, made worse by the hand that grips into your hair, forcing your mouth open as he pushes past your lips with the head of his cock.

“But, it ain’t without you provin’ how much you wanna,”

You gag instantly and Joel tightens his grip against the back of your head. There’s little to no fight in you after the display of power, your breath hitching as he pulls his cock out suddenly, gasping for air before he’s guiding himself back into your mouth, a rough but steady rock of his hips as he holds your head between his palms, fearful that he could kill you like this.

A simple snap of your neck and it would be over.

You were a fool for thinking this would be an easy end for you.

But, at least Joel was upfront about his fucking intentions. 

“Keep lookin’ at me,” Joel seethes, snapping his hips twice and rough as you sputter around his cock, chin slick with your drool, “want you to remember this,”

There’s no choice other than to comply, quick and shallow breaths through your nose as Joel fucks your mouth with little care, the taste of him heady on your tongue as his cock forces down the cries in your throat.

He was making you earn this.

Making you work for the trust, freedom—your life.

He’s relentless, a predator through and through.

There was no haze keeping you compliant, only a faint throbbing at your head and the sight of a powerful man standing over you, fist in your hair as stared up the line of buttons that led to his face, a soft growl in his throat at the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth, eyes rolling back slightly when he pressed too hard.

You knew there wasn’t much choice in the matter, but you weren’t sure how defiant you would be if things were different—it was clear that Joel and Tommy could survive, and in turn, they could keep you alive too—couldn’t they?

You nod gently to his earlier statement, focusing on him as your now free hands roam up under the fabric of his clothes and squeeze, thankful for the brief reprieve as his cock slide back toward the tip of your tongue and rests there, watching his face scrunch and contort as he comes without warning.

It’s thick spurts against your tongue that are blended with his low, guttural groans as he slowly loosens the grip on your hair and offers a low, “Know damn well what’s good for you—like that,” he notes casually.

You wipe hastily at your mouth with your open palm as your rise on shaky legs, eyeing him cautiously before he tuts with his tongue, pushing your hand away, “Ain’t done with you quite yet,”

There’s a split second where you think about making a break for it, eyeing the door with a flicker of hope, but Joel’s grip is tight and forceful, feeling the sharp tug as he pulls you into his lap, facing you toward the bar at the end of the bed, gripping it as he silently guides your hands there—for a moment, you think he’s going to tie you back up like Tommy had, but he doesn’t.

He takes a seat on the center of the mattress and shifts his jeans down and off, your back to him as he settles you between his legs, watching the discarded clothing fall to the floor as you hold your breath.

You can feel the hot press of a palm flat against your back, up your spine as it curves around your shoulder, “You’re gonna go to Tommy after I fuck you,” Joel explains, gripping his cock as he slides it between your folds and presses in slow, gasping at the thickness as it spreads you open, “and tell him how this is all mine,” his hand squeezes at your hip, guiding your back against his cock as you grip at the metal frame, feeling him shift slightly until he’s on his shins, pistoning his hips into you with fervor, “and I don’t,” thrust, a rough grunt following, “fuckin’—” you moan shakily, biting at the skin on your bicep to muffle the noise, “share.”

He’s relentless, really.

His grip is bruising, not holding back in his strength as he guides your hips down against his cock, feeling the sweat in his palms as he breathes heavily behind you.

“Maybe you were a damn blessing,” Joel says softly, maybe not even aware he’s said it aloud until he continues, “been prayin’ for one for a while,”

“I’m—��� You croak, speaking weakly, “I’m not,”

“Dunno,” Joel argues, “ain’t religious either, to be honest,”

You laugh at that, though it was mostly just a soft noise that filters out of your nose as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, frustrated with how much pleasure he was bringing you despite his nature and intention, using you for whatever means he felt was necessary.

“Pussy like this,” He notes with amusement and a tinge of fondness, “goddamn miracle if you ask me.”

Then suddenly, his chest is at your back, hand wrapping around your neck as he pulls you back.

His other hand curls around the inside of your thigh, drifting close to your dripping, swollen cunt.

There isn’t much expectation in a return of pleasure until his fingers are moving against your clit in tandem with his quick thrusts, a begrudgingly welcomed touch as he groans against your shoulder, his teeth biting into the skin until you cry out.

“Difference between Tommy and I,” he states, guiding you over the edge of your orgasm as you shake, head falling back against his shoulder helplessly before he groans low, animalistic in your ear before you feel his grip tighten, hips stuttering as he came deep inside your cunt, “I claim what’s mine.”

Joel didn’t need your response—he just held you tighter, like something earned, a prize won, something no one else would touch again.

When the silence settles around you and you’ve dressed obediently under his command, the only thing stronger than his words was the way your body still remembered both of their touches.

[fungateshortcakes]

Pornstar!Logan NSFW

This work is inspired by @bpmiranda and their own pornstar!Logan smut, which you can find here. Please go and check it out, it's so yummy and i hope I am doing this idea justice.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Up until now, filming a porn video was only something you joked about. But after your job failed you, this simple 'joke' brought you to a whole new carreer path that you would love to explore further, especially if your co-worker was this handsome man that ruined your pussy for everyone else.

