#i kinda hate this how did it take me so long
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I'll Crawl Home To Her
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summary: all the ways joel miller loves his pretty, little wife. and all the ways she loves him right back.
pairing: husband!joel miller x wife!reader
warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, traditional gender roles, pussy eating, vaginal sex, semi-public, exhibitionism kinda, dom/sub undertones, car sex, biting, dirty talk, joel is a certified munch, feminine reader, a whole bunch of tooth-rotting fluff
wc: 4.1k
note: something soft and sweet, tysm for reading, let me know what you think! <3
[masterlist] [read on AO3!]
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Being Joel Miller's wife was, in short, marital bliss.
He loved taking care of you, and it showed in everything he did.
Joel always woke up earlier than you. On days he had to work, his alarm would rouse you just enough that you’d roll over to his side of the bed the moment he vacated it, soaking up his warmth and his scent, snuggling into his pillow. He’d kiss your forehead and tuck you in tight, and you’d fall asleep seconds after he whispered, “Have a good day, baby girl. Love you.”
And once you did finally roll out of bed, sunlight leaking in through the kitchen blinds, you’d find a fresh pot of coffee and your favorite mug sitting on the counter.
He worked long hours, but you could never fault him for it. He was doing it even in his old age to grant you the freedom to do any and everything you desired. Supporting you in all your endeavors no matter how fleeting.
When you’d picked up the hobby of gardening, Joel had taken you to three different greenhouses in one weekend and helped you till a section of the backyard to plant your seeds. And later that week, he’d come home with the back of his truck full of pretty white bricks to outline your garden with.
You’d mentioned once with your hands covered in suds how the dishes were your least favorite chore. You hated how they piled up so quickly, hated leaving them in the sink, how they felt never-ending.
“I can do the dishes, darlin’,” he’d said. “Just leave them for me an’ I’ll do ‘em after work every day.”
You loved him for the offer but refused. He already spoiled you enough as it is. You couldn’t imagine watching him standing at the sink every day after working for ten hours. “Are you crazy? No, I’d never let you do that.”
“Don’t bother me none,” he insisted. “S’only fair, considerin’ how good dinner is every night.”
The compliment made you flush, but still, you stood firm. Even when he’d come up behind you with a dish towel in hand, ready to take your place. You’d slapped his hands away. “Joel, no. Let me. Please.”
“Alright, fine,” he said, setting the towel on the counter. His hands found a new way to occupy themselves, though. Slipping beneath your skirt, squeezing at the softness of your thighs. “But at least let me get my desert.”
He’d had you bent over the countertop that night with your panties around your knees. He’d hummed his I love you’s against your spit-soaked clit in the middle of the kitchen and you’d felt like the most spoiled girl in the world.
Even more so when he’d come home from work early the next day. He and Tommy walked through the front door with a brand new dishwasher in tow and spent all night assembling it.
Once, you’d been late coming back from the grocery store. Janet, the older woman who lived two houses down from you and Joel, had been berating the cashier for not accepting an expired coupon.
Confrontation had never been your strong suit, but it felt less like conflict and more like second nature to step in and defend a teenage girl just trying to do her job. You attempted to reason with Janet, explaining that it wasn’t the cashier's fault, that the use of her coupon perhaps just wasn’t meant to be. You’d even offered to pay for her entire shopping haul if it meant a break for the young girl.
Of course, this wasn’t what Janet had wanted to hear, and she instead turned her anger on you. Your cheeks had warmed in embarrassment as she yelled your name aloud for all the other customers to hear, telling you to ‘keep your nose where it belonged.’
The whole interaction had frazzled you. But more than that, it had made you late. And while being screamed at so publically had certainly thrown you off kilter, the straw that broke the camel’s back was seeing Joel’s truck in the driveway when you got home.
He had mentioned once how much he loved having someone to come home to. Had explained how seeing you standing there with a smile on your face waiting for him on the front porch every day made the long hours and unbearable heat worth it. But because of Janet, you weren’t there.
Joel, your Joel—who always takes care of you, who would do anything for you, who puts your happiness above his own, the most selfless man you’ve ever known—had come home to an empty house. Worked twelve hours beneath the Texas sun to come home to absolute silence.
It didn’t matter that you’d left a note on the kitchen table, you’d meant to get back before he could ever read it.
The tears had come quickly. The embarrassment, the frustration, the anger you felt on that young girl’s behalf, came rushing to the surface all at once.
He’d left the door unlocked for you, like usual, and the moment you stepped inside you could hear the familiar, heavy sound of his boots on the wooden floor. “Hey, sweetheart. How was your—?”
Before he could ask any questions you’d flung yourself into his arms, needing comfort, needing to show him how much you loved him. To prove to him that you weren’t home but you wanted to be, more than anything. “I’m so sorry,” was all you managed to choke out.
Joel, who valued your safety above all else, immediately stiffened yet pulled you closer, wrapping his big arms around your shoulders, his warm hand splayed across the small of your back. “Hey, hey—shh, what happened? Talk to me, sweet girl. C’mon.”
He cradled your face in his palm, holding you gently as if you were the most precious thing because, to him, you are. He wiped your tears away with the rough pad of his thumb and listened as you explained, “I—I wasn’t here waiting for you! I’m sorry—I…I tried to come home as fast—as fast as I could but—!”
“S’okay, baby. I know you’ll always come home to me, alright? I’m not mad. Could never be mad at you, y’know that.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, to the arch of your brow, to the bridge of your nose. He rubbed soothing circles into your skin until your tears slowed and your breaths found their normal cadence once again. And then, because he knows you, he asked, “What really happened?”
And you tell him. Every detail. And Joel stands there, holding you, listening with bated breath.
When you finish, he pulls his shoulders back with a newfound objective. “M’gonna go talk to Lee,” he said.
Janet’s husband was a good man, you knew. Similar to Joel in the way of being a nurturing sort of husband. A hard-working man with never a bad thing to say about anyone. “You don’t have to,” you tell Joel. “What she did was wrong but I’d rather she takes it out on me than a kid at their first job.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t just let it go,” he said. “She disrespected my wife. Not the kinda thing I can turn the other cheek to.”
“Joel—don’t…don’t—” You weren’t sure what you were asking. His insistence didn’t surprise you in the least, but you didn’t want to start anything that would disrupt the peace the two of you’d spent so much time cultivating.
He seems to understand you despite your lack of vocal explanation. “Just gonna have a word with him, sweetheart. That’s all.”
Before he walked out the door, he asked very specifically for the Mediterranean chicken dish you’d made for him last week. Which was strange only because he never asked for anything specific; he simply asked you to cook whatever you felt like, and insisted that somehow you knew his cravings better than he himself did.
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later, as you put the chicken in the oven that you realized he’d done it to distract you, to take your mind off the situation at hand while he went and handled it. Helping you without even being in the same room.
When he came home, Joel answered all of your questions at the dinner table and said that he and Lee had shared a beer and talked it over. Warned you to expect an apology the next time you and Janet crossed paths.
And sure enough, that weekend there was a knock on the front door.
Joel stood behind you, a looming, protective presence at your back. A safety net as your neighbor apologized for her actions and offered a plate of chocolate chip cookies as amends.
You forgave her, of course. Even invited her in so the two of you could talk about it over a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade on the back porch. She compliments you on the roses growing in your garden and you clip a couple off to send her home with.
Problem solved. Amends made.
All because of Joel.
Your closest friends even teased you about it from time to time, making jokes about how spoiled you are, and about how much he cares for you.
When you’re out having a girls' night with the three of them, you share laughs and chips and salsa and have one too many glasses of wine. They all discuss sharing an Uber, but you interject to say, “No worries. Joel will make sure we get home safe.”
And they tease you about that, too, telling you, “You’ve got that big man wrapped tight around your little finger.”
But you’re not wrong, and you suppose your friends aren’t, either. Because he shows up at the diner ten minutes after you send him a text message, and deals with four drunk young women with such grace it’s almost astonishing. Even pulls a soft, secret smile as he listens to the group of you giggle together at something that’s probably not nearly as funny to him.
You asked him about it later, about that gentle amusement he wore, and he explained simply, “What makes you happy makes me happy, darlin.’”
And you understand exactly what he means. Understand how your happiness, your frustrations, your love is mirrored perfectly in his heart. Because you feel it, too.
It’s why whenever he says he’s craving something, whether it’s fast food or some elaborate dish, you’ll always find a way to get it onto his dinner plate that night. It’s why you make an extra stop during grocery shopping to get that local ground coffee he likes.
He’d said once how much he loves the way pale blue looks against your skin, and every time you shop for clothes you find yourself gravitating towards the shade.
You do his laundry and put a towel in the dryer every time he steps in the shower so it’s warm when he gets out. You teach him about skincare and he sits dutifully in bed every Sunday night with a face mask on and a pore strip on his nose. You schedule his doctor and dentist appointments and have never once been successful at fighting off your wide grin as you tell the receptionist on the phone that you’re his wife and they refer to you as Mrs. Miller for the remainder of the call.
Give and take, push and pull—the two of you fit seamlessly together. You take care of him, and he takes care of you, and whatever was left each day you figured out together.
So, when you make your way to the kitchen one early morning to see his lunch still in the fridge, untouched, and his coffee mug in the sink and not the dishwasher, you know something must have gone awry. Something to disrupt his morning routine.
You find your phone only to read a text message he’d left you at six this morning.
Good morning, sweet girl. Slept through my alarm, might have to stay over today to finish. Love you.
Joel’s an independent man, you know. Perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And you know he’ll likely buy lunch for himself and Tommy, likely some gas station pizza and a soda. But you don’t like the idea of him needing to do that. Don’t like the idea of him eating anything you don’t make for him just the way he likes.
So, you spend the morning getting all dolled up. You wear that pale blue sundress he likes. You curl your hair, coat your lashes in mascara, and spray that expensive, vanilla-scented perfume he got you for your birthday last year.
