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pearlessance · 2 months ago

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A Dance In The Dark

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel has always taken care of you. Always been your kind, attentive protector. And that doesn’t change, even when you read a scene from a dark romance novel and discover your tastes may be a bit more sordid than you once thought. But even in this he wants to grant you your every wish—and when he offers to put on a mask and chase you through the woods, the opportunity is just too wicked to pass up.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, feelings of embarrassment and shame, established relationship, Joel ties readers hands with his belt, knife play, BDSM undertones (primal play specifically), sexual aggression, degradation, fingering, p in v, hair pulling, shameless smut this is basically just pure filth

NOTE: this is a cowrite i did with joelmillersgirlfriend! we busted this out in less than two days because i was bound and determined to get this published on the best holiday of the year! please check out her stuff over on AO3 where we have several other cowrites because i love her 🩷

happy halloween my loves 🩷

Read on AO3!

MASTERLIST

You don’t tell him right away. Don’t tell him at all, really.

Joel discovers your peculiar fascination all on his own.

He’s late coming home from work. His dinner sits on a plate in the microwave, leftovers packaged and put in the fridge for his lunch tomorrow. His lack of punctuality is nothing new, but you’ve always been good at filling the time and finding a distraction while you wait for him.

On this particular night, you’ve changed out of your clothes and into one of his T-shirts, nestled into a soft cocoon on his side of the bed, book in hand. The tea in your mug on your nightstand has gone tepid, too lost between the pages to consume anything but the content in a timely manner.

You’d found it in the horror section, a book written by a name you’d never heard of, a story of a young woman’s abduction with overarching themes of perseverance and self-discovery. You find it a bit graphic from time to time, the details of her torment vivid and lifelike. But that’s to be expected in a horror novel and doesn’t surprise you.

The part that does surprise you, however, is the romantic undercurrent between the woman and her captor. He makes declarations of love, fully admitting his obsession with the young woman, claiming to want nothing from her but her own empowerment.

It’s an even bigger surprise when you reach the halfway point and discover that your horror novel is also an erotica. And the text is well-written, pulling you into its depths, and you think it might be the craziest yet best book you’ve ever read if for nothing else than the way it makes your heart race behind your ribcage.

“Is it that good?”

His voice startles you so badly the book falls from your hands and into your lap. “What?”

Joel laughs, a soft sound of amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, toeing off his shoes. He leans over the edge of the bed to press his lips to your forehead, and you find yourself swimming in the subtle affection.

And you know it’s because you’ve been reading smut for the last three hours straight, but the feel of his lips against your skin is heavenly. You abandon the book, tucking the edge of the dust jacket inside the pages to mark your place and discarding it onto the nightstand. It’s second nature as you twist your hands into the soft fabric of his flannel and pull him close.

He smells like pine and sawdust and sweat. His hands are rough and calloused as he cradles your face, lips turning upwards against yours. When you deepen the kiss, sliding your soft tongue against his, Joel laughs again, a little darker this time. He pulls away and the loss makes you whimper because you need him. And the bastard knows it. Because when his gaze roams over your face, lingering on your lips, there’s a heavy undertone of lust behind the playfulness. “S’alright, sweet girl,” he says gently. “None of that whinin’. M’gonna take care of you like I always do. Just wanna know what’s brought this on is all.”

You’re not sure you can admit the truth to him. And even more than that, you don’t have the words to explain that what’s got you so worked up is a scene in your book where the main character is being chased through the woods, her captor wearing a Halloween mask, under the pretense that if he catches her, he’s going to fuck her. Your cheeks warm at just the idea of such an admission, so instead you say, “I just missed you is all.”

Joel doesn’t believe it for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand and sees easily through the lie. And when he glances at your book on the nightstand twice, you know you’ve been caught before he even says a word. “Thought that was one of those scary books you like.”

“It is,” you tell him. Because, technically, it’s the truth.

He narrows his eyes at you, that all-knowing smirk still plastered on his face. “Yeah? Bein’ scared’s what’s got you all squirmy like this?”

As much as you’d like to deny it, to argue his assessment, Joel leans over a little further and his weight on top of you, heavy and sure and safe, makes your breath catch in your lungs. Warmth pools low in your belly and that low, husky tone in his voice only makes matters worse.

“Think whatever’s in that book’s got you all worked up. What’s it about, baby? Hm?” Joel shoves the blanket out of the way and slides his hand between your body and his. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of his hands on you, the contrast of his roughness against all your softest parts. It’s like the first time every time, and you can feel the steady thump of your heart as it hammers behind your sternum.

Heat rises up your chest when his hand touches your favorite spot, already knowing what he’s going to say. You’re drenched, the insides of your thighs slick with excitement. Joel breathes out a tell-tale hiss at the feeling, pulling back to glance down at you. Humor is suddenly nowhere to be found on his face, no smirks or teasing words. Just dark, hot lust, turning Joel’s eyes black.

“Christ,” Joel groans, continuing to explore between your legs.

You don’t want to tell him what the book’s about, and thankfully he seems to forget he’d asked the question as his long fingers find their place, curling inside of you.

Joel keeps his promise. He takes care of the ache for you like he always does. He makes you finish on his fingers and his tongue and when he finally sinks deep inside you it feels like relief. You warm up leftovers for him afterward, and he doesn’t pressure you about talking about your book. Instead, he tells you about his day while the two of you sit at the kitchen table and the light of his love fills you from the inside out.

You finish the book in less than two days, but its content lives in your head for far longer.

Showering, cooking, running errands - you find yourself thinking about that scene in the woods so often you begin to wonder if it’s altered your brain chemistry.

That weekend you go out for drinks with a couple of girlfriends, letting Joel know you’ll likely be late coming home. He makes you promise to call him if you need a ride and says he’s going to invite Tommy over to watch the game.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Joel’s little brother practically lived with the two of you until Maria stepped into the picture, and you pinky swear to call if you need him.

You don’t, though. You spend more time gossiping and laughing and catching up than you do drinking. But it’s dark when you pull into the driveway, and though you don’t see Tommy’s truck you assume Joel might have picked him up and you fully expect to see him standing in your kitchen with a hand in the fridge grabbing another beer.

Tommy’s nowhere to be found, though. And there’s no referee calling shots on the flat screen. There’s no sound at all, in fact. At first, it alarms you. But then you see Joel sprawled out on the couch in sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt with a book in his hand.

He glances up from the pages only long enough to smile up at you and say, “Hey, sweetheart. Have a good time?”

You hesitate, watching him from where you stand at the doorway. Joel read occasionally, but only if he needed to. If he wanted to learn a new song on guitar, if he had taken on a new car project and had to teach himself how to repair it. He didn’t read for luxury.

“Yeah, it was nice. What about you? Where’s Tommy?” you questioned, tiptoeing over to where Joel was spread out. The book was positioned in a way that didn’t allow you to see its cover, but it most definitely wasn’t one of Joel’s manuals.

Joel turned to grin at you, his eyes scanning your body, stopping to look at the frown on your lips.

“He canceled, ditched me to hang out with Maria,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. Your frown deepened as you moved closer to Joel, still eyeing the book in his hand that was conveniently covered by his large palms.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, reaching down to run your palm through his gray-streaked hair. You had convinced him to stop touching up his roots, some sick part of you loving how mature he looked.

“I didn’t wanna interrupt. ‘Sides, I wanted to see what got you all worked up the other night,” Joel explained casually, finally exposing the book he was holding. All of the colors left your face as you processed what was happening, that he was more than halfway done with the story. Joel was well into reading the disturbing erotica, but somehow still hadn’t put it down.

“This is some dark stuff. You’re telling me that this is what had you drippin’? Had you clenched around me, legs shaking?” Joel asked, breaking heavy eye contact with you to go back to reading.

“Come on, Joel. Give it back,” you whined, reaching down to pull it out of his hands. The word embarrassed didn’t cover how you truly felt. Mortified was a better fit.