Wordcount: 2.3k -ish

Warnings/tags: pornstar!Logan, pornstar!reader, porn with plot, first porn recording, filmed sex, best friends dad porn, squirting, unprotected penis in vagina sex, pussy pronouns, implied blowjob, basically sex with a stranger, dirty talk, doggy style, Logan is older than reader, cumming on pussy, perverted director, mention of threesome (F/F/M), english isn't my first languange (lmk if i missed something!)

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It had always been a joke. All of this - you just joked about it. But now as you stood in front of this building, the filming location, that's when you truly knew that it was in fact not a joke anymore.

You were about to cast in your first professional porn video.

For years you had been telling your friends, if your degree didn't work out, you'd start selling nsfw art. If your job applications would keep getting rejected, you would become a stripper. It was always something you and your friends could laugh about greatly, but it was never really taken serious in the end. That was about to change.

Throughout the last months, you had taken this career path more and more into your field of interest. Your hated your job, the salary, the people there and your boss. You needed a quick change. So you read about becoming a porn actress, watched interviews with stars of this industry, stating how they got into it, what they had to do, how they coped with everything at the start and much more. You felt ready, but you also didn't really, not when you stood in front of this building and knew that in just an hour, you would be having a stranger pounding his cock into your pussy while everyone around watched.

You took a deep breath as you entered and upon stating your name at the reception desk, you were brought to the second floor where you were greeted by the director.

"Ah, there you are! You're (Y/N), right?" he said and shook your hand with a firm grip. He was the manager of all of this. He had been in this industry for years and sounded very nice from the very start. You felt comfortable as you stood in front of him. You nodded your head. "Yeah, that's me. I hope I am not too late?" you asked nervously, biting your lip. You really didn't need to leave a bad expression right on the first day.

He laughed and shook his head "No, don't worry. You're just in time to meet the guy you're gonna work with today. You're gonna like him." he said and winked at you. You had already heard a bit about the man that would, to put it as is, fuck you today. They praised him highly, told you that you should be happy to have the opportunity with him because he gets so many requests from porn actresses every day.

Richie shoved you through a crowd of working people to a cozy break corner for the actors. There he stood. And wow. He already wore his outfit for the upcoming video. It was a plain black shirt, a thick belt and rugged jeans, but damn. He looked good.

Upon seeing you, a smirk spread across his lips and he stood up, hands in his pockets. "That's Mr. Howlett. Your lover for today" Richie chuckled as he introduced you to him.

"Call me Logan, sweets. Nice to meet you, heard a lot about ya" Logan said and his voice alone made your pussy throb. You both shook hands and you told him your name as well. It would be a lie if you said you weren't anxious. Your heart was beating out of your throat. You were intimidated by your work partners looks and the fact that he was a lot more experienced in this field than you. He looked very charming and handsome, picture perfect like some famous hollywood actor. And you were just, well, you. You felt like you couldn't compete with that in the slightest.

The time you had to speak to him, get to know him at least a little bit before his cock was in your mouth, was limited, because you were pulled to different stations by different people left and right, getting you into costume, fixing your make-up and hair, even checking if you had shaved down there properly. It was all so much at once, but Logan was always watching over you, weirdly enough, reassuring you. Truth be told, he saw himself when he looked at you. He was pretty confident by nature, but when he first started out in this business, he was overwhelmed and unsure at first as well. So he felt deep sympathy with you, even if you didn't know that.

Now you stood at the set with your two co-stars, Logan and some other woman who you didn't know the name of because she was so minor to the scene. She was only there to play your best friend from college. Your best friend with a smoking hot single father.

Your nerves were killing you as you stood in the pre-build bedroom with your co-star. You took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. You knew the script, you knew the movements and looks, so there wasn't really anything that could go wrong. Right? "Okay, cameras, lights, action!" Richie yelled over the set. Now there was no going back.

You flopped down on your friends bed with a sigh. "This assigment is killing me. We've been working on it for days now and we aren't getting anywhere" you scoffed. Your on screen friend agreed with you, voicing her anger towards the professor as well.

You started acting like you were starting to unpack your bag when you heard a car engine. Your co-star groaned. "Perfect, now my dad's here. He normally works longer than that" she said. You had never met her dad, he was always at work when you were over. "Lindsay, I'm home!" Logan called before he stepped into the room, stopping in his tracks as he saw you. The camera zoomed in on your slightly shocked face, taking in your agape mouth and how your eyes clouded over. You crossed your leg over the other as warmth spread through your core.

Logan smirked at you, leaning against the doorframe. "So, you are the girl my daughter has been doing that assigment with, I assume? Nice to meet you, I'm her old man." he spoke in his deep voice, extending a warm, strong hand out for you to shake, a knowing look being shared between you as he eyed you up and down, pratically undressing you with his gaze only.

The director yelled cut. You let out a nervous sigh. This worked out way better than you had imagined, but that was just the easy part of this whole thing.

Though, the second Logan pushed the tip of his cock into your sopping pussy with a relieved smile on his lips that wasn't part of the script, you couldn't care less about your insecurities or worries. The words you were supposed to say just came naturally with the way he fucked you open. "Such a greedy little cunt, she is practically sucking me in" he groaned, one hand pushing your head into the pillows of his daughters bed.