And then you grab his lunch from the fridge and make your way to the construction site. You find Joel’s truck easily and park beside it. You’re not sure why, but being here makes your heart race.
You’ve met the majority of the guys on his crew, and they all know who you are. Countless times you’ve forced Joel to bring in containers full of cookies and pastries you’d bake the night before to share. He’s even brought a couple of them home for dinner before, and invited their wives and kids to fill your home with a little extra love and laughter for the evening.
But for some reason, this feels…different. Like you’re encroaching on their territory, invading space that doesn’t belong to you.
They’re working inside some big structure that has only the framing and roof finished, wooden beams allotting space for each room. You can hear them shouting at each other and the sound of hammers striking nails into place. Somewhere a little further into the building, there’s the mechanical whirring of a drill, but you see no face you recognize.
One of the younger-looking men up in the rafters notices you first. “Well, hello there pretty little lady. Did you need some help?”
You open your mouth to speak, to ask where you might find Joel or even Tommy. But then—
“Dean, you look at my wife like that again and it’ll be the last time you have eyes to look at anyone.” Joel rests his hand on the small of your back as he saddles up to your side. You turn to face him, and can’t help your smirk upon discovering the intimidating scowl on his face that he directs to Dean. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry about that, Mrs. Miller.”
“It’s alright, Dean. You didn’t know,” you insist. But Joel narrows his eyes even further and doesn’t stop until you playfully hit his bicep. “It’s fine.”
His expression softens considerably when he looks at you, deep frown turning into a warm smile instead. “Hey, baby girl.” Joel pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. Nothing out of the ordinary for him, nothing you don’t expect. But what you don’t expect is for his hand on the small of your back to sink lower, grabbing a lewd fist full of your ass.
The surprise has your lips parting, but Joel only takes it to his advantage, tongue slipping between them to glide smoothly against yours.
When he finally pulls away your face is flushed and he wears that satisfied smirk like armor. He glances up at Dean, whose ears are now red-hot even though he tries very hard to pretend like he’s busy. “I’m taking a twenty. Be back in a bit.”
He takes your hand in his and leads you back outside, and once he opens the passenger door of your truck he’s quick to put his hands on your hips and lift you to help you inside.
You expect him to close the door and round the front of the truck to get in behind the wheel, but he doesn’t. Before you’re even able to turn and tuck your legs inside, he’s pushing you back against the leather seats and sliding his calloused hands up your thighs beneath your dress. “Joel,” you say, but you don’t attempt to stop him.
The passenger door’s propped open, just enough to shield him from view as he stands behind it. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down and peppers open-mouthed kisses across the exposed skin of your chest, teeth nipping at your cleavage. But then he’s biting you—hard, and pressure pools low in your belly as his tongue flicks over the hurt to soothe. “Always take such good care of me. Had such a rough morning but seein’ you changes it all around.”
You’re giggling uncontrollably, overwhelmed by his sudden need, basking beneath the warmth of his praise. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the ends. “We shouldn’t,” you say. “Someone will see. You’re crazy, old man, do you know that?”
“Yeah, crazy for you.” Normally you’d scold him some more, accuse him of being the absolute cheesiest man that you’ve ever met. But you don’t have the chance before he’s pushing your knees apart and pressing those hot, wet kisses to the inside of your thighs. “Can front all you want, but I’m not dumb, baby. Think you got all dressed up and came all this way for nothing? Nuh-uh.”
This hadn’t been your intention in the slightest, but now that you’re here, and his head’s between your thighs… “I just brought your lunch!”
Joel smirks. “Fuckin’ right you did.”
You have to cover your mouth to quiet your laughter. “But…seriously. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Starving, sweetheart,” he says. “Now spread your legs.”
You do. Of course you do.
And Joel makes quick work of you, wasting not a second before his tongue slides through your wet heat with expert precision. He hooks his arms around your thighs and drags you to the end of the leather seat, pressing his face against you. Your clit pulses with need and he takes care of that ache for you, too. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping at you with the flat of his tongue, ratcheting your pleasure to an almost unbearable place.
It doesn’t take long before your back is arching off the leather, hands tugging desperately at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You’re whimpering his name and he’s letting out these deep, throaty groans that have your toes curling in your high-top sneakers.
In just a couple minutes he has you right there—right on the edge, so close to your orgasm you can taste it, and then he pulls away. You’re whining immediately, desperate whimpers falling for your lips.
“Shh. S’alright, baby girl. I’m comin',’” Joel tells you. And then you watch through bleary, tear-filled eyes as he undoes his tool belt and sets it on the floor of his truck.
The clink of his belt buckle reverberates through your ears, and you whimper again but before you can start begging he’s got his cock in his hand and he’s pressing the big, heavy tip into you. “Oh my God,” you cry, breath stuck in your lungs.
It feels so good—he always does. He says, “C’mere, baby,” before gripping the front of your dress and pulling you up towards him. He hooks your legs around his hips and sinks into you slow, real slow. Gives you time to adjust to the size of him, time for your pussy to make room for it. He kisses you hard, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the men on his team working thirty feet away.
Your heart races in your chest and you think about warning him again that this might be a bad idea, but then he’s sinking his cock alllll the way into you, pushing against that sweet spot inside, and everything else fades into nothing.
There’s nothing but Joel—your gentle, safe, loving husband, who always takes care of you and always will.
He pulls out slowly, moaning low, and then slams back into you. Again and again and again. He sets such a punishing pace that your eyes roll back and you have to sink your nails into his shoulders just to ground yourself, his gray cotton t-shirt soft and familiar beneath your fingertips. “Fuck, fuck, Joel.”
“Pretty pussy’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby,” he says. “Know just what to give her. Know just what she needs.”
You can feel your slick coating the inside of your thighs, your orgasm creeping right back up your spine as if it’d never faded in the first place. He squeezes your thighs hard enough to bruise but it only brings you higher, gets you closer. Your clit pulses and you swear you can feel his cock throbbing inside you in tandem, a perfect man made just for you.
His hips slam into you, bringing you closer and closer and closer, until finally— “Joel, Joel, I—oh my god, shit—!”
“Ohh, sweet girl…you gonna cum for me? Hm? Feels that good? Needed it that bad, didn’t you,” he says, and it’s not a question because he just knows.
“Yes, yes, please—Joel, I’m gonna—!”
He takes a hand and grips the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. “I know, baby, s’alright. Give it to me. Yeah, that’s it. There you go.”
Your orgasm hits you hard, makeup smearing as your eyes water. Every nerve ending flares on end, euphoria washing over you and pulling your senses taut. “Cum with me, cum with me, oh god.”
He fucks you through it, and it only takes a couple more meaningful strokes before his hips are stuttering. Joel presses his forehead to yours and kisses you gently, spilling inside you with his cock pressed into you as deep as he can get. He cums with you and the words that leave his mouth as he reaches the summit give you goosebumps. “Love you, sweet girl. Love you so fuckin’ much.”
When he finally comes down, Joel’s panting breaths are in perfect sync with yours. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. And when you start giggling he breaks out that soft, gentle smile and it turns your insides to mush.
You wince as he slowly pulls out of you and stuffs himself back into his jeans, pulling on the leather of his belt and fastening it back into place.
“Still have a couple minutes before you have to get back,” you say, cheeks warming as he helps you slide your panties back up your legs. “You really should eat something. Like, actual food. Sustenance.”
“Oh, I’m plenty satisfied,” he jokes. But when you unzip his cooler and sift through it, pulling out the turkey, tomato, and cheese sandwich you’d made him last night, he takes it from you with greedy hands.
He eats quickly and you watch him in awe, unbelieving that he’s real, and much less that you’d somehow convinced him to love you. A perfect man, all your own, so beautiful and kind and selfless. You don’t think anyone’s loved anymore more than you love Joel.
Playfully, he taps the tip of your nose as he wolfs down the last bite of his sandwich. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”
“Just you,” is your answer.
“Me?”
“About how much I love you.”
His smile widens and he reaches his hand out, cradling your face, running his thumb along your cheekbone. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.”
You press your face into his hand, bottom lip jutting out. A part of you wants to beg him to come home early, to use a sick day, and hold you for hours. But instead, you kiss the palm of his hand and jump out of the truck, gravel crunching beneath your feet. “You should probably get back. Don’t want you staying any later than you have to.”
Joel lets out a heavy sigh but nods his head in agreement. He closes the door of his truck and opens the door to your car instead. “Get home safe, alright? I’ll try and get this done as soon as I can. You want me to pick something up after for dinner? Kinda cravin’ pizza.”
“Let me know when you’re leaving the site and I’ll call and put in an order for pickup. Get one for Tommy too so he can take it with him. Wanna make sure he eats. Sound good?”
He kisses you hard and nods. “Sounds real good. See you at home, baby girl.”
“I’ll be waiting on the porch,” you promise.
Like you always are. Like you always will be.
#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#smut#ao3 fanfic#pearlessance#joel miller x you#the last of us#tlou#fluff#one shot
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This took me so long I'm so sorryyyyy. I meant to do this like, last week. I've just been busy prepping for my new addition lol.
I adored this one, you did such a good job writing him and I think this is one of my fav Logan fics from you!
Like always my thoughts and such are below the cut ~
He hates how commercialized the holiday is thanks to the multi-billion dollar corporations that fill department stores with trinkets the second that Christmas is over. He hates all of the pressure and unrealistic expectations that come with planning the perfect date. And as much as he hates to admit it to himself, he hates that it's a stark reminder that he's just as alone in this universe as he had been in the last one.
My first thought was yes, I feel this hard.