He wrestled around in your hold, turning his back to you and shielding the book with his body. “Not yet, I’m just about to reach the good part. I wanna know what happens when he catches her.”

Maybe not mortified. You were fucking humiliated. Tears threatened to spill as you reached down, pawing at Joel’s arms to grab the book. “Stop it. It’s just a stupid fantasy, I know it’s dumb.”

Joel glanced back to see the wetness filling your eyes, instantly releasing his grip so you could take the book back. His large palm reached up to cradle your face, to comfort you.

“Hey now, I never said it was dumb. I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I never really knew you were into that kind of stuff. Nothing’s wrong with it.”

His words are sincere and make you feel a little bit better, but you still feel ashamed that Joel had read the book. You know he’d never judge you, but it feels like your closest kept secret has been thrust into the light without your permission. Warmth spreads over your face, down your neck, twisting your stomach into knots. “I know but I…I just didn’t expect you to read it.”

“Then I won’t,” he says quickly, pushing himself up off the couch. He places a warm hand on the side of your neck and says again, “I won’t. I promise. No tears baby, alright?”

You nod and sniffle, trusting him, knowing that his words hold sincerity. Exhaling a long breath, you try to shove the mortification away and focus instead on this man before you who loves you enough to learn everything about you, even the things best kept hidden.

Joel gives you the book and you shove it in the back of your side of the closet, hidden beneath a shoe box. He helps you out of your dress and showers with you, washing your hair while you tell him all about girls’ night and the newest gossip.

After, when you’re both cozy in bed, wrapped up tight in his strong arms, stealing his warmth with your cold feet against his legs, you think maybe you might’ve overreacted about the book. You know Joel would never judge you, not even about this. You think maybe the embarrassment comes from somewhere within, that maybe it’s more like insecurity than shame. And so you say, “I’m sorry about earlier. You can finish the story if you want.”

Joel presses a kiss into your hair. “Not really my type of book, anyhow.”

Even though he says it mostly to comfort you, the words make you laugh. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and can feel the vibration of his amusement as he shares the moment with you.

And when you both settle enough to speak again, his voice is a little quieter as he asks, “You want me to do that to you?”

This time you fight your shame. Wrap it up tight and store it away for something else, something more worthy than a peculiar taste. You think about yourself in place of the main character, running between thick tree trunks with dead leaves crunching beneath your feet.

You think of Joel in place of the woman’s captor, mask over his face, presence dark and looming as he seeks you out. A shiver runs down your spine, so sharp and demanding that your body trembles in his hold.

“S’okay if you do,” he murmurs. You can feel each word through his chest, a delicious tremor against your suddenly too-hot skin. Joel lifts his hand and brushes your hair gently away from your face, thumb tracing the outline of your lips. “Know it did somethin’ to you. Turned you real greedy the other day. Hm?”

Arousal pools low in your belly, and you can hear your heart in your ears. You think he could convince you to do anything when he talks like that, voice low and gravelly. “Maybe,” you say. “I don’t know.”

“Read another part,” he whispers. His thumb travels slowly down your chin, over the curve of your jaw, down the column of your throat. “He’s got that switchblade in his hand. Touches her real nice, all sweet and loving. But he keeps that blade right…” Joel drags his index finger slowly across your neck. “ Here .”

The sound that escapes you is more than need, it’s something else entirely; more like desperation. You didn’t think it was possible to want him any more than you already do but this Joel who strikes just the right amount of fear in you? He makes your mouth water, makes you tremble and shake with just the caress of a single touch.

He grips the back of your thigh with his free hand, pulling you close, pressing you tight against the growing erection behind the cotton fabric of his boxers. Joel’s always been insatiable for you, sometimes getting worked up just from staring at you too long. But you begin to wonder if this is something he wants, too. “Should take you out someplace real nice,” he mutters. “Get all dressed up. You can wear that pretty pink sundress I like. Take you out to a nice dinner, treat you so fuckin’ good…an’ when the sun sets, I’d drive you someplace real dark. Let you loose.”

Even though he’s barely touching you, thumb stroking the skin of your hip gently, your clit pulses between your legs, hips shifting against him of their own accord. Your breath comes fast and labored and you think you’ve never been this fucking wet before—never wanted him so bad . It feels like you can’t think, can’t breathe without it, without Joel .

“Give you a head start,” he continues. “Long enough for me to put a mask on. Wouldn’t even let you see it ‘til I catch you…An’ I will catch you, sweet girl…but you’d have no way of knowin’ who it was. Could be me. Could be anyone.”

The idea is filthy and disgusting but your body doesn’t seem to mind. Your spine arches, breasts pressing up against his chest. Joel lays there stone still, holding you, letting you rut against him like a woman starved. “ Please ,” is all you manage to choke out. He hardly acknowledges the word, but you can feel the smirk form on his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I’d fuck the good girl right out of you,” he says. “Fuck you ‘til you’re nothin’ but a dumb little slut.”

“Jesus— Joel .” He's degraded you before, but it’s never been like this, never felt like this. You reach between your bodies and palm his cock in your hand, and a dark laugh leaves him as he helps you.

In a few quick movements, he pulls himself out of his boxers, shoves your panties to the side, and sinks his cock inside of you, filling you so full it hurts . But you don’t care, because there’s nothing more you need than this, and thankfully he understands. Like he always does .

Joel fucks you right then and there, whispering filthy things all the while, and you think he’s always understood you. Maybe even more than you’re able to understand yourself. Older and wiser and gracious—always giving you exactly what you need, exactly what you want.

Before you fall asleep that night, he kisses you softly and asks, “Do you want me to tell you before it happens? To warn you?”

You’re not sure how to answer at first. Because the concept as a whole terrifies you; it’s new and foreign and dangerous. And you think you might need the warning to calm yourself enough to enjoy it.

But you trust Joel. More than anyone else in the world, you know he’ll always keep you safe. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you.

And so, you pull the blankets tighter around your shoulders and say, “No. I want it to be a surprise.”

That night, you dream about a man chasing you through darkness whose hands feel more familiar than your own. You think about it for the next week. Daydreaming at work, while you’re making dinner, while you’re driving to run errands. It’s all you can think about, the only thing that fills the gaps of silence in your day-to-day life.

You wait. And wait. And wait .

Joel tells you Friday night that he’ll have to work overtime this weekend to make up for a lost part shipment. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. Saturday morning he encourages you to sleep in, kisses your forehead before he leaves, tells you he loves you. And despite no inclination from him, you have a feeling that today is the day.

When you wake up a little while later, the sun casts shadows through the blinds, and you notice that Joel’s placed that pink sundress on his side of the bed. Laid it out for you.

You shower and groom yourself, mentally preparing for the moment it finally happens. It has to be today. And if Joel is lucky and planned it out right, he’d find out that you opted out of wearing panties underneath the sundress. He’d find you slick, shaved, aching in anticipation.

He notices your nervous excitement when he comes home from work, late and covered in sweat from a long day. You’re practically bouncing on your heels, having spent the entire day filling the time, waiting for his arrival. The sun had already started to set in the distance - you probably only had about an hour left of the day.

Please, God, let it be today .

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. Had an electrician cancel last minute, left me scramblin’ to get the project covered. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” he muttered into your lips as he greeted you. His arms wrapped around you, his body warm and hot against the thin fabric of your dress.

“That’s okay,” you say. “Everything go to plan other than that?”

“Sure did. Finally finished up that warehouse over on Cherry Street. Figured I’d go out and celebrate.”

You find yourself deflating at the words. Because, usually, Joel celebrating the end of a big project means the involvement of Tommy, too. And if Tommy’s there, then tonight is decidedly not the night.

Joel seems to notice the change in your demeanor. He places his hand on the side of your face and drags his thumb down your jutting bottom lip, releasing it with a wet pop . “Wouldn’t be a celebration unless I had a pretty little girl to buy a drink, now would it?”

Either way, even if it’s not tonight, you know you’ll enjoy the time with him like you always do. So you shelve your disappointment and timidly ask, “Will it be…just the two of us? Did you want to invite anyone else?”