"You really needed this, huh? Needed a big fucking cock to pound your pussy. The boys in college just don't cut it, am I right?" He groaned, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around his throbbing shaft. How could a cock feel this good? Logan could ask you the same thing - how could a fucking pussy be this tight and warm and just sopping wet?

Logan watched your face being squished against the pillows, slurring your words while you drooled. He smirked. You were made for this, the camera was eating you up like this. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about using this video when he was at home to get off. He leaned down to your ear, his plush lips kissing and biting at the shell before he whispered something only for you to hear "What a natural you are. Gotta have to request you as my partner more often from now on, don't I?" he was whispering in such a hot, breathless voice, it almost made you cum before you even should. He could feel that. And oh boy did it feed his ego.

"Does it turn you on? Being fucked on your best friends bed? By her dad?" Logan rumbled in character, kneading your tits. It took you a while to get a hold of your thoughts and the script, so Logan used that silence to keep whispering in your ear how fucking pretty your tits were. "Y-yes! I...I love it" you slurred, your voice raw from the moans you couldn't hold back for the life of you.

Logan hummed pleased. "Oh I bet you do, baby. Already so cockdrunk for me"

Your pussy felt so good with the way he was dragging his cock in and out, reaching places inside you you didn't knew existed. It was funny to you - you were supposed to fake moan and falsely contort your face in pleasure - but you didn't have to do any of that. If anything, you needed to shut up. You were moaning so loud and so prettily for Logan, it was almost excessive. You just couldn't help yourself. Every time you tried to shut your mouth, Logan would notice and pound into your sweet spot. He couldn't have you denying him of your cute sounds.

Not long and the scene ended with you squirting all over his cock and the sheets. That wasn't initially meant to happen, but with the way Logan was fucking you, you lost control as your orgasm hit. Logan tried to mask his surprise by going off script, continuing to circle your clit "Yes, such a good girl. Keep making a mess for me, baby" he groaned into your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, the overstimulation too much as you felt him cumming over your pussy. He hadn't expected you squirting, but it served perfectly to make him cum like he hadn't in a while.

Richie yelled cut again and Logan let go of your hips, making you fall flat onto the drenched sheets, completely boneless. You could hear faint applause and a warm hand on your back. As Richie approached the bed, Logan was quick to bring you his fluffy robe and wrapped it around you aftwr helping your shaken form to sit up, shielding you from prying eyes. The crew was highly professional for the most part, but there were some creeps shamelessly goggling at the actresses, especially newcomers. Sometimes Richie was one of them...

So Logan had a protective hand around your back, sprawled over your waist to keep you pressed into his side while you regained your composure. You were tired and worn out, but in a very very good way. Your core buzzed with warmth and so did the rest of your body. Without realising, you leaned your head onto Logans shoulders, softly closing your eyes for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Jesus Christ, you two were really going at it, huh?" Richie grinned and clapped his hands together. "I am deeply impressed with you, rookie. The camera loved you. Didn't even have to correct you at all. Can't believe you haven't done this before" the middle aged man chuckled and tried to discreetly pear down your cleavage to which Logan covered your upper body a bit more, staring Richie down. You didn't feel all too safe now, especially in your slight dazed state. But Logan was there and somehow being able to nuzzle into him for protection eased your mind greatly. "You two can go and take a break. I have Mirinda, Mandy and Josh for the next sesh. But after that, I'd like to see you both in action again. Maybe with another woman as well, how would you like that?"

Logan declined for you with a slight bite to his voice, excusing you and himself after he had wrapped a towel around his hips and brought you to his dressing room. Richie wasn't a bad man. But he was far from being appropriate at times. It happened rarely and mostly only to actresses who had been in this industry for years, but they knew how to treat directors like him for rude staring not to happen. But you were still so young and inexperienced with everything, so anxious and nervous. Logan wanted to protect that. Protect you. The industry was tough and he didn't want you to break under all of this like he did in the beginning himself.

"Thank you for uhm...getting me out of there" you mumbled as you began to dress yourself again with the clothes you had arrived in. You chuckled to yourself as Logan turned around when you put on your bra and underwear as if he hadn't just conpletely seen you bare and ruined you for every other man.

He scoffed. "Not for that. It was the least I could do. Sometimes he gets a bit creepy, but he his decent. He doesn't do more than stare, fortunately. Still, I'm sorry you had to endure that on your first day. But that's, sadly, how it is" he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and you shamelessly watched his muscles dip and contract from his movements.

You buttoned up your blouse and shrugged. "I expected it, honestly. But you were my knight in shining armor, or lack there of-" you laughed and Logan couldn't help but chuckle alongside you. "- so it wasn’t that bad. At least the sex was good"

Logan smirked. "It was?" he asked with a cocky undertone. He knew that it was, but hearing it from you directly made his chest flutter. Not that he would ever admit that. You nodded with a hum, slightly chewing on your bottom lip.

"I have to say the same. You have a great pussy" he blurts out, making both of you laugh. "There is more where that came from, lover boy" it was very easy to be comfortable around Logan and it made you feel a little less lost. It made you feel like you had a guiding hand and you were so grateful that he was there. It wasn’t his job to be your caretaker, he wasn't getting paid to tell you how to do things or protect you from backhanded nasty comments from filming crew members. But you were glad he instantly took you under his wing like this.