He'd never admit it aloud, but just maybe the fact that he can’t keep his thoughts from straying to a specific next door neighbor certainly doesn’t help. He hates to use the word crush at his grown age, but he can’t really think of a better word for it. If it’s not a crush, why else would he be wondering what your plans are for this evening? Why else would he feel the unmistakable, undeniable twinge of jealousy when he thinks of the mere possibility of you spending your night in the arms of someone other than him?
I love a jealous Logan. I love the neighbor trope so much too, it was one I never really thought about until reading your fics.
“Oh, no. Not a date,” you correct him quickly with a bashful grin. “Well, maybe. Is it considered a date if I’m dining by myself?” “You’re going to dinner by yourself?” Logan asks, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. “Looking like that?”
Ay ay ay...Logan, don't judge. Sometimes it's nice to go out and treat yourself
All it takes is one look at the table that the host takes the two of you to for Logan to realize that he has indeed never had Korean barbecue. You don’t appear to be the slightest bit confused so he assumes that the circular grill built into the middle of the table is normal, though he’s never seen anything quite like it in a restaurant before. You giggle when you notice the curious expression on his face. “It’s kinda like hibachi,” you begin. “Except instead of someone cooking it in front of you, you cook it yourself.” Logan takes in the array of various meats on the tray to the left of him. You pick up a piece of what appears to be some kind of beef with a pair of tongs, and place it on the grill. It sizzles, and he watches as you add a few more pieces of meat onto the hot surface. “Isn’t that kinda the whole point of going to a restaurant? To have someone else cook the food for you?” He asks the question as gently as he can, not wanting to hurt your feelings. He’s just happy to be here with you – even if he doesn’t fully understand the appeal of going to a restaurant to pay to cook your own food.
I've never been to a place like this or had Korean bbq at all and my first thought was the same as his, but I've always wanted to try it lol.
“Last week, when we got stuck in the elevator together,” you begin in a low voice. He swears that your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second before meeting his gaze once more. “Were you nervous?”
She's better than me I'd NEVER work myself to ask him this lmaoo
“Do you wanna come up to my place?” you breathe, nodding your head in the direction of the apartment building. “What? You don’t wanna come to mine and hang out with Al?” he teases, nudging you in the direction of the building’s entrance. “As tempting as that sounds…” You trail off, following his lead. The second that the elevator door comes to a close, his hands are back on you. He backs you up against the wall, his hands gripping your hips as you spread your legs enough to allow one of his thick thighs in between them. This time, he’s the one who kisses you, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between your lips. You whimper into the kiss, your tongue fighting his for dominance.
Yesss this is what I was waiting for! She's so playful lol and he's a big ol' tease.
“Fuckin’ hell,” you groan. “Not this again.”
No no...this is good.
There’s a mischievous look on your face. Before he can question you, you’re sliding down the wall until you reach the floor. You reach for his belt with your hands, making quick work of undoing the buckle and then the button to his jeans. Oh. All Logan can do is stare down at you in wonderment as you tug his zipper down. “This okay with you?” you ask, but the look on your face says that you already know the answer.
This okay with you - girl, he's about to bust rn. He's def okay with this lol
Later, he tells himself. He’ll get you naked later, in the privacy of your apartment, where there’s no risk of the elevator doors sliding open at any given moment.
A gentleman, don't argue w me.
Your cunt tastes as sweet as the fruity wine from the restaurant did on your tongue. He eats you like he wants to get drunk off of you, alternating between soft licks through your folds and fervent kisses to your swollen bud. He feels your legs quiver around the sides of his head. He supports you from below, letting you go all but limp above him. He glances up at you, your head thrown back in pleasure and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.
He is diving in there 😩 Grab his hair and tug -
“Do you.. wanna wait until we get back to your..?” “God, no,” you exhale, and pull him to you by grabbing his flannel in your fists.
LMAO same girl 😭
“Mind if I still come back to your place? I know we just…” He trails off, glancing down at where he’s still tucked inside you. “But I just realized I forgot to pick up cigarettes for Al and she isn’t gonna be too happy with me.” You roll your eyes, and playfully push him away from you so that you can tug your skirt back into place. “I think I can find a way to be okay with that,” you smirk. “If we ever get out of this fuckin’ elevator.”
This ending was so hilarious too I absolutely loved it from start to finish. The fin little moments and the build up, the smut scene was HOT and the funny little quips added into the fic were MUAH. You did sooo good with this one ~ 💕💕💕
either way, i'm going your way
logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)
word count: 4k
summary: logan doesn't remember the last time he celebrated valentine's day, and he doesn't have any reason to believe that this year will be any different. then he runs into you, wade's neighbor, who happens to love the holiday despite not having anyone to celebrate it with.
warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, sex in a public place kind of, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v, logan's pov, neighbor!reader, reader is afab, reader is described as being shorter than logan, no use of y/n, hints of grumpy x sunshine
this is my entry for @yxtkiwiyxt & @lubdubology valentine's writing challenge! thank you both for hosting this, i can't wait to read the other submissions ❤️
logan howlett masterlist
Logan has been alive for two centuries worth of Valentine's Days. He can count on one hand how many he’s actually celebrated, and he can't recall the last time he had a reason to even acknowledge the day.
To him, Valentine’s Days have always been just another Tuesday, or Thursday, or whatever day it falls on that year.
He hates how commercialized the holiday is thanks to the multi-billion dollar corporations that fill department stores with trinkets the second that Christmas is over. He hates all of the pressure and unrealistic expectations that come with planning the perfect date. And as much as he hates to admit it to himself, he hates that it's a stark reminder that he's just as alone in this universe as he had been in the last one.
Technically he can't say that he's entirely alone. Romantically? Yes. Sexually? Yes.
Physically, however, he’s lodged between a blind eighty-year-old cocaine addict and a ten pound living tumor - the latter of whom keeps trying to French kiss him.
Wade might be out with Vanessa for Valentine’s Day, but for Logan, this is any other Friday night – watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire reruns with Al and Mary Puppins.
Something about his current predicament makes him feel even more alone than if he actually were alone. Maybe it’s how unfamiliar and foreign this universe still feels in so many ways – he’s been here for some months now, but there’s some things that remind him that he still has a ways to go in terms of adjustment.
He'd never admit it aloud, but just maybe the fact that he can’t keep his thoughts from straying to a specific next door neighbor certainly doesn’t help. He hates to use the word crush at his grown age, but he can’t really think of a better word for it. If it’s not a crush, why else would he be wondering what your plans are for this evening? Why else would he feel the unmistakable, undeniable twinge of jealousy when he thinks of the mere possibility of you spending your night in the arms of someone other than him?
He has no one to blame but himself, and he knows it. He had the perfect opportunity to ask you out just last week, and he didn’t take it. The two of you were both taking the elevator up to your neighboring apartments when it broke down for the third fucking time in the last month. It took nearly an hour for maintenance to get it back up and running, and he couldn’t find the nerve to simply ask if you have any plans at any point during the time you were trapped in the fifteen square feet of space together. Instead, he awkwardly rambled about he had walked in on Wade and Vanessa in a compromising position the day before.
He cringes at the memory, tossing back another swig of whiskey when he realizes the bottle is empty. He sighs, earning a side-eye from Mary Puppins.
If this is how he’s going to be spending his evening, he should at least be a little intoxicated.
“I’m going to the liquor store,” Logan announces as he transfers Mary Puppins from his lap to Al’s before standing up from his position on the couch for the first time in hours. “You need anything?”
“Pick me up a couple of scratchers and a pack of Newports.”
Just her usual requests, then.
Logan throws on his leather jacket, dreading the cold and dreary February night but willing to face it for a bottle of bourbon and some cigars. He’s been out of those since yesterday, so a trip to the nearest convenience store is much needed, anyway.
The door to the apartment complex’s singular outdated elevator is sliding to a close when Logan hears a familiar, feminine voice call out.
“Hold up!”
Logan immediately pushes the hold button, freezing the door in place. A second later, you appear in the doorframe. You’re slightly out of breath, with a relieved expression on your face.
“Thanks,” you greet him as you lean against the wall of the elevator, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your plaid skirt. “I’m running late to my dinner reservations and really didn’t wanna have to take the stairs in these.” You glance down at the heels of the uncomfortable looking thigh high boots that you’re wearing.
Uncomfortable looking and hot, he thinks, before your words sink in. Dinner reservations – of course you’d have plans tonight. He feels a slight pang of disappointment (and jealousy, if he’s being honest with himself) at the realization, but he isn’t surprised.
“Well, let’s cross our fingers that we don’t get stuck in here again and that you make it to your date on time,” Logan says with a forced laugh and smile as he pushes the button once again to close the door, followed by the button that says lobby.
“Oh, no. Not a date,” you correct him quickly with a bashful grin. “Well, maybe. Is it considered a date if I’m dining by myself?”
“You’re going to dinner by yourself?” Logan asks, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. “Looking like that?”
Your eyes widen in shock. “What’s wrong with how I look? And what’s wrong with going to dinner by myself?”
“Nothing!” Logan begins to backtrack when he realizes how his questions came across. “You - you look great. I'm just a little surprised. Would’ve assumed that you had a date tonight is all—”
He trails off when he realizes that you’re pursing your lips together in an obvious attempt to hide a smirk. The mischievous glimmer in your eyes gives you away.
“I’m just fucking with you, Logan,” you snort with a playful slap to his arm. “I know it’s a little unconventional to take yourself out on Valentine’s Day. But I’ve always loved the holiday despite being painfully single, so I thought why not? Better than sitting at home and sulking all night.”
The corners of his lips threaten to twitch upwards at the words painfully single as he contemplates the rest of your response. He can’t help but admire your way of thinking. He was content with staying holed up inside the apartment and drinking himself into a stupor, but he can’t deny that your outlook on the holiday is far less depressing and boring than his.
“What about you?” you ask as the elevator comes to a stop with a melodic ding. You exit, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Are you on your way to your Valentine’s plans?”