He shakes his head, a playful spark glinting in his warm eyes. “Nah. Just wanna take my baby out. Give me a minute to change and we’ll head out. Sound good?”

You know your nod of approval probably looks too hopeful, too excited, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not with this golden excitement fills you to the brim, the anticipation making your hands tingle.

It only takes Joel ten minutes to change out of his work clothes and into a nice pair of jeans and a flannel, but it feels like forever. He asks you about your day while he drives to your favorite restaurant, and listens intently even though you have nothing interesting to say other than the fact that you’ve changed the curtain on the window above the dining room table.

He opens the car door for you and holds your hand as he directs you through the crowd at the restaurant, and orders for you when the waiter comes over. Even though you get the same thing every time, the gesture makes you feel small and safe and cared for.

You drink a glass of wine, and he tries out some sort of hoppy beer. Joel tells you about a song he heard on the radio that he wants to learn on guitar, but while you try to listen all you can think about is what comes after this.

A million thoughts run rampant through your head. He hasn’t said anything about it, hasn’t given you any hints besides laying the sundress out for you, but the rush of it all weighs heavy on your chest. Paired with the lowered inhibitions from the wine and you interrupt him to say, “Joel. Can you just…can you tell me? I changed my mind. I want to know so bad.”

That playfulness returns to his eyes. He tilts his head the smallest bit and leans over the table to hear your whispered words. “Tell you what?”

“You know ,” you insist. “Don’t make me say it here.” Despite the embarrassment that climbs your cheeks as you listen to the chatter around you, you can’t wipe the grin from your face. You try to hide it behind your hand instead.

“Can’t say I know what you’re gettin’ at here, girl,” he says. But that knowing smirk says otherwise. You can see the challenge in his eyes, the push for you to ask the question you’ve been swallowing down all night.

Folding your arms on the edge of the table, you lean in as close as you can and ask so softly, “Are you taking me to the woods tonight?”

He smiles—a big, toothy show of enjoyment, and leans back in the booth. Joel’s big, you’ve always known it…but seeing him now, shoulders broad and rugged, arms straining beneath the cotton sleeves of his flannel… God , he makes you weak. You can feel yourself flush beneath his scrutinization. Can feel the familiar stickiness of your arousal begin to gather between your legs, too. “An’ why would I do that, sweetheart? Ain’t nothin’ out there for a little thing like you.”

The wine is sweet on your tongue as you take the last sip and shrug casually, pretending as if your hands don’t tremble with anticipation. You try to put on a show of confidence. “Never know,” you say. “Could be a big, bad wolf out there that needs hunting down.”

Joel laughs at that, but he’s waving down the next waiter he sees for the check.

When you leave the restaurant, you realize now the sun has fully set and the darkness has descended. The moon hands high in the sky, the only illumination granted apart from the headlight of Joel’s truck. He helps you into the passenger side and buckles you in, hands gentle and caring, always taking care of you.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, he asks a single-word question. One you know is likely equally for his comfort as it is yours. “Okay?”

You are. Despite the fear that begins to rise in your chest, knowing the impending events likely to unfold, despite the shadows and the traversing of the unknown, you know that you’ll always be safe with Joel. “I’m good,” you promise.

He drives for far longer than you expect. Past every stoplight, outside of the city limits, weaving through the backroads until you’re well and truly lost. Every time you pass a wooded area you think he’ll slow to a stop, but he doesn’t. And every moment fuels the adrenaline coursing through you, ratcheting both your panic and excitement to immeasurable heights.

When he does finally stop, pulling off to the side of a road you swear you’ve never been down before, your heart is beating so fast you can hear it in your ears.

He pulls the key from the ignition and the lights cut out, wrapping the both of you in complete darkness. You can make him out just enough, though. Enough to see the predatory look on his face, enough to sense the danger you’ve placed yourself in.

Your mouth goes dry and your brain goes fuzzy as you watch Joel reach into his pants pocket, pulling out a switchblade that glimmers in the moonlight. The small knife makes a snapping noise when it opens, gleaming, taunting you. Excitement buzzed through your body, a nagging voice in the back of your head screaming to run.

“Better get a move on,” Joel whispers, his face shadowed and lips pressed into a grim line. The energy had shifted so quickly that you were uncertain what to do. Even if you did try to run, you doubted that your shaking body would make it very far.

A brooding intensity surrounded Joel, and even though he barely moved to reach back and grab something out of the back seat, the air still felt tense with a silent warning. In his free hand was a gas mask, worn and frayed. The round, glass eye lenses were clouded, displaying its years of disuse. He reached up with one hand to slip the mask down his face, leaving only his eyes revealed.

The white-hot heat that was burning through your veins somehow ignited even further when he finally locked eyes with you. Joel’s eyes were narrowed, carrying a different energy behind them; one that was full of mischief and lust. The moment lasted for a couple of beats…

One, two, three…

And then Joel’s hand snapped out, reaching rapidly to lock around your wrist. Thinking, breathing; none of it mattered. The only thing on your mind was running, some animalistic survival instinct that you didn’t know still existed within you taking over. Your wrist easily slipped out of his grip as you flung open the car door, escaping Joel and running into the dark forest.

There was a chill in the air that made your breath fan out in front of you while you ran, your heavy footsteps practically echoing through the woods. Every couple of moments you would stop and glance around, attempting to see through the endless rows of trees. You didn’t see anything and only heard the sound of your own breathing.

Joel could be scary when he wanted to. Like that one time, a couple weeks into knowing him. Some asshole had followed you around the grocery store late one evening, trailing behind aisle after aisle until your hands were shaking in fear. Joel was one of the only people you had befriended in town since you were new to the area.

He’d showed up five minutes after you’d called him, despite the fact that you knew he lived over ten minutes away. Joel approached the man, and you were grateful that you weren’t the one he was speaking to. Despite not hearing his words from where you were standing, you could see the dark anger on his face, a look that made your blood run cold.

The guy who was following you left immediately after, scurrying off with his tail between his legs. Joel followed you home in his truck even though your apartment was on the other side of town. He’d never been scary to you .

Until now.

Joel’s body came out of nowhere, grabbing you and yanking you against him. The switchblade pressed onto your throat, your heartbeat pounding against the cold metal. You couldn’t see Joel since his vice-grip had your back pushed on his chest.

“You call that running?” he asked, letting his fingers skate down the skin of your thigh, just under the low cut of your sundress. His calloused fingertips caught against your soft skin, raising higher and higher.

“I think you wanted me to catch you. Here you are, lettin’ me rub on you like the little slut I knew you were. I haven’t even properly touched you yet, but you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

Your face warmed at his degrading words. He was right. The excitement of the story wasn’t only the anticipation, but it was the thrill of the hunt. As much as you wanted Joel to touch you, to make your vision blur just from using his fingers, you knew you couldn’t give in so easily.

With all of your strength, you push away both of his hands, ripping out of his grip. He reached down to grab you but you snatched his shirt instead, pulling at it fiercely in an attempt to dodge under him. You heard the fabric rip, but you were too afraid to really acknowledge it.

You took it as an opportunity to escape, dodging Joel’s grasp. You wasted no time in steadying yourself before sprinting away, only sparing a quick glance back to see Joel. His shirt was half ripped, the gas mask blocking any form of expression on his face.

“Damn, baby,” Joel spoke. He stood, shrugging off his flannel before using the switchblade to finish ripping the fabric of his shirt. “If you wanted me to get naked, you should’ve just said so.”

As much as you wanted to watch the way Joel’s chest flexed in the moonlight, you couldn’t handle any distractions. You had to run.

And you did run for what felt like hours. By the time you stopped for a moment, your heartbeat was in your throat and you could feel a slick mess building between your thighs. Your legs were speckled with dirt and pieces of leaves from the way you were kneeling on the ground, searching for Joel.

You didn’t see anything extraordinary through the branches of the forest, but you heard something. A snap.