You couldn't wait to shoot with him again

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I had so much fun writing this! Let me hear your thoughts, do you want a part two?

And don't be scared, there is also going to be more sub!Logan soon and a few fluff drabbles as well. Stay tuned!

[theneighborhoodsave]

V1: Willow Creek + Magnolia Promenade 🏠

The Neighborhood is a CC-free save file that explores the concept of home. V1 celebrates the vibrant communities of the U.S. Gulf Coast. ❤️

This is what comes in V1:

13 community lots

22 total residences (includes 3 multi-family rental lots, 9 single family homes)

New High School & Auditorium in Copperdale (+8 school staff townies)

Secret lot (Sylvan Glade) reimagined

17 unique households with skills, jobs, relationships, and stories that tie into the town

New clubs and holidays

Download, screenshots & more info below ↪

The wonderful Ly family in Willow Creek was lovingly created for the save by @cowplant-snacks. All other neighbors were made by me, you can meet all of them here! Pets are from Pugowned, misc. townies from @cowplant-snacks and @simsontherope on the gallery.

There's lots of little details and things to explore, both around the world and relationship wise, so I'm excited to see what y'all uncover. Please feel free to @theneighborhoodsave in your posts or tag #theneighborhoodsave. I'd love to see what your sims are up to!

I also want to say thank you to anyone who's appreciated this creative journey with me. This save feels like home to me and y'all have supported me every step of the way!

Download the The Neighborhood save on SFS

Alt: Google Drive

The save is 100% CC free! Please note that I do have all expansions, packs, and kits (except for Castle Estate, Goth Galore + Crystal Creations.) For any items you don't own the game will try to auto find replacements for those items. The file is mostly blank this time around but does include the original EA builds in university and vacation type worlds (sans Granite Falls.)

Included is a folder of completely optional skin details/eyelashes for the neighbor sims. Thank you to @faaeish, @pyxiidis, @tamo-sim, and @landgraabbed! There are 4 pieces of CC I cannot include in the folder due to creator TOU. Please check the included "Read Me" file for more information.

All builds and families are up on the gallery (@sweetbeagaming) + tray files have been shared here.

If you've never used a save file and need help installing it, I highly recommend this tutorial by @leeleebsimming.

⚠️ A couple of disclaimers here due to some existing EA bugs. EDIT 4/25: Included in that link are directions on how to avoid TOOL'd items from disappearing. If you want to keep powerlines and such please check this out! ⚠️

Everything was tested to work around these, but I wanted to put them out there as an FYI.

TOU: Please don't reupload my save/builds/sims, claim as your own, and absolutely do not paywall them. Other than that feel free to build your own Neighborhood stories however you'd like!

[aajjks]

The Boy (I)

synopsis. All he ever wanted was someone to love.

pairing: yandere!brahms doll jungkook x fem!nanny reader. ft. Cha eunwoo.

genre: 18+ horror, smut, angst and yandere.

warnings. 18+ YÁNDÈRÈ, dàrk thèmès, dïstúrbíng thèmès, mèntïóns ôf à míscárrïàgè, yn ïs brókè & hórny, dóll, erríe thèmès, únsèttlíng thèmès.

wc: almost 3000.

fic note. Please keep in mind that this fanfiction is the exact copy of the movie from the same name “the boy” (2016) so if you find any similarities, that’s on purpose. Also viewer discretion is highly advised.

note. OH MY GOD, HE’S HERE.. this is everything and I have worked really hard on this so don’t let this flop and I’m really nervous… BUT if you want to be tagged, please reply under this post only. PLEASE ENJOY AND SHARE YOUR FEEDBACK. OH MY GOD OK??? 

•••

You’re scrolling through job listings on your phone, your eyes glazing over the endless options. 

Babysitting, waitressing, house cleaning..

none of it seems even remotely appealing, and none of it pays nearly enough to escape your mess of a life.

Why the fuck does your life have to suck so much?

As you keep looking, you almost roll your eyes at the ridiculous job offers, but then, your eyes flicker when you see this one.

This is the most weirdest thing you’ve ever seen on the Internet so far.

But you find yourself intrigued so you click on it. 

Live-in nanny position. High pay. In Busan.

You blink, not quite believing it. Busan? That’s hours away from Seoul. 

You could use the distance. You could definitely use the money.

But a nanny job? You squint at the screen, a laugh escaping your lips. A nanny? To take care of some kid in a big house somewhere far from your current mess? 

It sounds too good to be true. 

And it sounds hilarious.

You tap on the message from Alina. 

Allie:

I found something for you. Live-in nanny job. High pay. Busan.

This is weird because you’re looking at the same mall for it’s like the universe wants you to have this one.

You laugh out loud. 

you:

Are they serious? Who needs a nanny for a kid that badly?

Alina texts back almost immediately. 

Allie:

Trust me, Yn. It pays enough to start fresh. You need this. And yeah, they’re serious.

You shake your head. A nanny job. You don’t even like kids. But the thought of getting away from everything..

the mess of your relationship, the toxic memories of Min Jae, the grief from losing your child—

it’s tempting. Hell, you need it.

you text back before you can second-guess yourself.

You:

Fine, I’m in.

The money is too good to turn down. You don’t have a real family to keep you tied down. Alina’s your best friend, but she’s too busy with her own life.

And the salary? You look it over again.