He chuckles at the question. For a second, he considers lying to you. He considers telling you that yes, he is on his way to pick up his date right now, just so he doesn’t have to tell you the truth – that he’s on his way to buy bourbon, cancer sticks, and lottery tickets for him and his elderly roommate. But with his luck, you’d run into Wade tomorrow and he’d open his big fucking mouth about how Logan actually spent his night, and the thought of that is even more mortifying than telling you the truth to your face.
“Not unless you count making a liquor run as Valentine’s plans,” he sighs, averting your gaze as he opens the door to the apartment building for you. “The only thing I plan on doing tonight is listen to Althea scream at her game shows.”
You come to a stop outside of the apartment building, wrapping your coat tightly around your chest to fight off the chilly night air. There’s a peculiar look on your face that Logan can’t quite read – something between amusement and hesitation.
“You could have worse dates, I suppose,” you laugh.
“That’s true,” Logan agrees. “At least I have Vanessa to thank for a Wade free evening. But I’ll let you go, don’t wanna make you late for your—”
“Do you like Korean barbecue?”
Logan freezes, taken aback by the question. He snaps his mouth shut, realizing he’s staring at you like a deer in the headlights.
“Korean barbecue?” He asks lamely. “Don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”
He’s had barbecue. He’s had Korean food.. maybe? He’s been alive a really long time, he’s sure he’s had Korean food at some point in the last two hundred years.
But he can’t say that he’s had Korean barbecue.
A nervous looking grin appears on your face, and you cross your arms over your chest before taking a small step towards him.
“Are you hungry?”
••••••
All it takes is one look at the table that the host takes the two of you to for Logan to realize that he has indeed never had Korean barbecue.
You don’t appear to be the slightest bit confused so he assumes that the circular grill built into the middle of the table is normal, though he’s never seen anything quite like it in a restaurant before.
You giggle when you notice the curious expression on his face.
“It’s kinda like hibachi,” you begin. “Except instead of someone cooking it in front of you, you cook it yourself.”
Logan takes in the array of various meats on the tray to the left of him. You pick up a piece of what appears to be some kind of beef with a pair of tongs, and place it on the grill. It sizzles, and he watches as you add a few more pieces of meat onto the hot surface.
“Isn’t that kinda the whole point of going to a restaurant? To have someone else cook the food for you?” He asks the question as gently as he can, not wanting to hurt your feelings. He’s just happy to be here with you – even if he doesn’t fully understand the appeal of going to a restaurant to pay to cook your own food.
“It’s about the experience,” you explain with a shrug. “To be fair, when most people come to a Korean barbecue restaurant, they usually come with a group of people – hence the large amount of meat.” You nod towards the arrangement of the meats that have yet to be cooked.
“It’s a social thing. But all of my friends had plans with their significant others tonight, so…”
You trail off as the server places another tray on the table – this one covered in various colorful side dishes that he’s definitely never had before. He wouldn’t exactly describe himself as adventurous when it comes to trying new foods – for the most part, he lives off of ham and cheese sandwiches and frozen TV dinners. But he tried shawarma when he’d first arrived in this universe and ended up loving it, so he’s determined to try a bite of everything on this table.
“Sounds like it’s a good thing that you ran into me, then,” Logan murmurs when the server walks off.
You take your eyes off of the pieces of meat that you’re paying careful attention not to overcook, looking up at him through your lashes with a soft smile.
“I'd say that you’re right about that.”
••••••
Despite the breeze and the chilly night air, Logan feels perfectly toasty on the walk back to the apartment thanks to your tight hold on his arm and the wine that you had insisted that he try.
He'd learned a lot tonight – a lot about you; your hobbies and your interests. He’d learned all about Korean barbecue, and that he likes bulgogi and buldak.
Most importantly, he'd learned that he was stupid for ever being nervous about asking you out.
He feels at ease with you. He already knew he enjoys your company from all of the times that you’ve joined Wade’s movie nights and get-togethers – but he’d never been alone with you (with the exception of getting stuck in the elevator with you last week). Wade, Vanessa, Al, Peter, Yukio, and countless others always seemed to be present, making it near impossible for him to get to know you in the way that he’s wanted to since he first met you.
But now, with your arm intertwined with his and the scent of your perfume hitting him each time there is a gust of air, he knows that he is going to do all that he can to keep having moments like this with you.
“I have a question,” you state as the two of you turn onto the street where your apartment building is. Logan glances down at you in curiosity, but you’re not looking at him – you’re looking ahead, your teeth biting into your lower lip.
“What’s that?” Logan murmurs.
You hesitate, your eyes flickering up to him before quickly looking away again. “Did you actually like the kimchi?”
Logan can’t help but cackle, taken off guard by the question.
“That’s your question?” he laughs, thinking back to the spicy and tangy flavor of the fermented vegetables.
You come to a stop next to a streetlight outside of your apartment building, pulling your arm away from his to stand just inches in front of him.
“No,” you admit with a smirk. “Though I am curious about that, too.” You take a step closer to him, your chest ever so slightly brushing against his. He feels his breath catch in his throat at the way that your eyes twinkle in the glow of the streetlight.
“Last week, when we got stuck in the elevator together,” you begin in a low voice. He swears that your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second before meeting his gaze once more. “Were you nervous?”
He thinks back to his nervous rambling in the elevator, to how you looked so pretty that he found it difficult to hold direct eye contact with you, and to how it felt like half of his brain was screaming at him to ask you out and the other half was screaming at him to not make himself look like an idiot.
Yeah, nervous is accurate.
“That obvious, huh?” he sighs.
“Just a little,” you shrug. “But don’t worry. I was too.”
“Is that right?” Logan asks, trying not to give away just how happy the confession makes him. “And what about now?”
He doesn’t have to ask – he's standing close enough to you that your increased heartrate is easy for him to detect.
“Something like that,” you whisper, and before he fully process what’s happening, you’re raising up on your tippy toes to capture his lips in yours.
The taste of the fruity wine from dinner still lingers on your lips. He places his hands on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands cradle his face, pulling him down closer to you. The warmth of you is a balm against the brisk night air, making him feel like he can’t get close enough to you. You don’t pull away until you’re breathless, looking up at him with dilated pupils in the florescent street lighting.
“Do you wanna come up to my place?” you breathe, nodding your head in the direction of the apartment building.
“What? You don’t wanna come to mine and hang out with Al?” he teases, nudging you in the direction of the building’s entrance.
“As tempting as that sounds…” You trail off, following his lead.
The second that the elevator door comes to a close, his hands are back on you. He backs you up against the wall, his hands gripping your hips as you spread your legs enough to allow one of his thick thighs in between them. This time, he’s the one who kisses you, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between your lips. You whimper into the kiss, your tongue fighting his for dominance.
It isn’t until he pulls away for air and opens his eyes that he realizes the elevator has come to a stop. It couldn’t have been moving for more than ten seconds –
“Fuckin’ hell,” you groan. “Not this again.”
Logan looks at the panel of buttons to his left. Sure enough, the number reads that you’re still a floor beneath your apartments. He beats his fist against the elevator wall, as if that’s actually going to help the matter.
Still pinned between his body and the wall, you pull your cell phone out from an interior pocket of your coat. You quickly find the number for building maintenance in your call history, but it just rings, and rings, and rings.
“I could probably pry the doors open,” Logan muses as he begins to pull away from you. He thinks back to how it took maintenance nearly an hour to get the elevator back up and running last week, and knows that he wouldn’t have the patience for that now. The thought of having to wait even a fraction of that long to get back to your apartment…
“Let’s not do anything that could potentially put the elevator out of commission permanently, yeah?” You pull him back to you, grabbing his face in your hand and making him look at you. “I think that we'll be just fine right here for a while.”
There’s a mischievous look on your face. Before he can question you, you’re sliding down the wall until you reach the floor. You reach for his belt with your hands, making quick work of undoing the buckle and then the button to his jeans.
Oh.
All Logan can do is stare down at you in wonderment as you tug his zipper down.
“This okay with you?” you ask, but the look on your face says that you already know the answer.
He nods, his mouth suddenly feeling too dry to speak. He helps you shimmy his boxers and jeans down enough for his cock to spring free. He glances around the elevator, double checking that there aren’t any security cameras. Considering this elevator is ancient and doesn’t even function half the time, he isn’t surprised to see that there aren’t any.
You take the base of him in your hand, languidly massaging the length as you tease his slit with your tongue. You lap up the beads of pre-cum before easing him past your lips.
The sight of you on your knees for him is enough to have him twitching in your mouth. Add in how your soft lips and tongue feel working his length, and he knows he won’t last long like this.
You bob your head around him, gagging when his head juts against the back of your throat. You pull off of him, leaving a thick rope of saliva that trails from his cock to your mouth.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything prettier. He could spend hours looking at you like this.
But this isn’t how he wants to finish – in your mouth, before he’s even had a chance to make you feel good. So as much as it nearly kills him to do it, he pulls himself away from your sweet lips and yanks you back up by the tops of your arms. There’s the slightest hint of disappointment on your face, but it quickly disappears when he pushes your coat off of your shoulders and down your arms. It falls to floor, leaving you in still too many articles of clothing for Logan’s liking.
Later, he tells himself. He’ll get you naked later, in the privacy of your apartment, where there’s no risk of the elevator doors sliding open at any given moment.
For now, he settles for pushing the restrictive fabric of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist. He sinks to the ground in front of you, splaying his palms on your inner thighs and spreading your legs open for him. He rubs the pad of his thumb over the soft material of your panties, right over your clit. He feels shudder at the sensation, and notices the goosebumps that appear on the skin of your thighs.
He hooks his index finger through the cotton fabric, pulling it to the side. He looks up to see if there’s any kind of hesitation on your face, but you quickly pull him to your center by the back of his head, erasing any doubt. He chuckles lowly, and flattens his tongue over your slit.