It was enough to get you back on your feet in an attempt to flee.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him. Though your eyes betrayed you, you could sense his closeness, could sense the space between you lessening with each passing moment. Sweat beads at your hairline and your panting echoes between the trees.

The cracking sound of wood beneath his heavy work boots cuts through the deafening silence, and you turn abruptly and throw yourself in the opposite direction. But Joel’s fast, too fast .

He catches up to you in a second, and you know you won’t get lucky twice, yet still you try. You push your legs as hard as you can, running as fast as you can, trying to navigate the uneven terrain.

Joel’s fingertips grasp your shoulder, and you pull away from him so violently you lose your balance, scraping your knees against the rough forest floor.

You quickly turn onto your back, kicking yourself away from him, trying to see through the thick fog of terror in your mind. His slow breaths sound mechanical through the gas mask’s respirator. He looms over you menacingly, looking every bit the wicked man you know he can be.

His shoulders rise and fall slowly, his breaths even while you struggle to catch yours. He tilts his head, a predator indulging in the chase.

And you know right then that you’ve been caught. Stuck in the spider’s web with no hope of extraction. Your voice shakes when you speak. “Joel?”

There’s no softness in him now. None of that gentle ease he always has with you. He lowers himself to the ground, knees on either side of your hips, and grabs for your hands.

You struggle against his hold, even knowing it’s useless. He wraps a calloused palm around your wrists and squeezes tight, and when you buck your hips up against him, trying to wiggle out from beneath his heavy weight, it serves no purpose but to further diminish the little energy remaining in your weary limbs.

Joel raises your arms above your head, pushing your too-sensitive skin deep into the earth, trapping you in place. You can hear the clicking of his tongue behind the mask. “Stupid little girl,” he says. “Never had a chance. Did you?”

His voice is muffled, deeper. You know it’s Joel. Behind the fear, behind the adrenaline, you know it’s him. But it doesn’t sound like him, not in the way you’re so accustomed to, and it sends a chill down your spine.

He adjusts his position, sliding down your legs just enough to grip the bottom of your dirt-stained sundress and rip it upwards. The air feels like ice against your center, slick with your arousal. You clit pulses with need, despite the way you still fight him, struggling nonsensically in his tight hold. “Look at how fuckin’ wet you are, baby,” he says. “Haven’t even touched you yet an’ that pretty pussy’s just fuckin’ crying for it, ain’t she?”

Your spine bends, arching off the ground. The sounds that leave your mouth are animalistic, a desperate whimpering, a wanton need.

And then suddenly his hand is tangled in your hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding your head up just enough to witness your exposure. “I said look ,” Joel grits out. “Want you to watch just how fuckin’ selfish she is. You listenin’ to me?”

“Yes— yes, ” you choke out. The muscles in your neck strain to keep your head held high enough to see the moment he lets go of your hair. But you heard him loud and clear, and you do just as he says.

His hand slips between your legs, and you fight the urge to let squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers slide over your clit. He circles it roughly and you can feel yourself clench around nothing, your body begging to be filled, begging for Joel . He uses the perfect amount of pressure, deft fingers moving fast, and it takes less than a minute before that familiar warmth begins to trickle in.

But you want more, you always want more, and so you find yourself lifting your hips upwards, trying to shift his hand lower, trying to let him know right where you need him most.

Joel laughs. A sick, maniacal sound that sends a cold flood of terror through you. “See? What’d I say? Fuckin’ greedy ,” he says. You know it’s meant to be an insult, but there’s a strange fondness as he says it. An undertone of worship.

You sigh out his name, unable to form another word, forgetting all else that came before this moment, disregarding all things that may come after. All that matters is this, all that matters is him .

“She wants it so bad,” he murmurs. “An’ I’m gonna give it to her.” His movements are cruel and almost painful as he turns you over, pulling your hips out from under him. Joel shifts your wrists to his other hand and sets them against the small of your back, using his free hand to force your head down. The earthy smell of decaying leaves greets you, and you greedily suck in cold breaths of air, trying to will your heart to slow its racing.

You can’t see his movements but you can feel him shift behind you, and a second later can hear the familiar clink of his belt buckle and the swish as he rips it from the loops of his jeans. The bite of leather is harsh as he winds it around your wrists, tightening it in a familiar, practiced way.

“Joel,” you breathe out. It sounds like a plea in your ears, and maybe it is. Because everything is too much, too intense . You need all of him, you think. Need the wickedness, that dark thing he’s been hiding all this time. But you need your Joel, too. The one who buckles you in, who kisses your forehead before he leaves for work in the morning. The one you know will always keep you safe, even when he defiles you. “ Joel ,” you say again.

His hands freeze on your hips, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin as he leans over and presses his cheek to yours. He waits for you to speak, giving you as long as you need to sort through the heightened emotions.

Your brain feels like mush and you struggle to form a coherent thought that’s more than one or two words strung together. You know you’re terrified. But you know, too, that you don’t want him to stop. And so all you manage to say is a barely audible, “I love you.”

He cradles your head in his hand, thumb stroking gently over your temple. And then he runs his nose over the curve of your jaw, and though he doesn’t say it, doesn’t break the spell he’s so carefully created in order to indulge your wildest fantasies, you know that no one has ever loved anyone the way that Joel Miller loves you.

But just as quickly as that gentleness appeared, it vanishes into nothing like the fog of your breath in the cold air.

“Gonna show you what happens when little girls roam into the woods,” he says. You can feel his erection as he presses it against you, heavier and harder than you think it’s ever been before. “Can try an’ hunt down the big bad wolf all you want. But if he catches you …”

You’re a trembling mess in his strong hands. His words are the only beacon keeping you grounded, you’re certain of it.

The metal teeth of his zipper grate as he pulls it down and undoes the button of his jeans, pulling his cock out. He slides the head through your arousal, coating himself in your slick. “Just know, whatever he decides to do with you is gonna hurt .”

And then he’s pushing his length into you in one smooth movement, leaving you no time to adjust to the size of him. The stretch is painful and foreboding, every muscle in your body tensing up at the impact. “ Fuck— oh my God —”

“Can pray all you want, but there’s no one out here to save you,” he spits. Joel doesn’t give you a single second to breathe before he’s rocking his hips into you, setting a punishing pace. You can feel his cock throb inside you, can feel that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

You grit your teeth against the pain of it, fingers flexing in his grip. “ Joel —I can’t—!”

“Yes, you can, baby,” he says, voice low and echoing. “I know you can. So shut up and fuckin’ take it.” He leans over you, pressing the side of your face into the ground. You can taste moss and earth but with each thrust, the pain is quickly subsiding, replaced instead with a blinding pleasure.

That warmth builds again, coiling around your spine. Pressure builds quickly and you can feel yourself dripping around him, making a mess of the coarse hair above his cock. “Joel— fuck .”

He reaches on hand around your hip, easily finding your clit and strumming it with swift, practiced movements. You clench around him and he lets out a deep groan in response. When he leans forward and tells you, “Open your mouth,” you do so immediately, brain fuzzy and overstimulated, unwilling to do anything unless he tells you to.

Joel slides two of his fingers into your mouth and shoves them so far down you nearly choke. It’s instinctual when you close your swollen lips around him and suck.

You can hear the smile in his words as he speaks. “There you go,” he mutters. “Told you how this would go, didn’t I? Told you what would happen. Nothin’ but a dumb little slut for me now, baby, hm? Yeah?”

All you can do is nod, unable to form a single coherent thought. Your orgasm hits hard and fast, almost unexpected. It washes through you, electricity dancing beneath your prickling skin. Your moans reverberate through the trees, and you’re suddenly glad he’s driven you so far out so no one can hear you.

“Oh, she likes that ,” Joel says, talking you through it, circling your clit and fucking into you a little harder. “Likes the way it feels to be all full’a me, hm? Yeah, there you go. Gonna give this pretty pussy just what she needs.”

His rhythm falters, staggering just the smallest bit. And while he’s just given you the best orgasm of your fucking life, there’s something about this that makes you feel finally satisfied, full in a way you’ve never been before.