5 million Korean won per month. 

Five million. For what? Looking after a kid? The job sounds too good to be true. And you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it all is.

You really hope this isn’t some scam. But the thought of the money, of freedom… it makes you push past the doubt.

You need to take this.

•••

You honestly don’t know what you’re doing but the next day you find yourself driving.

You might regret this, but what’s the point in looking back now you’ve been through a lot of shit anyways?

You drive down to Busan, with your luggage and it feels like an eternity. But you’re not complaining. 

The farther you get, the more you feel like you’re shedding the weight of your past life. like you’re heading toward something that doesn’t have Min Jae’s name written all over it.

When the massive house finally comes into view, you stop dead. 

You’ve heard of the Jeon family, everyone in Seoul has, but you didn’t expect a mansion that large. 

The house looks like something straight out of a gothic horror movie. 

Cold, imposing, almost too perfect.

You ring the doorbell, echoing through the hallway like it belongs to another century. It takes a few seconds for someone to answer, and when the door finally opens, you’re greeted by a woman in her early fifties.

“You must be Yn,” she says in a voice that’s a little too calm for your liking. “I’m Jeon Ji-seon.”

“Umm yeah, HI! I’m… yn. Kang Yn..”

You smile, trying to keep your composure.

“I’ll show you inside,” she continues, stepping aside. “Please, come in.”

You walk through the door, and as soon as you step into the house, the silence hits you. 

The place is huge, far too big for just a couple of people. And it’s cold, like the air here has been frozen for years.

Ji-seon leads you down a hall that feels way too quiet. You don’t even know why, but your skin prickles as you walk behind her.

“Come, this is the boy,” she says, opening a door to a sitting room.

You glance around, expecting to see some child, maybe a little too spoiled, maybe a bit over the top. 

but what you find is… not that.

It’s a doll. A life-sized doll sitting on the couch, its eyes too wide and too real. It’s sitting there like a person, and you can’t help the chuckle that slips from your mouth.

“This is JK,” Ji-seon says, her voice soft, almost motherly. 

“The boy you’ll be looking after.”

You blink, unsure whether you’ve heard her right.

“Wait, this is… this is the kid?” You can’t help yourself. The laughter bubbles up again, louder this time. “A fucking doll? You want me to look after this?”

This is not even a kid, but this is a doll..

Ji-seon’s smile doesn’t falter, but you can see a flicker of something in her eyes.

“Yes, JK needs care. He’s like a child, in many ways.”

You laugh again. 

The idea of it is absurd. Who would hire a nanny for a doll? And who would pay five million won a month to do it?

You can’t resist a glance back at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” Ji-seon says, her voice unflappable. “He requires attention. He’s very… sensitive.”

A sharp chill runs through you, but it only lasts a second before you shake it off.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you mutter under your breath. “Okay, I’ll take care of the… kid. Whatever.”

Ji-seon doesn’t seem bothered by your sarcasm. She just nods, smiling softly.

“You’ll be well compensated, yn” she adds. “And Eunwoo will be overseeing everything. He’ll make sure you’re doing it right.”

You don’t like the way she says your name like she’s already familiar with you.

“Eunwoo?”

“His name is Eunwoo. He checks on JK. He’ll be checking on you as well,” she explains, her gaze a little too intense.

You try to stifle a yawn. This whole thing is weird. And for the amount of money they’re offering, 

it’s almost too weird.

And then, as if on cue, a man enters the room. He’s tall, dressed in a sleek black suit, his eyes cold and assessing.

“I’m Eunwoo,” he says in a deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink. For a second, you think you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you push the thought away.

“I’ll be overseeing things here,” he continues, not bothering with pleasantries. “Make sure you’re following the rules.”

You squint at him. “Rules for taking care of a doll?”

Eunwoo’s smile is sharp, almost predatory. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

You’re about to ask more questions when Ji-seon interrupts.

“Remember the doll can actually speak a few words so don’t be freaked out about that, JK is capable of crying and sometimes even complimenting.”

What the fuck?

“Eunwoo will show you around. He’ll tell you what’s expected of you.”

You glance at Eunwoo, who watches you closely, as if evaluating every inch of you.

“I’ll be back later,” he says, before turning and walking toward JK, adjusting the doll in a way that makes you shiver.

You feel like you’ve stepped into some strange, twisted world. But you try not to let it show. 

You need this job.

After all, you’ve got five million won to make.

The house feels too quiet as you stand there, trying to process everything. 

You walk around, pretending to look busy while your eyes are fixated on the doll, JK, sitting perfectly still on the couch. 

You can’t help but feel like you’re under some kind of microscope.

How could anyone need a nanny for a doll? 

you think, your thoughts dripping with sarcasm. But then you remind yourself that you’re here for the money.

Five million won. 

That’s what you keep telling yourself to push down the absurdity of the situation.

Eunwoo’s movements seem calculated as he adjusts JK’s position on the couch. 

You don’t know why, but his actions feel almost… gentle, like he’s handling something fragile. 

It’s unsettling. 

You swallow, trying to mask the unease creeping into your stomach.

“Right,” you say, trying to force a grin as you break the silence. “So, what exactly am I supposed to do with… him? Do I play with him, or is he more of a… I don’t know, a silent companion?” Your tone is light, as if you’re joking, but it feels strangely hollow.