Your cunt tastes as sweet as the fruity wine from the restaurant did on your tongue. He eats you like he wants to get drunk off of you, alternating between soft licks through your folds and fervent kisses to your swollen bud.
He feels your legs quiver around the sides of his head. He supports you from below, letting you go all but limp above him. He glances up at you, your head thrown back in pleasure and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.
His name slips through your lips, your voice strained with desperation. He loves the sound of it, and wants more than anything to hear you keep saying it. He snakes one of his hands between your thighs, and teases your hole with the tip 9t his finger. You involuntarily sink down, nudging the tip of it past your entrance.
He groans against your clit at how fucking tight you feel around his finger. God, he can’t wait to be inside you. He pumps the digit, your walls already clenching around him.
“Logan,” you moan from above him. “I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he hums against your clit. “Let go. I got you.”
Your climax washes over you with a sharp cry of his name and Logan mentally prays that the elevator walls aren’t as thin as the apartment walls.
When you go still above him, he reluctantly takes his mouth off of you and stands up. His jeans and boxers are still bunched just above his knees, his erection painfully hard and his balls full. He wipes the excess of your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, and then begins to stroke his own length in his fist.
“Do you.. wanna wait until we get back to your..?”
“God, no,” you exhale, and pull him to you by grabbing his flannel in your fists.
His lips crash against yours as he nestles himself in between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. He coats it in your juices and eases into you slowly. You groan into his mouth and he has to try not to cum on the spot.
You’re tight, and warm, and your walls flutter around him just right. He hikes one of your thighs over his hip, deepening the angle before he pulls almost all the way out. He rocks back into you, working up to a steady pace.
The small, confined space is filled with the sound of your body meeting his and the sweet noises you make that are music to his ears. You grip around him like a velvet vice and he knows that he isn't going to last long.
“Gonna cum, honey,” he warns in a grunt next to your ear. “Ya feel too fuckin’ good.”
He feels your walls pulse around him at his words and he can tell that you're just as close as he is. A few more deep thrusts that hit your cervix just right and he’s spilling into you as you cum around him.
When he’s empty, his movements cease but he doesn’t pull out. He nuzzles his face against your throat, pressing kisses to the soft but sweat-slicked skin.
“Happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you murmur in a borderline delirious voice. He laughs, pulling back just enough to press his lips to yours.
“Mind if I still come back to your place? I know we just…” He trails off, glancing down at where he’s still tucked inside you. “But I just realized I forgot to pick up cigarettes for Al and she isn’t gonna be too happy with me.”
You roll your eyes, and playfully push him away from you so that you can tug your skirt back into place.
“I think I can find a way to be okay with that,” you smirk. “If we ever get out of this fuckin’ elevator.”
not my favorite thing i've ever written by any means, i've been feeling really unmotivated to write and have felt kinda burnt out, but i still wanted to get this out before valentine's day bc if i didn't then i never would have finished it at all, lol. so i'm sorry it's short 😭 hope you still enjoyed
reblogs/comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading!
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HI SO LIKE CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE A SMUT OF NAMGYU🙏🙏 like hes your deadbeat baby daddy boyfriend who just stays out and away doing drugs and drinking and comes home at ungodly hours while youre taking care of the baby and one night he notices the little weight you put on after giving birth and how it made your breasts swell and got curvier and shit, n like yall are arguing because he came home really late and youre sick of his shit and its kinda a hate/angry fuck kinda thing?? THANK YOU I LOBE UR FICS
Reckless Temptation
I’m so sorry this took so long!! This was such a fun ask! Admittedly, I’m not the best with topics that involve angst (I love when the reader gets a happy ending and I’m such a ween when it comes to angst endings) so i struggled a bit…BUT I tried my best!!!! It was such a fun challenge for me, I really hope you like it 😩🫶
Warnings: smut (18+) , toxic themes (nothin crazy, he just a bum babydaddy) , toxic relationship , relationship issues , drug / alcohol mention , oral (f receiving) , p in v sex , choking, dirty talk , hate fucking (relatively tame) , rough sex , nam-gyu is a warning himself in this one , creampie , breeding kink , read at your own risk
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d728d342a80036ac88d67ecf98ddc566/0873d4bbfc975d0a-c3/s540x810/eed6b3a0dc0f47368023cf061ddfbae0fa81b91e.jpg)
You don’t know why you stayed or why you continued to let him fuck you over.
Well… you did know…
Every time you looked at the infant in your arms, the one that has her dad’s smile and eyes, you literally couldn’t bring yourself to leave.
You swear sometimes when she laughs, it sounds like his laugh and you want to call him over and show him how precious the sight is- but he’s hardly ever there. He’s never in your shared apartment. He’s never there to help out with your child.
He’s always late coming home- sure you know the club promoting gig he’s got has weird hours but even on the days you know he’s off, he’s not retuning until 3am. He’s also always high, on what, you could never figure it out it changes week by week it seemed. Sometimes he’d smell like a walking ounce of weed when he’s stumbling through the door, other nights his pupils are just blown and he’s jittery.
Admittedly, neither of you planned to have a child. It was a surprise that had you floored. Nam-gyu was the last person you ever thought of who would be a parent, and when it happened, you were sure he was going to leave you when you told him the news. But he didn’t. That had to mean something.
You took care of your daughter, only you. He would show up whenever he pleased to your shared apartment- even though he hardly ever stayed the night he was still on the lease- to drop off his share of rent money (it was never enough), grocery money (maybe $10 if you were lucky), or the occasional thing you had to beg him to pick up the store. He would bitch and complain about how you always bothered him at the worst times, how he has to do everything for you; That’s hardly the case, but he likes to tell you it is.
To say the least, he was garbage, a deadbeat, no good for you. But, there was some days when you would come out of the shower and see him looking over the crib cooing at your daughter- playing with her with a goofy smile on his face. Those moments make all the bad times fade to the background.
Only to be pulled back to the foreground when he stands quickly, stepping away from the crib. He grabs his jacket, turns around, and walks out the bedroom door- shoulder brushing against yours as he pushes past you- muttering a “don’t wait up tonight”.
You know the drill you never do.
Tonight was no different, you had stayed up late dealing with the baby. She was about 4 months at this point so you got into a decent routine even if it did nothing for your sleep schedule. You say sprawled out on the couch, legs up on the cushion and your baby in your arms. Your shirt was up over your shoulder, your baby drinking away happily at the milk that your breast gave. You couldn’t help the way your head nodded every so often as your eyes fought to stay open. At least she wasn’t crying, you thought. You looked down at her with a soft smile, fingers brushing over her cheek gently.
The sound of a car pulling into your driveway makes your head snap up. You rubbed your tired eyes with one hand, groaning, you knew that sound and that meant he was home. Looking to the clock on the TV stand, it blares a vibrant red hue that makes your eyes strain to see the time. 2:57 am.
You groan to yourself, preparing for the drugged out man that was about to stumble through the door. And when he does he’s wearing the usual pissed off scowl he has- like coming home to you and your child was the bane of his existence. You’ve had enough.
He was going to open his mouth to spew some bullshit excuse for being home late, one he’s used thousands of times before, but you stop him by raising your hand. You’re clenching your jaw, eyes wide and threatening as you hiss out a low “Don’t even fucking start.” You adjust the infant in your arms who was starting to slow down on breastfeeding and begin to grow tired.
Nam-gyu scoffs, his scowl deepening, his mouth flops open once again to speak. You cut him off once more- sitting up off the couch and returning his glare with one of your own. “I said…” You seethed through clenched teeth, “Don’t fucking start.” You growl lowly, taking a step towards him, infant still latched onto one of your breasts. “She’s about to fall asleep. I will put her to bed. And then, only fucking then, can you grace me with whatever lousy excuse you have tonight..”
Your tone is one that throws him off, sure he knew he was not a great boyfriend or father, you had every right to be pissed. Normally, you weren’t this confrontational- normally you would sit there sulking when he would come in the door, an adorable pout on your face that he knew wasn’t a cute expression but one of genuine upset and disappointment. He would brush you off telling you he was hungry and wanted you to cook him something.
You finish getting off the couch, it’s an awkward movement as you’re trying not to jostle the baby that had fallen asleep in your arms. Nam-gyu watches, the room is spinning and he’s trying to act like he’s sober because he doesn’t want to get into that argument again tonight- he is far too blitzed to have a coherent argument where he can manipulate it in his favor.
He watches intently, his eyes tracing over your body. You were wearing a large t-shirt and some shorts, nothing new there….but you were fuller. He felt his mouth go dry as you turn and walk down the hallway to the nursery. Your hips were wider and he swore your ass was bigger. The soft, plush flesh of your hips dug into the waistband of the shorts you wore, some of the flesh above the waist band spilling over the slightest bit- perfect to dig his hands into.
You turn into the room, disappearing, presumably putting the baby down in the crib. When you’re no longer in his sight, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s been a long while since you two had been intimate, the already rough relationship was not helped by a newborn, and he was pent up. As shitty as he was, not helping with the baby, not being home, partying and doing drugs- he never cheated. He can’t remember the last time you two had fucked, probably when he got you pregnant, but fuck- seeing your curves, how much fuller you were- he realized how much he missed it. How much he missed fucking you.
You return out the room you put your daughter in, thankful she was a decent sleeper because she was sleeping perfectly in the nursery as soon as you placed her down. He catches you fixing your shirt, getting a glimpse of your tits before the fabric falls back over the swollen flesh. You return back in front of him, standing in the entryway where he was still frozen. “It is two…no, three in the fucking morning.” You hiss out in a hushed voice.
“I got caught up at work.” He scoffs trying to walk past you and head to your shared bedroom. “Bullshit!” You laugh sardonically, “You were out partying with Thanos again weren’t you??” You accuse, taking a step closer to him.