The moment he bottoms out inside of you, Joel turns you on your back and pulls the mask off of his face. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, but there’s a sense of completion in his eyes that you’re sure is mirrored in your own. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose.

And all you can say is, “Oh my God.”

Joel laughs. It’s one of those full, good-natured belly laughs. Your favorite kind. “Well? Was I better than your book?”

You cover your face with your hands, muffling your giggles between your fingers. “Much better.”

#joel miller #pearlessance #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #ao3 fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #ao3 writer #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #smut #halloween

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healerinchief · 2 years ago

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Media can enslave or free you depending on the intention of the program. Their intentions are very blatant if you pay attention to language usage.

Tune into the entire Conversation and more at www.ConversationsWithSorinne.com

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fullsandwichmiracle · 6 months ago

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CAUGHT ON TAPE

Paring: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Joost stumbled upon his old camera, once used for making YouTube videos. As he heard you walking through the door, only one thought consumed his mind.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, oral giving, PnV, unprotected, established relationship, sex on camera, Joost being a little rough, no use of Y/N, one shot

Word count: 2,5k+

It was the middle of a quiet Saturday when you returned home from shopping. After unpacking everything, you wandered through the house, searching for Joost. You eventually found him in the bedroom, lounging in the bed with a camera.

"I found my old camera," he said with a playful grin, pointing it at you and turning it on as you entered the room. "Smile."

You gave a cheeky smile at the camera and waved. "Oh, how fun," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice, though you still felt a bit uneasy about being filmed.

"Can you take off your shirt, lejfe?" he asked, his tone shifting to something more enticing.

"Joost, no, stop recording me!" you exclaimed, trying to hide your laughter as you held up your hand to shield your face from the camera, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling up.

"But you're so pretty," he insisted, his eyes darkening with desire as he tried to capture your face in the frame while beginning to touch himself under the blanket.

You bit your lip, a tantalizing mix of arousal and discomfort coursing through you as you watched him. Despite your efforts to hide from the camera, the intensity of the moment made it increasingly difficult to resist.

"Come on, lejfe, don't be shy. Show me your pretty face," he urged, his voice low and seductive.

With a sigh of resignation, you lowered your hand, exposing your face to the camera, the air in the room growing thick with tension.

"Okay now, take off your top, slow and sexy," Joost continued, his eyes smoldering as he caressed himself over the blanket, every word dripping with desire.

You hesitated, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as Joost's gaze remained locked on you. The room seemed to close in, the atmosphere charged with an electric anticipation. Slowly, you reached for the hem of your shirt, your movements deliberate and sensual.

As you began to lift your top, Joost's breathing grew heavier, his eyes following every inch of exposed skin. The fabric slipped over your shoulders and down your arms, falling to the floor in a soft whisper.

"That's it," Joost murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So beautiful."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, a heady mix of vulnerability and empowerment washing over you. His hand moved rhythmically over the blanket, a visible testament to his arousal. The camera remained trained on you, capturing every moment, every expression.

"Come closer," he commanded softly, his voice a blend of hunger and adoration as he tossed the blanket aside, revealing himself in nothing but a pair of underwear, his arousal evident.

You took a tentative step forward, then another, until you were standing close to the edge of the bed. The proximity made your heart race.

"Your bra," Joost whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "Show me your sexy body."

Your hand trembled slightly as you reached back to unclasp it, letting it fall to the ground.

"Oh, so very, very sexy," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he touched himself through his underwear, struggling to keep the camera steady on you.

"Now your pants, lejfe," he said, his tone low and commanding, a growl of anticipation in his voice.

You bit your lip, a shiver of excitement running through you as you slowly slid off your pants, leaving you in nothing but your blue lace panties with a delicate bow at the waistband.

Joost's eyes darkened with lust as he watched you, his hand moving urgently over himself. The air between you crackled with an almost unbearable tension.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice a raw blend of command and desire as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed.

You stepped closer, the distance between you vanishing until you were standing right at the edge. Joost reached out, his fingers brushing against your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Touch me," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from yours. "Let me feel you."

Your hand trembled slightly as you reached out, your fingers grazing his chest before trailing down to the waistband of his underwear. The contact sent a shiver through you both, the tension in the air palpable. His muscles tensed under your touch, each ripple of sinew responding to your movements. You could hear his breath hitch in anticipation, a sharp intake of air that mirrored your own racing heartbeat.

Joost's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with a mixture of hunger and adoration that made your pulse quicken. As your fingers slipped under the waistband, you felt the heat of his skin, the firmness of his desire. His breathing grew heavier, each exhale a low, throaty sound that sent waves of excitement coursing through you.

The room seemed to close in around you, the atmosphere thick with an electric intensity that made every touch, every movement, feel amplified. Joost's hand found yours, guiding it lower, urging you to explore further.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a strained whisper. "Don't stop."

His hand moved up and cupped your face, his thumb grazing your lower lip with a tenderness that contrasted the raw desire in his eyes. guiding you closer as he leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Joost tried to keep the camera pointed at you as he kissed you passionately.

As the kiss deepened, his hand roamed over your body, caressing every curve and contour. The sensation was intoxicating, each touch sending waves of pleasure through you.

"Get on your knees, lejfe," he breathed against your lips, his voice a desperate plea.

With a shiver of anticipation, you began to kneel down, the camera following your every move. As you lowered yourself, you started to rub him through his underwear once again, feeling him grow and twitch under your touch.

Joost took your chin in his hand, gently tilting your face to meet the camera that he held in front of his eyes. His intense gaze locked onto yours through the display, his desire evident in the way his fingers tightened slightly on your skin.

"So pretty," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and raw hunger. He grazed his thumb over your lips, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, almost teasingly, he pressed his thumb against your lower lip, making you open your mouth softly.

Your lips parted, allowing Joost's thumb to slip inside. You could feel the rough pad of his thumb against your tongue, a sensation both intimate and electrifying. Instinctively, you began to swirl your tongue around it, the taste of his skin mingling with the warmth of your breath.

His eyes darkened with lust as he watched you through the camera, his every breath hitching in anticipation. The sight of you, so responsive and willing, seemed to stoke the fire within him. His hand on the camera trembled slightly, but he steadied it, determined to capture every detail of this intimate moment.

"So sexy," he murmured, his voice a low, throaty growl. "Just like that."

The camera's lens felt like an extension of his gaze, amplifying the intensity of the moment. You could see the raw desire in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as you continued to tease and caress his thumb with your tongue. His breathing grew heavier, each exhale a testament to the effect you were having on him.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. He withdrew his thumb slowly, trailing it down your chin before resting his hand on your cheek. "Now, show me how much you want this."

You nodded, your breath coming in soft pants as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear. Slowly, you pulled them down, revealing his hardness. The sight of him made your pulse quicken, your body reacting with a mix of eagerness and anticipation.

You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat and firmness under your touch. Joost groaned, his head falling back for a moment before he refocused the camera on you.

"Yes, just like that," he encouraged, his voice a husky whisper. "Take your time. Make me feel every second."

You leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his length, teasing him with the lightest touch of your lips. He shivered under your ministrations, his breath hitching each time your mouth made contact with his skin.

"You're driving me crazy," he muttered, his hand tightening on the camera.

You smiled up at him, your eyes meeting his as you finally took him into your mouth. The taste of him, the feel of him filling you, sent a thrill of satisfaction through you. Joost's reaction was immediate, a deep groan escaping him as he fought to keep the camera steady.

"That's perfect, lejfe," he praised, his voice strained with pleasure. "You´re so good. Keep going."

You moved with deliberate slowness, your mouth and hands working in unison to bring him pleasure. The tension in the room grew thicker, the connection between you palpable as you devoted yourself to his satisfaction.

Joost's free hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements with gentle pressure. His breathing became ragged, each exhale a testament to the pleasure you were giving him.

"Look at the camera," he whispered, his voice a desperate plea. "I want to see your beautiful face as you take me."