But he doesn’t seem to find your joke funny.

What a weirdo but at least he’s got a pretty face.

Although he looks very familiar… you just can’t put your finger on why you have probably seen him somewhere but you’re not sure at this point.

Eunwoo doesn’t respond at first, his gaze locked on the doll, then finally, he mutters, “You’ll interact with him when it’s required. He has specific needs. You’ll figure it out.” 

His voice is colder than you expected, but it’s a different kind of cold— more like a warning than a suggestion.

You shift uncomfortably, looking over at JK.

. The doll’s porcelain eyes are wide open, locked onto you in an unnerving way, and you fight the urge to laugh at how absurd the whole situation is. 

How could anyone possibly think this thing is alive?

“Got it,” you say, forcing a smile, trying to make light of the situation. “I’ll treat him like a… like a kid, right?”

Eunwoo’s eyes snap to yours, a brief flicker of something unspoken passing between you two. 

“You’ll take care of him,” 

he says, and you can feel the weight of his words sink in, much heavier than you expected. 

His gaze lingers on you for a beat too long before he nods, as if ensuring you understand.

Ji-seon reappears, smiling pleasantly, and her presence brings a sense of eerie calm to the air.

 “You’ll be fine here, yn. Eunwoo will help you get settled. We just need you to follow the routine.”

You nod, trying to sound agreeable. “Of course. No problem.”

She leads you down a hallway, her heels clicking on the polished floor as she motions toward a door. 

“This will be your room while you’re here. Make yourself at home.”

You step inside, and your breath catches. It’s bigger than any space you’ve ever lived in before. bigger than your tiny apartment in Seoul, bigger than anything you’ve ever imagined. 

The room is sleek, minimalist, and pristine, with soft, neutral colors that almost feel too perfect. 

Rich people are ridiculous but at least you get to live in a really nice room and a literal man just to take care of a fucking doll.  life is being nice to you at least.

At the far end of the room, there’s a large window with a view of the sprawling estate grounds, but it’s not the view that catches your eye.

It’s the family photos.

They’re everywhere— on the walls, on tables, in frames. 

At first, it seems normal, just a rich, respectful family showing off their prized memories. 

But then you start noticing things. In one picture, there’s a child, a little boy who could be no more than five or six. His features are strikingly similar to JK’s. 

sharp Bambi eyes, a mole under his lower lip, and a smile that mirrors JKS. 

It’s unsettling, the way the child looks so much like the doll, so much like… him.

In one photo, the child is sitting on a chair beside a younger version of the doll, his tiny hand placed possessively on the doll’s shoulder. 

The similarities between them are too eerie to ignore.

You feel a slight shiver creep up your spine. What the hell is going on here?

you want to ask about this but you decide to let it go.

“How strange,” you murmur under your breath, though you’re not sure if you’re speaking to the doll or to yourself. 

You force yourself to look away from the photos, but it feels like they’re following you.

You walk over to the desk, where another photo sits—this one of the couple holding hands with the child, all three of them beaming at the camera. 

And again, the resemblance between the child and JK is too uncanny. It’s like they’re trying to prove something, some perfect image of family that feels staged, artificial.

A sudden knock on the door interrupts your thoughts, and before you can answer, 

Eunwoo enters. 

He doesn’t wait for permission, just steps inside, his eyes immediately scanning the room before they rest on you. 

“Get settled. We’ll talk later,” he says, his tone clipped and direct.

You give him a forced smile, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Of course. Thanks, Eunwoo.”

“But where are Mr. and Mrs. Jeon?”

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than comfortable. 

There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his expression, but then he turns and walks out without another word.

“Didn’t you read in the advertisement? They have to go on a business trip to the states and they need you to take care of…. JK.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

The air in the room feels dense, thick with unspoken things. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched, monitored, like a subject in some twisted experiment.

You move to the bed, setting your bag down, and glance back at the photos. 

The resemblance between the doll and the child is enough to make your stomach turn. 

You try to push the thought out of your mind, but it sticks with you. What kind of family is this?

You pull out the piece of paper Eunwoo gave you earlier.

The list of instructions. It’s simple, even ridiculous at times. But the last line sticks out to you, making your heart skip a beat:

1. Do not leave him alone for extended periods.

• JK requires constant companionship. Never leave him for more than an hour at a time. If he is left alone for too long, you may hear him calling out for attention, sometimes saying things like “stay” or “hello.”

2. Talk to him regularly.

• Speak to JK as if he were a real child. He understands more than you think and benefits from daily conversation. You may hear him respond in his own way, even if it’s just a faint whisper of words like “pretty” or “hello” that seem to come from nowhere.

3. Do not ignore him.

• If JK’s eyes are on you, he is expecting attention. Never leave him in a room alone without acknowledging him. If you do, you might hear him softly say “stay” or something equally unsettling when you’re out of sight.

4. Maintain his appearance.

• Clean JK daily, especially his clothes. Ensure his hair is brushed and neat, and that he is positioned properly. If you don’t care for him properly, you may hear him complain.

5. Do not place him out of sight.

• Always keep JK within your line of sight. If you leave the room, take him with you, or he will become distressed. If left alone for too long, you may hear him calling out, perhaps asking for you in a low, soft voice.