You were partially right, he was out partying- but he was also working. With Thanos rap career taking off and Thanos needing VIP privileges at Club Pentagon, if he was there he was getting paid extra. Sure he did more than his fair share of drugs and came home plastered hours after he stopped working and getting paid- but he was still making money! “I was with Thanos but I wasn’t partying. I get paid double when he’s booked.” Nam-gyu growls lowly, lying through his teeth.
“Fucking hell!” You catch yourself raising your voice and quickly lower it to not wake your baby. “..do you think I’m fucking stupid?!” You’re seething out in a tone laced with venom. “You were fumbling with the damn keys, your words are slurred and your fucking pupils are blown!!” You gawk, he really had the audacity to try you?!
He seemed taken aback, surprised you could even see his eyes and how his pupils were dilated heavily in the low light of the living room. He had to remind himself, you were once like him, partying and down for whatever- that’s how you two met, he did coke off your thighs- you could tell the signs a mile away.
He envied you for that, quitting all the drugs you once did with him a year or so before you even got pregnant. You were stronger than him in that sense, had more willpower than him. You never got sucked back into the scene, even when your child was born you kept stead fast in your ways and weren’t tempted. It was like you thought you were better than him, and you were, but that just pissed him off more.
“God forbid I try and have some fun.” He says as he glares down at you. You go to speak, fuming at this point, “That’s not what-“ you almost want to scream, your words cut off when you see him roll his eyes, “roll your fucking eyes at me again and I will rip them out of your fucking skull.”
Your voice drops, you’re speaking through your teeth and getting up in his face. It would be threatening, he knows you would be the one to do it- but all he can think about is how thick your thighs look against the shorts you wore. He remembers those shorts, they used to fit looser, but now they dig into the plush flesh so deliciously has his mind is going blank. But the way you’re in his face- scolding him like some child, finger waving inches from his nose- is pissing him the fuck off.
His hand darts up in a quick motion that you have no way of intercepting. His hand wraps around your wrist, ringed fingers digging into your skin. “All you do is fucking run your mouth.” Nam-Gyu growls, he knows you have every right to yell at him, to be pissed, but he wouldn’t tell you that. Your eyebrows furrow, even more than they already were. Jaw clenched and chest heaving, you’re staring up at him oh so defiantly even if he was much larger than you.
“And all you know how to do is be a fucking deadbeat.” You counter, getting closer to his face by standing on your tippy toes. “You get to go out and party, probably rail some whores, while I have to stay here with your child and take care of her by myself.” You add. It’s an abrupt shift, he becomes even angrier, pulling you forward into him by your wrist he still holds.
To say he’s enraged would put it lightly- was he a deadbeat? Yes. But, he still tries to give you what he can, club pentagon only paid so much and he had a drug habit he didn’t care to address. Did he stay out and party and leave you at home to take care of the baby? Absolutely, he can’t argue with you on that one. But he never cheated. As fucked up as he was, as shitty as a father and boyfriend he was- one thing he would never do was cheat on you. To him that’s a type of low he always told himself he would never reach.
You fall into him, a gasp coming out of your lips when you meet his chest. When he feels your tits press against him, the enlarged flesh squishing against him- you watch as his eyes flutter shut, he bites his lip and breathes out a large breath, like he’s trying to ground himself.
He is.
He drops your wrist from his grip, hands coming to rest on your hips in a vice like grasp, caging you into him. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He seethes, eyes fluttering back open to glare down at you. “Say whatever the fuck else you want…I have never cheated.” He growls lowly, fingers tightening even harder around your plush hips. He wanted to continue to be mad at you, but the way his finger sunk into your flesh made the blood rush to his cock.
“You’re out late all the time and I can’t even remember the last time you touched me…” You say lowly, all your senses focus on the hold he has on your hips. His hands are cold, the rings on his fingers dig into the flesh and bite at your skin. He’s holding you in place like he’s sure you’re going to run away. “So excuse me for thinking you’re cheating. You also dont exactly hang around the best crowd.” You reason even further, now trying to fight against him and pull away.
He grimaces, he doesn’t even know how it’s possible that you manage to piss him off even further than normal. “You have my location. I’m always at work.” He scoffs dismissively. He wasn’t wrong but when he’s at work, he’s hardly working- he’s taking drugs, drinking, and doing god knows what else- you’ve seen the pictures he’s in the background posted on Thanos timeline.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” You seethe, trying to yank your hand out of his grasp yet again. It’s a futile attempt. “Okay! So you’re at work!? Where’s the fucking rent, huh?!” You say, voice raising, he’s a day late. He looks at you like you’re crazy and reaches into his back pocket and tosses a wad of cash over onto the coffee table- all while keeping you trapped in his grip. “Still late-“ your works are instantly cut off, “Wrong.” He mocks, reaching back into his pants pocket to pull out his phone and show you the date on his phone.
He was right. But it wasn’t your fault, your days had mixed together because you get no sleep with the baby and your child’s father comes home at 3am every day! God forbid you mix up your days. He also was no stranger to paying you late. You normally wouldn’t care about the mix up, maybe even own up to it- but today it just adds validity to his manipulative argument. “You’re still home at 3 in the fucking morning, you reek of booze and your pupils are blown!” You growl, not even caring that the day was wrong. You simply don’t care anymore. “And you’re doing all of this while I’m home taking care of our child!”
You’re leaning into him, getting up in his face with knitted eyebrows and barred teeth. He’s far too fucked up to deal with this, with you- because he knows you’re right. He never wants to face his issues, he never has wanted to, and every day you attempt to make him confront how shitty he was little by little, most of the times without even knowing it. You had always been too good for him, he knew that. He was lucky that you stayed and gave him a thousand chances instead of walking out on him. Maybe tomorrow he would address it and make a change for once in his life. But, right now, his head is pounding, the room is spinning and your hissing growl of a tone is only making his headache worsen.
His grip on your hips tightens, and he lowers his face so very closer to yours. His eyes are dark, angry, but there’s an odd glint of hunger in them that you haven’t seen in ages, it makes your body heat up in ways that due to not having felt it in so long, if now feels foreign. “You seriously don’t know when to stop fucking talking.” He growls lowly, like an animal about to feast on its caught prey. When he speaks his lips nearly brush against yours, the feather light contact tickles and sends electricity straight to your lower stomach. His voice has a hiss to it, like a viper, it should scare you but it doesn’t; it makes you hotter.
You two stand like that for a moment, the only sound you could hear was the sounds of your breath mixing with his. Every time the both of you heaved an angry breath, the hot air would mix between the two of you. Neither of you broke the other’s gaze, trying to win the silent stare off that started.
Nam-gyu breaks first, his eyes dropping to your chest, watching the rise and fall of your enlarged breasts from under the shirt- his resolve is out the window. He’s on your lips in an instant. You’re letting out a muffled sound of protest into his mouth, fighting against him and trying to pull away. But with the grip he still has on your wrist and the frantic movement of his lips keeps you still. You find yourself melting into it- you missed his kisses. Missed him.
As much as you want to pull back and continue to fight with him-you can’t. You relax into him, lips moving with his- almost rivaling his eagerness. When he feels you give in, his hands drop to your waist, nails biting into your plush flesh over the fabric of your shirt. You’re panting helplessly into his mouth, so desperate for the attention you’ve been deprived of for months. He’s pushing you backwards, guiding you further into the living room.
In a mess of lips and spit, you’re falling back first onto the couch and he’s following you, coming to straddle your thighs- hovering over you. His hands are back on you in an instant, running up your thighs and squeezing. His lips are back on yours, it’s a messy kiss that reminds you of how you two were when you first met. It’s sloppy, full of spit, and oh so Devine. You’re arching up into his touch, his cold hands running up your sides and then back down to your shorts. He wastes no time in gripping the waistband and tugging the fabric down your hips.
He’s pulling your shorts off you hastily and you help kick them off, whining into the kiss. Your lips don’t part once, he’s sucking your tongue into his mouth expertly, he knows exactly what to do to get your mind to go blank. He’s rough, hands gripping and kneading at your flesh like he can’t get enough.
He pulls away from the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. He wastes no time in pulling the fabric over your head and tossing it to an unknown corner of the living room. When the cool air hits your bare skin you’re overtly aware of your bare form. You two haven’t been intimate since you got pregnant. Your body has changed in ways that admittedly you weren’t fond of. A wave of self conscious that rolls through you when you see Nam-Gyu above you, eyes flitting down your naked from like he’s trying to memorize you.
It makes you want to cover yourself- so you do. Your arms fall over yourself to cover your breasts and stomach, shielding yourself from his gaze. His brows furrow and a growl resounds from his throat. You cant even fight him when he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms away from your body, pinning them to the couch. “Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” His voice is low, almost threatening, and does nothing to help the wetness that grows between your legs.
“Yeah…that’s it, ma.” He rasps, nodding his head slowly, eyes trained on your body. His hands let go of your wrists, you know better than to move your arms back over your body- he would get up and leave you hot and bothered if you disobeyed- he lets out an accepting hum when you keep your arms by your sides.
“Mmm…beautiful fuckin tits…” he coos in a low, gravely tone, his hands reaching up to grasp at the doughy mounds of flesh. He’s kneading your breasts, you can feel the way his cock is straining against his pants, twitching and growing against your thigh with each movement of his hands. “So swollen now, huh?” He says as he leans down, his mouth latching onto one of your nipples.
You’re so sensitive, it’s almost like an electric jolt that runs up your spine. He hums into your skin when he feels your body shake against him. The breast that isn’t being attacked by his mouth is being kneaded in his hand. He’s pinching your nipple, rolling it between his fingers to bring the bud to a stiff peak. You’re helpless underneath him and his mouth is relentless. He can’t get enough of your enlarged tits, he’s switching his mouth to the breast that once was in his hand- wanting to give the same amount of attention to both of the picturesque tits before him.