You glanced up, locking eyes with the lens, knowing that Joost was watching every detail through the display. The raw desire in his voice pushed you to give even more, to show him just how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him. You took him deeper, his length almost making you gag, and a tear rolled down your cheek as you kept eye contact with the lens.

The intensity of the moment surged between you, your movements guided by his desire and your own growing need. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, a silent encouragement as you continued, each stroke and caress fueling the fire between you.

As you worked, the room seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the camera capturing every intimate detail. Joost's groans and murmurs filled the air, mingling with the sound of your soft moans and the wet, rhythmic movements of your mouth. The thrill of being recorded only heightened your arousal, adding a layer of excitement to the already electric atmosphere.

You focused on his pleasure, your own desires echoing in every touch and kiss. His reactions spurred you on, the urgency building with each passing second. With each movement, each sensation, you conveyed your desire, your passion, and your surrender to him. The camera lens captured it all, a testament to the raw, unfiltered connection between you and Joost, in that intimate, charged moment of shared ecstasy.

"So good for me, lejfe," he growled, his voice dripping with desire, as he removed his hand from your hair to wipe the tears from your cheek. "You want me to fuck you now? Huh?" His tone was commanding, filled with a primal urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

With his length still in your mouth, you hummed a yes and nodded, the vibrations causing Joost to shiver in response to your eager affirmation. A deep groan escaped him, resonating in the charged air between you.

"God, lejfe, you feel amazing," he growled, his voice a blend of admiration and urgency.

Joost gently guided you off him, his hand firm in your hair as he assisted you to rise to your feet. The camera remained steady, capturing every heated glance and trembling breath exchanged between you.

He pulled you close, his lips crashing into yours in a fervent kiss that spoke of raw desire and urgent need. His hand gripped your body with an insistent, almost possessive touch, leaving you breathless and craving more.

"Turn around," he growled against your lips, his voice a husky command that sent a thrill down your spine.

You obeyed, turning your back to him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against yours. His hands found your hips, guiding you forcefully to bend over the edge of the bed. The anticipation crackled in the air, your pulse racing with every passing second.

Joost's fingers traced along the waistband of your panties, tugging them down roughly making you let out a moan, exposing you completely. He paused, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "You're so fucking beautiful, lejfe."

His words ignited a fire within you, your body pulsing with desire. Without hesitation, he positioned himself behind you, his grip on your hips firm as he slowly entered you, the sensation overwhelming and exquisite.

A gasp escaped your lips as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and deep. The connection between you intensified with every motion, the pleasure building in waves. Joost's hand roamed your body, his touch igniting every nerve, his voice a constant stream of praise and encouragement.

"Look at the camera," he urged, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. "I want to see your face."

You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with the lens once more. The sight of you, caught in the throes of passion, only fueled Joost's desire further. His movements became more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging into your skin with a rough urgency as he drove you both closer to the edge.

"That's it, lejfe," he panted, his voice filled with reverence. "You're so perfect."

Joost raised his hand and brought it down hard on your skin, leaving a visible mark. The sharp sting mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting a loud moan from deep within your throat. Each sensation heightened your arousal, amplifying the intensity of the moment as you surrendered to the rough passion between you.

The raw intensity of his words, coupled with the roughness of his movements, pushed you beyond the edge. You cried out, the climax washing over you in powerful waves, your body trembling with the force of it. Joost followed closely behind, his own release a guttural groan of satisfaction as he thrust deep within you, the camera capturing every moment of your shared ecstasy. You felt his warmth filling you as he pumped rhythmically, and when he withdrew, the camera documented your combined fluids trickling out, a tangible testament to the passion that had consumed you both.

Joost collapsed beside you on the bed, turning the camera to face him as he caught his breath. "That was incredible, lejfe," he said, his voice still thick with desire. "So perfect."

He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender despite the intense passion that had just transpired. "You were amazing," he murmured, his eyes softening as they met yours.

You smiled, still breathless, and snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The camera, now set aside, seemed to fade into the background as the intimacy between you deepened. Joost wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and affection.

You nodded, your heart still racing. "Yes, it was... interesting," you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

Joost chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm glad. You mean everything to me, lejfe."

His words sent a warm feeling through you. You lay there together, the afterglow of your shared experience enveloping you in a cocoon of contentment.

After a moment, Joost picked up the camera again, this time turning it off and setting it aside with more care. He looked back at you, his expression a mix of love and satisfaction.

"Let's stay like this for a while," he suggested, his voice gentle.

You nodded, nestling into his embrace. As the two of you lay there, the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the comfort and warmth of each other's presence.

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justdavina · 3 months ago

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For years, how beauty products are marketed has defined what many consumers deem ideal or inspirational — and, more often than not, beauty products and trends are imagined on thin, white, cisgendered people. Yet as a new decade approaches, what constitutes beauty is changing. It is no longer standardized.

The beauty industry as a whole does seem to be working toward broader beauty standards and genuine exclusivity, but the transgender community is still marginalized in its mainstream. While buying and using beauty products may seem one of the lesser challenges faced by transgender people on a daily basis, talking to a number of trans women proved their appearance and how they present themselves to the world forms a key part of their identity. It can serve as a tool for self-expression, experimentation, empowerment, and more.

Carmen Carrera

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beta-therapy · 4 months ago

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Female Sexual Freedom = More Sexless Men?

By all metrics, female sexual freedom is at an all-time high in Western society. In this discussion, female sexual freedom / liberation / empowerment is a general term used to describe women’s

-openness to casual sex,

-average number of sexual partners, and

-ability to be sexually promiscuous without social repercussions.

We see today’s women, in large numbers, going out in revealing outfits that draw attention to their sexual features. We know that the typical modern woman does not have the same hesitation toward casual sex that women had 30 years ago. Rather than hide her sexuality and treat it as sacred, she wears it like a crown, unapologetically. She flaunts it on social media.

This is just one effect of a broad scale cultural change in the developed world. As we become more scientifically and technologically savvy, there is a large movement to depart from the ancient wisdom encoded in religious principles, and instead, to derive our values from rationality.

And this is the result. A population of free, empowered women who live with a focus on fun and pleasure. They reject religious dogma (it’s just a bunch of arbitrary rules!). Since there aren’t any objective values and everyone can pick their own, this leads to the feminine tendency to be inclusive and tolerant of everyone (except when it comes to sexual selection, of course. There’s no inclusivity there, but it’s just biology so you should respect women’s decisions).

Now here is the paradox. Sexuality has become a lot more public. Women are much more open to engaging in casual sex. Hookup culture is widespread. We’ve never lived in a more sexual society. So it should follow that your everyday, average Joe is getting a lot more sex, because the barrier to sex is so low, right?

Actually, the opposite is true. The average guy experiences a barrier to sex that has never been higher. It is fair to say the average man today is invisible to women. Check out the standards females set for men today. Check out the statistics on male sexlessness. The number of sexless men has been rapidly increasing every year in this digital age.

The culture is becoming extremely sexual, but here’s the catch: the only men who get to participate are those in the top tier (the men who women actually want to have sex with).

Therefore, instead of saying we live in a hypersexual society, it’s more accurate to say that women are no longer beholden to traditional values, so they can freely express their deepest desires, and instead of getting shamed, they are accepted. We are letting their true colors shine through!

And what did those true colors turn out to be?

Women love sex! But not with an average guy.

In plain, honest terms, what women want is to chase the man with value. The man who could get any girl. She wants to seduce him. Make him fall in love with her. That’s the female sexual fantasy that we’re watching play out. It has nothing to do with giving out sex to an average guy.

This paradox is an example of the tug-of-war between freedom and equity.

Society has removed much of the stigma on sexual promiscuity, substantially increasing our ability to freely make sexual decisions without getting judged. We’re taking down the barriers on sex and sexual behavior, so it’ll be more accessible to everyone!