6. Respect his space.

• Do not move JK without carefully considering his position. He prefers to be seated in his chair or on the couch—never leave him lying down for long. You may notice him suddenly changing positions on his own if you don’t follow these guidelines.

7. Follow the daily routine.

• A structured schedule is important for JK’s well-being. The routine is as follows:

• Morning: Greet JK. Talk to him about your day.

• Afternoon: Engage in activities with him (reading, conversation, or watching TV together). He might ask you things like “pretty” or “play” when he wants to interact.

• Evening: Ensure he is settled before you sleep. You may hear him say “stay” if you don’t give him a kiss goodnight.

8. Do not let him become distressed.

• If JK begins to look upset or agitated, stop what you’re doing immediately and comfort him. You’ll know he’s upset if his eyes seem unfocused or if he “stares off” for too long. At these times, you may hear him say things like “hello,” reaching out for attention.

9. No visitors unless approved by us.

• Do not invite anyone into the house unless we have specifically authorized them. This includes friends, family, or strangers. JK may also react to unapproved visitors by whispering, “go away,” or “stay,” in a chilling voice that’s hard to ignore.

10. Follow all of JK’s instructions as they are given.

• While he cannot speak in the traditional sense, his needs will make themselves known. You must be attuned to his behavior and respond accordingly. This includes listening for his soft, eerie phrases like “stay” or “pretty” when you least expect it.

11. Always keep his room organized.

• JK’s environment must remain tidy. His room should be cleaned and arranged according to how you find it each day. If you don’t, expect to hear him muttering things like “stay,” as if reminding you of your duties.

12. Never speak ill of him or treat him disrespectfully.

• JK is a special member of the family. Disrespect or neglect will not be tolerated. You may hear him call out to you in a hurt tone, saying “why” or “pretty,” if he feels abandoned.

13. If you feel discomfort or fear, contact Eunwoo immediately.

• Eunwoo is to be your point of contact should you feel overwhelmed or need assistance. He is also here to make sure everything is running smoothly. He may even contact you if he notices JK has been more vocal than usual, or if things seem off.

14. In case of an emergency, stay calm and follow the procedure.

• If anything unusual happens, contact us immediately. Keep calm and ensure JK is safe. During these moments, JK might cry out, or ask you “why” or “stay” in a soft voice, leaving you with an eerie feeling of being watched.

15. Do not attempt to move or alter JK’s appearance without prior approval.

• His positioning, attire, and overall state must remain as it is unless told otherwise. This is crucial for his well-being. If you disobey, JK might say things like “don’t” or “stop” under his breath, which you’ll hear clearly when the house is quiet.

16. If you need to leave the house, make sure JK is placed safely in a position to rest.

• Ensure he is seated comfortably before leaving. If you are gone for more than an hour, contact Eunwoo to check on him. You might also hear him call out faintly, “stay,” as if trying to hold you back.

17. Keep your emotions in check around him.

• JK can sense emotional changes. If you are feeling upset or disturbed, try to manage it before interacting with him. He may respond with a quiet “pretty” or “hello,” as if trying to comfort you, or, more chillingly, he might ask you, “stay.”

18. Remember: JK is not a doll.

• Treat him as you would any living child. He may not look alive, but his needs are very real. If you treat him like an inanimate object, you may hear him cry softly, pleading for attention, and saying “stay.”

19. Always give him a goodnight kiss.

• Before you sleep, you must give JK a kiss on the forehead. It’s a requirement for his comfort and peace of mind. If you forget, he will become unsettled, and you might hear him whisper, “stay” or “please” in a voice that feels too real for comf

You look over at JK. The doll’s unblinking eyes stare back at you, and for a moment, you almost think it’s smiling.

The money is still the only thing keeping you here. Five million won. But the unease crawling under your skin refuses to let go.

“Umm well these instructions are quite… haha… ummm… thorough…”

Eunwoo looks at you and he almost looks annoyed by you. 

“Obviously. People like you need thorough instructions. You have to make sure that you follow each and every one of them or we will deduct your salary.”

What a little bitch he is.

“Yn you can go to your room now I can take care of him right now and keep the set of instructions with you and read them over again and again until you can remember them. Good night. The dinner will be on the dining table so eat whenever you want.”

•••

The next morning when you wake up, you realize that you didn’t really get much sleep last night because your head is pulsing, but you barely have time to breathe when you hear the older woman call out your name and there is a knock on your door.

When you finally compose yourself and dress up, you rush downstairs and you see the couple with the brooding, butler guy.

“Ummm good morning.”

Ji-seon and Jeong-hwan sit you down in the grand living room, the air thick with a seriousness that immediately puts you on edge. 

You’re seated across from them, the doll, JK, still in his usual spot on the couch, eerily quiet as always. 

The room feels colder now, as if the warmth has been sucked out of the house overnight.

“We have to leave for an extended period,” Ji-seon says, her voice smooth but with an undertone of finality. 

She’s holding her hands in front of her, fingers laced together, her perfectly manicured nails catching the light. 

She’s dressed as if she’s about to attend a gala, the elegance radiating off her like a fine perfume.

Jeong-hwan nods beside her, his expression unreadable, his posture stiff. 