He pulls off your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’, the sound only adding to the overwhelming feeling you’re experiencing. All this attention after going months without it, it felt surreal. You knew you should push him off and scold him, kick him out, but it feels so good- you just can’t bring yourself to push him away- it feels too fucking good.
“Mmm,” he hums against your skin, you can feel him begin to grind the forming erection in his pants into your leg as he continues his relentless onslaught of bites and kisses, leaving blue and purple patches that blossom across your skin in his wake. His hands are moving across your body, groping at the doughy flesh like a cat kneading a fluffy pillow. “Gotten so curvy, pretty thing….” He mumbles, biting down particularly hard right under your breast. “Such a good mama…” his lips tickle your skin when he speaks.
You can hear how his words are slurred, his hands are jittery, he’s definitely on something and you know you should stop this and not let him swoon you like every other time he’s stumbled in the door fucked up late at night. He’s doing this to soothe your anger, to get you off his case. At least that’s what you thought.
That wasn’t his motive, although that reasoning could apply- he was really doing it to get your guard to lower. You accused him of cheating, scolded him like a child in his own home, you were gonna feel his anger. And he was strategic, manipulative even, you should be aware of it you’ve been with him long enough…but for some reason you’re not. He looks down at you and he sees you softened, you’re panting under him, pupils dilated like his now, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like you’re trying to ground yourself.
He makes an insanely quick, rough, combination of movements- shifting one of his legs between your legs, pressing up into your cunt, and one of his hands darts down to grip your neck right under your chin, awkwardly forcing your face upwards to meet his gaze more directly. “….but you don’t know when to shut the fuck up.” He has a sadistic, mocking grin twisted across his lips.
You let out a pathetic, surprised squeak that falls into a moan. The rough fabric of his pants pressing into your throbbing pussy has your eyes crossing and fluttering shut. You reach a hand up to grip at his wrist, opening your eyes to glare up at him with some measly attempt of a scowl, trying not to let him win so easily, trying to not give him the satisfaction of your docility.
“Yeahhh…” he mocks, a wide grin on his face, his hand that grips your neck and jaw wiggles your head around to further his mocking, like he’s rubbing something in, “keep that smartass scowl on your face. So fuckin’ sexy when you’re angry.” He hisses, his free hand comes down and roughly slaps your breast, his eyes watch the flesh recoil and ripple under the impact, and when you arch into the touch and let out a pretty whimper his hand is groping at the plump flesh harshly. Of course your defiant scowl has faltered.
He lets out a low laugh and trails his hand down your stomach, his grip on your neck tightening ever so slightly, “see…can’t even keep it up…ya ain’t mad…” he coos in an annoying, sardonic tone. His hand releases your breast and runs down your stomach, nails dragging into your skin just the slightest bit. His hand grips at the flesh of your stomach- like he’s admiring it, basking in the feeling of your softness in his hand. “No~ you’re not mad…” he continues, hand running over your pubic bone, thumb catching the top of your pussy, just above your clit- pulling up the slightest bit.
His view of your cunt is shrouded by your thighs clenching around his leg that is between them. You’re heaving against his touch squirming your hips into his hand, silently begging for more. “Not mad at all…just needy. Need me to play with your pussy, hm?” He says in a low growl, his thumb inching the slightest bit closer to your clit- still not where you needed it most. You’re ashamed of the little resolve you have left, you’re still trying to twist your face into an angry scowl while writhing under his hand. It’s like your hips have a mind of their own, desperately rolling into his touch even though the rest of your body is telling you to stop this and have some resilience to his ways….but you simply can’t stop.
“You’re acting all mad like ya hate me…...” He says, leaning down closer to you, his hand that was still pinning you to the couch by your neck squeezing more. He shifts his knee, pressing it deeper into your cunt. You let out a wanton sigh in response, your eyes screwing shut as your hips grind mindlessly into his leg. His other hand moves off your pubic bone and runs up your leg. When he gets to your knee he’s shoving your legs apart and parting your other leg open with his knee that was grinding up into your cunt.
It’s such a fast motion that you have no option to fight him. Your glistening pussy is now on full display for him to see. It’s shameful, your folds stick together with your own syrupy arousal, thick streams of wetness seep out of your entrance and begin to drip on the leather couch under you. Nam-gyu’s eyes are captivated by your cunt, he’s biting his lip and breathing heavy like a lion about to eat a bountiful feast of meat- animalistic, primal. “Ohoo~” he says with a mocking tilt of his head, “yeah, you can act mad all you want…but, she’s not mad at me.” He says, his fingers sliding inwards and down your spread leg, pulling your folds to the side to see you fully.
“Ohhhhh….” He drawls out, licking his lips at the sight. His hand on your neck loosens its grip and trails down your body to mirror his other hand, spreading you completely. You’re on full display, there’s no hiding the effect he had on you, there’s no denying that your anger has long since been overrun by lust and need, and he’s staring so hard- it’s so embarrassing. He can see how your cunt clenches around nothing, quivering as if to further show your bashfulness. “Already fucking soaked, what a slut. Barely even have to touch you and your needy pussy’s already crying f’me.”
Your eyebrows turn upwards, you’re biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep your noises suppressed. With your lips pulled apart by his thumbs, your puffy clit is on full display. Nam-gyu is cursing to himself, pulling away one hand to hastily undo the button of his pants and unzip the zipper. He’s pushing his boxers and his pants down his thigh to free his aching cock from its confines. He’s thick, veiny, and has a mean upward curve that no matter how hard you try, you can never forget how good it makes your pussy feel.
He pumps his dick a few times, groaning at the sensation. He stops to return his hand back to your inner thigh, thumb brushing up and down in quick motions over your clit. Your hips are immediately canting upwards off the couch, a gasp is pulled from your throat and your nails bite into the couch- threatening to tear the fabric. He would normally bask in that reaction, relish in it, thumb your clit over and over until you’re singing like a song bird for him. But, that was normally; it wasn’t now.
“You better keep your hips still, brat. This isn’t a reward for you.” He barks, looking up at you with dark, narrowed eyes. “I’m jus’ takin whats mine, ‘s not for you.” He scolds, you know he’s still set on punishing you. And for some reason, you let him. You’re looking down at him desperately and panting, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as you try so hard to keep your hips still so you can get the attention you so desperately need. It’s a downright sinful, completely and utterly desperate expression, your flushed cheeks just the most perfect accessory.
His scowl turns into a wicked grin when he sees the last bit of resilience you have crumble completely and you turn into a pathetic heap on the couch. “Mhmm…” he nods slowly, “S’ what I thought. Just a lil needy thing ain’t ya?” You whine at his words. He’s speaking in a mean, sardonic tone that makes your mine spin. You don’t even think about it, but you find yourself nodding, letting out a muffled ‘mhm’ in hopes of getting on his good side.
He seems to accept your meek response because he’s settling down onto the couch, lowering his face until it’s level with your cunt. You’re gripping the couch and biting your lip until it’s bleeding, trying to keep your hips still. His breath fans over your folds causing a soft mewl to fall from your lips. Your head falls back onto the armrest of the couch as he licks a wide strip up the entirety of your cunt.
He’s groaning into your pussy when he gets his first taste of you. It’s been too long since he’s been buried tongue deep in your sweet cunt, he doesn’t know how he’s gone without it for so long. He doesn’t ease you into it, he doesn’t slowly coax soft whines from your throat- no, he’s delving in and eating you like a man starved. His tongue is vicious, licking through your folds, teasing your entrance, only to trace back up and twirl in mind-numbing figure eights against your clit.
“O-oh my god…” you breathlessly moan, thighs closing around his head. His eyes roll back and flutter closed when he feels the soft, thick flesh of your thighs tighten against his head. He wraps his arms around your thighs, dragging you up and down his flat tongue, slurping down every drop of arousal that seeps from your pussy. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. The sensation makes you jump and moan out a broken call of his name, your hips grinding down on his tongue in a pathetic attempt to seek even more pleasure.
When he feels your hips cant upwards, chasing his tongue he’s growling into your pussy. Hands splaying across your lower stomach to push your hips down- a warning. “Keep fuckin’ still.” He hisses, his words vibrating against your clit. Nam-gyu makes a show of eating your cunt. He’s messy, making obscene slurping sounds as he coaxes more and more sticky arousal from your spasming walls. This wasn’t for you, this was for him. He was going to enjoy the heavenly flavor of your cunt his way. You want to grind against his tongue, become impossibly closer to him and sink his tongue deep within your walls- you know if you do, you’ll be going against his orders. He’s deliberately making this a challenge for you. He wants you to disobey him. Wants you to give him even more of a reason to fuck you into complete submission.
When you feel his tongue begin to prod its way into your entrance, you’re keening and bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. You muffle your wrecked moans as he tongue fucks you. It’s such a devine feeling for him, your cunt clenching around his tongue, the flavor of you covering his tastebuds, thick thighs clenching around his head, pussy wetting his chin, and nose breathing in your scent as he grinds it into your clit. All of it reminds him of why even after all the horrible shit he’s put you through, he’s never cheated and he always returns home to you. He wants to savor it, draw it out. Maybe you’ve learned your lesson and he can be nice- give you both what you want.
But he can’t, because you’re sobbing out muffled pleas from behind the hand that covers your mouth and jerking your hips up, swiveling them down on his tongue to try and drive him even deeper into your walls. You don’t even mean to do it but when you realize you were going against his orders it’s too late.