But the effect is the complete opposite of “more sex for everyone.” Women’s freedom to act out their deepest desires without apology has resulted in the strongest social caste system of men, because those deep desires only pertain to alphas. Some men fuck hundreds of girls. For other men, the only way to have sex is to pay for it.

The same consideration applies to every item of public policy. The laissez faire capitalist system is attractive because everyone is free to make their own decisions. But since consumers are naturally going to select the best products available, the system is prone to monopolistic takeover. The result is that everyone buys from the same few companies, and your average Joe cannot enter the playing field because he has no ability to compete.

We know one thing for certain. Freedom is key! We should all be free to pursue our highest potential. That’s equality of opportunity. You can’t control the outcome without infringing freedom. Some of us will achieve at a high level and reap all the rewards, but most of us will never come close no matter how hard we try. At the end of the day, we accept the rewards if we’ve won, and if not, we don’t complain when we see the spoils awarded to others.

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letyouknowinc · 2 years ago

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Happy Valentine's Day!

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imloyaltoscoups · 8 months ago

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unforgettable memories | yoon jeonghan

As you storm out of Jeonghan's apartment, your heart feels like it's been shattered into a million pieces. Each step you take feels heavy, weighed down by the burden of your emotions. Tears stream down your cheeks uncontrollably, blurring your vision as you try to navigate through the streets.

The memories flood your mind - the laughter, the shared moments, the promises made. But now, it all feels like a cruel joke, a facade that's come crashing down around you. You trusted Jeonghan with your heart, believing that your love was enough to weather any storm. But now, it feels like you've been betrayed, like everything you thought was real was just an illusion.

You try to wipe away the tears, but they keep coming, a relentless reminder of the pain inside you. You want to scream, to let out all the frustration and hurt that's consuming you from within.

But instead, you keep walking, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to escape the pain, even though you know it will follow you wherever you go. And as you disappear into the night, the tears continue to fall, a silent testament to the love you once had, now lost amidst the ruins of a broken relationship.

As you find yourself walking aimlessly, each step a subconscious movement as your mind reels with questions and doubts. The morning sun begins to cast its warm light upon the city, and you stumble upon a small cafe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckons you inside, offering a brief respite from the turmoil within.

You take a seat, hoping that a cup of coffee might provide some solace amidst the chaos of your emotions. As you sip the steaming brew, your thoughts drift to the why's and what-if's of the relationship. Was it something you did wrong? Were you lacking in some way? The self-doubt creeps in, gnawing at the edges of your consciousness.

Lost in your thoughts, you're suddenly jolted back to reality by the persistent ringing of your phone. With a sigh, you glance at the caller ID, recognizing the number instantly. Without hesitation, you block it, a small act of defiance amidst the overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

For a moment, there's a fleeting sense of relief, a brief respite from the build up emotions. But deep down, you know that blocking the number won't erase the pain. So you take another sip of your coffee, hoping that with each swallow, the bitterness of the brew might somehow numb the ache inside.

Your phone continues to demand attention, this time with Seokmin's name flashing on the screen. Despite the uncertainty in your heart, you know Seokmin's call isn't unexpected. After all, you're close with the other members, and he's likely just checking in out of genuine concern.

As you ignore the call, a text message pops up from him, a simple inquiry about how you're doing. It's a reminder that amidst the chaos of your own emotions, there are still people who care about you, who want to see you smile again.

With a deep breath, you compose yourself and begin to type out a reply, masking the pain behind a facade of normalcy. You tell Seokmin that you're doing okay, that it's just been a rough day. You don't mention Jeonghan or the disturbance that's been consuming you. Instead, you focus on the trivial details, hoping to divert attention away from the painful memories you were consumed to.

With each passing day in Seoul, you've made a conscious effort to immerse yourself in the experience, determined not to let the weight of your emotions overshadow the beauty of the city. You've explored its vibrant streets, sampled its culinary delights, and went to the places you wished to visit together with Jeonghan.

As the fourth day draws to a close, you find yourself reflecting on the moments of joy and wonder you've experienced during your time alone here. Despite the lingering ache in your heart, there's a sense of empowerment in knowing that you can find happiness even in the midst of pain.

As you make your way back to the hotel, exhaustion begins to settle in. You finally arrive at your hotel room, you let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the sanctuary it provides amidst the chaos of the outside world. And as you settle into bed, a notification pops up on your phone, a message from Seungkwan inviting you to the celebration, you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you. On one hand, you're genuinely happy for the boys and their success with the new album. They've worked hard, and you know they deserve to celebrate this milestone.

But on the other hand, the thought of facing them, of pretending that everything is okay when it's not, fills you with apprehension. You know that they had no part in Jeonghan's actions, and they're innocent bystanders in the fallout of your relationship. They've always been supportive friends, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface.

As you contemplate whether to attend the celebration or not, you weigh the pros and cons. On one hand, it could be a chance to temporarily escape the heaviness of your emotions, to immerse yourself in the joy of the moment. But on the other hand, it could also be a reminder of everything you've lost, a painful contrast to the happiness you once shared with your former lover.

In the end, you decide to attend, knowing that isolating yourself won't heal the wounds in your heart. After all, you refuse to let Jeonghan's betrayal rob you of your friendships and the joy of celebrating the boys' success. And since today is your last day at the country, you thought meeting with your friends before you go is the perfect way to end this trip.

As you arrive at the venue where the celebration will be held, you feel a surge of nerves coursing through you. Before stepping inside, you decide to give Seungkwan a quick call to let him know you've arrived.

"Kwannie, it's me," you say, trying to sound casual despite the the feeling in your chest.

"Y/N! Are you here now," Seungkwan responds cheerfully. "We're all excited to see you. Oh, and by the way, Hannie said he'll come to pick you up. He's on his way."

Your heart sinks at the mention of Jeonghan's name. You hesitate for a moment, wanting to protest or come up with an excuse, but the words stick in your throat.

"Oh, okay," you finally manage to say, masking your discomfort with a forced smile.

"Great! See you in a bit then," Seungkwan says before hanging up.

As you end the call, a sense of dread settles over you. You know you should have spoken up, should have told him the truth about your breakup with Jeonghan. But the fear of confrontation and the pain of admitting the reality of the situation hold you back.

With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the inevitable encounter with your ex, knowing that facing him will only reopen wounds that have yet to heal.

As you scan the room, your heart clenches when you spot Jeonghan making his way towards you, a warm smile playing on his lips. Despite the pain and betrayal you feel, a part of you still longs for the familiarity of his embrace.

But as he draws closer, his arms outstretched in invitation for a hug, you feel a surge of anger and indignation rising within you. How dare he act as though everything is normal after what he's done?

You step back, halting his advancement, and the smile on his face falters for a moment, replaced by a look of confusion and concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern.

You feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, and for a moment, you're tempted to spill everything, to unleash the torrent of emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface. But you clamp down on the impulse, steeling yourself against the vulnerability of exposing your heart to him once again.

"The audacity you have..." you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy in the air between you.

Jeonghan's expression softens, his eyes searching yours for answers that you're not ready to give.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. "Can we talk?"

But you shake your head, your resolve hardening with each passing moment.

"Not now," you reply, your voice firm despite the tremor in your heart. "I'm not ready."

And with that, you turn away, leaving Jeonghan standing there, his outstretched arms falling to his sides, a silent testimony to the chasm that now lies between you.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you make your way over to where Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Hoshi are gathered, chatting and enjoying their drinks.

"Hey, guys," you say, mustering a smile despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside you.

"Hey, there you are!" Seokmin exclaims, his face lighting up as he spots you. "Welcome back!"

"Yeah, we were wondering when you'd show up," Hoshi chimes in with a playful grin.

Seungkwan nods in agreement, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "We missed you!"

You return their smiles, pushing aside the pain for the moment as you focus on celebrating their success.

"Congratulations on the album launch!" you say, genuine warmth seeping into your voice. "You guys did an amazing job. I'm so proud of you."

Seokmin beams at your words, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks! We really appreciate it. We couldn't have done it without the support of our fans and friends like you."