“We’ll be in Europe for business,” he says, his voice calm but firm, 

“and we won’t be back for a few months. Maybe longer, depending on how things go. But we need you here, yn. You’re crucial to this arrangement.”

You blink, not sure what to make of the sudden reveal. You were told they were going away for a short time, but this? This feels different. 

You glance at Eunwoo, who’s standing by the door, arms crossed, looking like he’s barely keeping his composure. 

He’s so serious you almost want to fuck him.

His eyes are intense, unwavering, but there’s something else there too. something you can’t quite put your finger on.

Ji-seon leans forward, her eyes locking onto yours. 

“The job isn’t just to care for the house, or to clean up after us. It’s to take care of JK while we’re gone,” 

she says, her voice unwavering, almost as if she’s testing you. “

“We’re trusting you with a very special task. We have rejected 25 Nannie’s before you but something about you stood out.”

You feel a strange knot tighten in your stomach. “Right. I understand,” you say, 

Though you can’t help but question how anyone could need someone to look after a doll like that.

Eunwoo’s gaze flicks to you briefly, a warning lingering in the way his lips press together. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

Jeong-hwan speaks up again, his tone cold, almost stern. 

“You’re to follow the rules exactly as they’re written, and there will be no exceptions. JK needs consistency. He’s… special,” he adds, his words leaving a strange, unsettling weight in the air.

Why the fuck does everyone keep on saying that it’s almost starting to piss you off and you’ve been here for a day?

You frown, your mind reeling from the bizarre nature of their instructions. 

“Special?” you ask, glancing nervously at JK, who’s still as ever on the couch, eyes wide and staring. 

“What do you mean by that?”

Ji-seon’s expression softens slightly, but there’s a sharpness behind her gaze that makes you hesitate. 

“What we mean,” she begins, her voice careful but insistent.

“is that JK, has particular needs. He requires attention, affection… care. You’ll need to spend time with him, talk to him. Don’t leave him alone for too long. You understand?”

You nod, unsure of what to say. You can feel the tension rising in the room, the weight of their expectations pressing on your chest.

Eunwoo shifts, stepping further into the room as if to emphasize his role.

“And I’ll be visiting, here to make sure everything goes smoothly,” he adds, his voice is smooth, almost too calm. 

“If you ever have any issues or doubts, I’ll be here to help. Just… keep him company. That’s all we ask.”

You bite your lip, your thoughts racing. You never imagined this job would be anything like this. 

The money was appealing, but now, the reality of it is setting in— and it’s starting to feel far too strange, 

too unnerving.

“You’ll be fine,” Ji-seon says, offering you a smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“We’ll be back when we’re done with business, but until then, please make sure JK is well taken care of. He’s very important to us.”

Jeong-hwan stands, his suit sharply pressed, and gives you a small bow of his head. 

“Take care of everything. Follow the rules, and everything will go smoothly.”

You nod, trying to remain composed, even though everything inside of you is screaming for a way out.

 The money. 

That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ll stick it out.

But as you glance over at Eunwoo, his unblinking stare fixated on you, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being drawn into something far deeper and more dangerous than you ever imagined.

The door closes softly behind Ji-seon and Jeong-hwan as they leave, and you’re left standing in the silent house with JK and Eunwoo.

And as soon as the door closes, there is a mechanical sound leaving the doll.

“pretty, pretty, stay… stay.”

And for the first time ever, you got serious shivers down your spine.

“Nice.. JK seems to like you a lot.”

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

•••

I watch you, every move you make, every breath you take. 

Your body, so unaware, so oblivious to the presence of the one who truly owns you.

 You laugh, that soft sound echoing through the room, and I can’t help but let my eyes linger on the curve of your neck, the way your lips part when you exhale.

You’re beautiful. 

But it’s not just your beauty that calls to me. It’s the way you touch the doll. Your fingers graze his face, your movements slow, almost hesitant. 

You don’t even realize it, do you?

You’re already giving him a piece of yourself, even if it’s just a touch. But it’s not for him, is it? 

No, it’s for me.

You think you’re in control, that you’re simply playing a role, but I can see the way your body betrays you. 

The way your hands shake just a little when you adjust him, how your breath hitches when you think no one’s watching. You want him, want me, more than you’re willing to admit.

I can feel the heat radiating from you, the tension in the air thickening with every second you linger in that room. 

You don’t know it yet, but every time you speak to him, every time your skin brushes against his, you’re inviting me in. You want to be touched, you crave it. 

Your body, so starved for affection, desperate for someone to care, to see you.

I see you. And soon, you’ll feel me.

You’re not just taking care of a doll. You’re taking care of me. 

The doll is just a way to keep you close, to watch you, to savor every second of your vulnerability. 

You don’t realize how deep you’re sinking into this. 

Every time you move, every time you shift, it’s like you’re drawing me in closer, pulling me into your world.

Your eyes flicker toward the doll again, and I can almost hear your thoughts, wondering why you’re drawn to him so much. 

You want to feel him. You want to touch him.

But what you don’t know is that the only thing you’ll feel is me. The only thing you’ll touch is me.

I let out a quiet breath, my fingers curling into a fist as I watch you through the shadows. You’re perfect for this. You’re perfect for me

And the longer you stay here, the closer you’ll get to me, to the things I want from you.

You’ll beg for it soon enough.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”