As the conversation flows and laughter fills the air, Seungkwan suggests, "Hey, why don't we go find the others? They'd be thrilled to see you here."

You hesitate for a moment, the thought of facing the rest of the members stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. But you know that avoiding them won't make things any easier, and deep down, you long for the comfort of their familiar presence.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," you reply, mustering a smile despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach.

Seungkwan grins, his enthusiasm infectious. "Great! They're over at that corner table near the stage. Let's go, I'll show you the way."

You follow Seungkwan's lead as he guides you through the bustling crowd, weaving between clusters of people until you reach the designated area where the rest of the members are gathered.

As you approach the table, you're met with a chorus of greetings and smiles from the familiar faces of Joshua, Mingyu, and Wonwoo.

"Y/N! Nice to see you again!," Joshua says, his warm smile putting you at ease.

Mingyu nudges Wonwoo, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Told you Y/N wouldn't miss out on all the fun!"

Wonwoo chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess you were right."

As the conversation flows smoothly among the group, Joshua's question catches you completely off guard. You feel a momentary panic rise within you, unsure of how to navigate the delicate balance between honesty and protecting your heart.

Joshua's gaze is gentle, his concern evident as he waits for your response. You swallow hard, searching for the right words to convey the truth without revealing too much.

"We're... uh, doing okay," you finally manage to say, forcing a small smile despite the discomfort gnawing at your insides.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, sensing the hesitation in your voice. "Just okay?"

You glance at Seungkwan, silently pleading for support, but he only offers a sympathetic smile in return.

"Yeah, you know how it is," you reply, deflecting the question with a casual shrug. "Just taking things one day at a time."

The others nod in understanding, their expressions a mixture of sympathy and concern. You feel a pang of guilt for not being more honest with them, but the fear of exposing your vulnerability keeps you from saying more.

Thankfully, the conversation quickly shifts to lighter topics, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief, grateful for the distraction.

You glance down at your nearly empty glass, using it as an excuse to momentarily escape the intensity of the conversation. Clearing your throat, you offer a small smile to the group.

"Sorry, I'll be right back. Just need to grab another drink," you say, your voice light and casual, though your heart still feels heavy with unspoken emotions.

Seungkwan nods understandingly. "Sure thing, take your time. We'll be right here."

With a murmured word of thanks, you slip away from the table, grateful for the brief respite from the weight of the conversation. As you make your way to the bar, you can't help but feel a sense of relief at the opportunity to gather your thoughts and compose yourself.

At the bar, you signal to the bartender for another drink, grateful for the chance to momentarily drown out the chaos of your emotions with the clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversation around you.

As you wait for your drink, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable return to the group.

Your heart skips a beat as you hear Mingyu's voice shouting across the room, the sudden tension pulling you back into the present moment. You quicken your pace, anxiety gnawing at your insides as you approach the table.

As you arrive, Mingyu's eyes lock onto yours, a knowing look in his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine. "She knows," he says again, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and concern.

You furrow your brow, confusion clouding your thoughts as you try to make sense of his words. "Knows what?" you ask, your voice tinged with apprehension.

Before anyone can respond to your question, another voice, one that is hauntingly familiar, echoes in your ears. You turn around, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread, and your eyes widen in shock as you see her standing there, conversing with Seungcheol and Dino.

Your mind races as you try to comprehend the sight before you. It feels like a cruel twist of fate, a moment you never could have imagined in your wildest dreams. And yet, there she is, a ghost from your past, standing mere feet away from you.

As you turn back to face your friends, a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to speak. You gulp down the rising tide of emotion, mustering the courage to confront them with the question that weighs heavily on your heart.

"Are you guys aware of this?" you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and betrayal.

Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Hoshi exchange uneasy glances, their expressions clouded with guilt and remorse. Seungkwan steps forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "We… we're sorry, Y/N. We didn't know what to do. We thought… we thought it was best to stay out of it."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with disbelief. Since when? Since when had they known about Jeonghan's cheating, about the betrayal that had been lurking in the shadows all this time? And why had they chosen to keep it from you, to shield you from the truth at the cost of your own pain?

Tears began to blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of it all. "Since when?" you repeat, your voice cracking with emotion.

Joshua hangs his head, unable to meet your gaze. "For a while now," he admits, his voice thick with regret. "We didn't want to hurt you, Y/N. We were just trying to protect you."

But their words offer little comfort as the realization sinks in - that they had known about Jeonghan's betrayal all along, and yet they had chosen to keep it from you, to spare you the pain of facing the truth.

Your words come out sharper than intended, laced with bitterness and resentment as you struggle to process the magnitude of the betrayal. You clear your throat, trying to steady your voice as you address your friends.

"Well, of course you guys would hide it," you say, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "After all, Hannie has been with you guys since your teens, right? Three years of friendship with me couldn't possibly compare."

The words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the imbalance in your relationship with Jeonghan and your friends. You feel a surge of anger rising within you, fueled by the realization that they had chosen loyalty to him over honesty with you.

But beneath the anger lies a deeper hurt, a sense of betrayal that cuts to the core of your being. You had thought they were your friends, your confidants, the ones you could rely on no matter what. And yet, they had chosen to keep such a significant secret from you, robbing you of the chance to confront the truth and reclaim control over your own life.

"Well, thank you for inviting me here," you say, the words dripping with sarcasm. "At least I have a reason to never come back here again. Thank you for making my stay here memorable, again congratulations with the album."

With that, you place your drink down on the table, the clink of glass against wood echoing in the tense silence that hangs between you and your friends. You straighten your posture, steeling yourself against the waves of emotion threatening to overwhelm you.

As you turn to leave, you can feel their eyes on you, filled with regret and remorse. But the damage has been done, the trust irreparably shattered. You refuse to look back, unwilling to subject yourself to any further pain or betrayal.

As you begin to walk away, a hand grabs your arm, pulling you back with a force that startles you. You turn around to see Jeonghan, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. His eyes plead with you, a desperate plea for one last chance to explain.

"Please," he gasps, his voice raw with emotion. "Can we talk for the last time?"

Your anger boils over at his audacity, at the nerve he has to ask for your time after what he's done. Without thinking, you raise your hand and slap him across the face, the sound echoing in the empty space between you.

"How dare you?" you seethe, your voice trembling with rage. "You know what you did. You know where I come from, what my family has been through. You promised me you would never do this, that you would never cheat on me."

Tears blur your vision as you confront him, the pain of his betrayal cutting deep into your soul. The weight of your broken trust hangs heavily in the air, a silent accusation against the man who promised to love and cherish you, but ultimately chose to betray you in the worst possible way.

Jeonghan recoils from your slap, his hand coming up to touch his stinging cheek. His eyes are filled with regret and remorse, but it's too little, too late.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the roar of your anger. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Tears stream down your cheeks as you confront Jeonghan with the depth of your pain and betrayal. Anguish and resentment surge within you, fueling the torrent of words that spill from your lips like a flood.

"And the fact that the other members know about this, not just recently, but from the start!" you exclaim, your voice trembling with emotion. "You should have asked to break up, Jeonghan. You should have been honest if you were getting tired of me cause of this LDR. You make me question if what we have is really real, if you really do love me."

Your hand instinctively clenches into a fist, and you hit his chest, the force of your blow fueled by days of pent-up frustration and disappointment. Jeonghan winces at the impact, but his eyes remain fixed on yours, filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

"I do love you," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "I still do."

But his words ring hollow in your ears, drowned out by the echoes of his betrayal. You shake your head, unable to bear the weight of his empty promises any longer.

"If you really love me," you continue, your voice trembling with emotion, "you would never even entertain the thought of cheating. You would have respected me enough to be honest, to communicate, to work through our problems together."

"I can't do this anymore," you say, your voice filled with resignation. "I deserve better than this."

And as you turn away, the echoes of your words lingering in the air, you can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to trust again, if you'll ever be able to love again, after the wounds Jeonghan and your "friends" has inflicted upon your heart.

part 1 , part 3

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

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