His dark eyes peer up at you through thick lashes, you can feel the sadistic grin that twists across his lips against your sopping folds, you know you fucked up. You pull your hand away from your mouth, “N-no, no, ‘m s-sorry. Can’t help it! Y-you’re not making it easy!” You’re pleading with him as he’s pulling away from your cunt. “P-please! I n-need it.” You try to beg more, trying to get back on his good side and get his tongue back against your clit but he doesn’t accept your offer
Nam-Gyu sits back up on his knees, his hands moving up to your waist and squeezing, “I gave you more than enough chances…” he coos, eerily sweet, “was eating your sweet cunt good, wasn’t I?” He scoffs with a raise of his eyebrow. You nod frantically, your hands reaching down to cover his, running up his arms, trying to sweeten him up, “Mhm! S-so good! ‘S why I couldn’t keep still!” You praise, batting your eyelashes up at him.
You think for a split second that you managed to win him back over, a relief washes over you when you think you’re going to be granted the salvation of his tongue on your throbbing pussy once again. But his grin widens and his hand slide down, grasping at your hips with a primal grip.
“Well, since you want to act like a bitch in heat…” he says, the low timbre of his voice sends shivers violently jolting through your whole body. You’re suddenly picked up off the couch by your hips and flipped over. You inwardly scold yourself at how you almost instantly fall into a position on all fours with your back deeply arched. You hear him scoff at your eagerness, “…then you’re gonna be fucked like a bitch in heat.”
When his sentence finishes you can feel him drag the bulbous tip of his cock between your folds, mixing your arousal and his pre-cum into a stick mess that coats your pussy. You let out a shaky breath, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Pushing your hips back, you whine, trying to sink him into your heat. But you weren’t the one in charge here…he was.
He was going to make sure you felt every, single inch of his cock sink into your tight cunt. And he was going to savor you desperately trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock like you have no other thought on your mind other than to be fucked.
“Already makin’ such a mess on my cock. You were so mouthy earlier…” he begins to slowly sink into your cunt only to pull all the way back, “…so bold, all up in my face…” he pushes back in to the tight ring of your pussy ever so slightly, “…so feisty.” And with that, his cockhead finally slips into your cunt. It makes a sickening, wet sucking sound as your pussy greedily sucks him in. “Now look at you.”
A moan is ripped from your throat, the extensive period of time that you have gone without fucked and the devilishly slow entrance of just his tip into your sopping walls already has your toes curling. A moan is ripped from your lips as you drop your chest fully onto the couch, your back arched sinfully deep for him, pressing him deeper into you.
“‘S just the tip and you’re already creamin’ around me like a slut…” He muses, leaning forward a bit to grab both of your arms and cross them behind your back. Both your wrists are restrained by one of his hands. You gasp as your pulled upwards, your face pulled off the leather of the couch. “Heh…. I’m gonna break ya sweetheart…”
His hips become flush with yours in a split second, his cock is balls deep within your cunt. The sudden intrusion has you letting out a silent sob. Instantly, you’re so very full. Nam-gyu is stretching you around him, molding your pussy to the shape of him, removing the thought of leaving him from your mind completely. How could you when he filled you up oh so perfectly.
He stays balls deep inside you for a moment, bringing his hips to a slow grind. “Yeahhh….that’s it… ya feel how deep I am?” He asks, his voice rough and breathy, “Only I can give this pussy what she needs…” he growls, pulling his cock all the way out and then immediately slamming right back in. You’re crying out, eyes crossing and your vision goes hazy. “I’m the only one who can cum in your greedy cunt….” He says, repeating the same motion. When he’s back to being balls deep inside you, he’s leaving over your back and bringing his lips ring next to your ear, “you carried my child.”
He’s emphasizing the word “my” by rolling his hips against your ass, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix. You hated it, but he was right, the moment you carried and gave birth to his child- you were his. From the moment you two met- you were his.
You’re moaning helplessly, gasping an incoherent mix of his name and curses, you’re becoming boneless in his grasp. It feels so fucking good. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s sitting back up and pumping his cock in and out of your tight cunt. The thrusts are vicious, mean even, his thick girth is stretching you impossibly wide and your pussy welcomes him openly, greedily sucking him in.
“Mhm…there you go…she missed me didn’t she?” Nam-gyu rasps, using his grip on your wrists to drag you back to meet every single one of his hard thrusts. His eyes are focused downwards, he’s entranced by the ripple of your ass everytime it comes back to meet his hips. You’re much thicker, curvier, softer than before. Pregnancy had changed your body in ways that sparked a primal hunger inside of him.
You helplessly sob out, the overwhelming pleasure completely taking over your body. Your hips are pushing back to meet his thrusts, trying to sink his cock impossibly deeper into your tight heat. He laughs from above you, realizing your desperation for more. “Greedy fuckin’ thing…” he growls, it’s a dark, gravely tone that sends goosebumps down your arms, “what, ‘s not enough for you?” He chides like you’re giving him a challenge, you can hear the sadistic grin that is spread across his lips.
You’re gasping, shaking your head frantically “n-no ‘s e-enough! ‘S so good!” You try to plead with him by praising his efforts, fearing the impending overstimulation that is about to be thrown on you. He’s drawing his hips back until just the tip of his cock is inside you, he’s humming like he’s thinking to himself. “Hmm…” he lets out, just trusting his cockhead inside your sopping pussy, “you can still talk…so I don’t think it’s enough.” You can hear the mocking pout in his voice, teasing you further.
Nam-gyu lets go of your wrists he was holding behind your back, hands finding their spot on your hips, squeezing the doughy flush in his fists. He’s pile driving his hips flush against your ass in one thrust, sinking balls deep into your gushing cunt. Instantly, he’s stretching you deliciously, pushing into your spasming walls until the tip of his cock is flush against your cervix. A wrecked sob rips through your throat and you’re falling forward onto the leather couch.
He leaves you no time to gather yourself, his hips draw back until just the tip is inside you and then thrusting balls deep inside your warm cunt in rapid, devious strokes. As much as you wish it wasn’t true, he knows your body like the back of his own hand, he knows every little thing that makes you tick, he knows just how to make you cream around his cock- and he wants to make you a mess. He’s driving his thrust upwards at a mean angle, making sure every thrust is hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. All you can do is moan out pathetic babbles of his name and praises.
“Yeahhhh, that’s it…” he coos mockingly, his hips slamming into you at a brutal pace, “‘s all you needed huh? A good fucking to calm you down.” His tone is hushed, his hands are leaving a bruising grip on your hips. He can’t keep his eyes off the way your ass jiggles with every thrust, the way his cock disappears between the soft flesh and reappears covered in your syrupy arousal.
Admittedly, he was right, you did need this. It had been months since you two fucked and the way his cock was stretching you out, hammering against the deepest spot within you, had your body so overwhelmed. Your hand is clasped helplessly over your mouth, muffling the moans that spill from your lips. His grip on the globes of your ass is nearly painful, using it as leverage to pull you back onto him.
“Missed this fucking pussy..” he growls from behind you, “reminds me of why I got you fucking pregnant…” he rambles on, “gripping me so tight, s’impossible to pull out.”
His words make your eyes roll into the back of your head. Every thrust of his hips bullies his cock up against your cervix in a way that has you gasping for air. You’re sobbing incoherently against your hand, every drag of his thick cock reminded you of how you even got to this point in the relationship- the dick was insanely good.
He releases one of your hips to slap your ass, it’s a resounding smack that stings and has the flesh recoiling under the contact, “fucking hell….” He muses, one of his hands coming up and brushing his hair back out of his face, his eyes never straying from the view of your ass slamming against his hips. “Fuck yourself back against me..c’mon, wanna see it.” He rasps out.
He slows his thrusts, nearly stopping completely. Chasing a high you haven’t felt in ages, your body complies. You immediately begin thrusting back, impaling yourself on his thick cock. It’s a delicious, devine stretch that has you biting the palm of your hand. You repeat the motion, speeding up with every wet slap of your hips against his. “Good fuckin’ girl.” Nam-Gyu is praising.
You can feel yourself getting closer to the delicious release of your orgasm, it’s quick, embarrassingly so, but you’re stretched so full and every time you sink him balls deep into your tight heat- a mind numbing wave of pleasure is sent up your spine. It’s an addictive feeling that you keep chasing desperately without even realizing it. You’re speeding up the backwards thrust of your hips, every time you meet his thighs with your ass a wet ‘clap’ resounds through the room.
“O-h fuck, that’s it… j-just like that. D-don’t you dare fucking stop.” Nam-gyu hisses out, a hand coming to thread itself in your hair and form a fist. He cranks your head back, a silent scream falls from your lips as you keep up the motion of your hips, sinking your cunt down onto him. You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. “Look at that fucking ass…” He muses, praising the body you were worried he didn’t even like.
He’s leaning forward a bit, his head hooking over your shoulder so his lips were right by your ear. His new position causes the movement of your hips to still, he picks up the slack by rolling his hips into a slow grind. “Gonna cum so f-fucking deep in your cunt.” He growls into your ear. You can hear that he has his teeth clenched, he’s speaking through his teeth like you and your pussy would be the death of him. “O-ohhhhhh, you like that… can feel you squeezing me..y-you want me to cum inside?” He pants, the hand in your hair turns your head to the side so he can leave harsh bites along the column of your neck as he grinds his cock impossibly deeper into you.
“C’mon answer me.. wan’ me to cum in you? Get you pregnant again…” He mocks, “…keep ya like this.” He growls lowly, his hand releasing your hair to grip at the fat of your hips and lower stomach, he’s even punctuating his words with a devious roll of his hips that grinds his cock into your g-spot. A wanton whine falls from your lips. Your back arches even more, deepening into a sinful curve that has Nam-Gyu spinning.
You should say no, call him some name and tell him to go fuck himself. “Nnghh… f-fuck y-yes!” You cry out in a hushed plea, you can’t help it. You need it. trying to thrust back onto his cock. You can feel how wet you were, making a mess of the backs of your thighs and the couch below you. “I-inside please!” You sob, eyebrows knitted together in a pleasured expression. You need so badly to once again experience the feeling of his thick cum filling you.
With both hands holding your hips he’s drawing your body back violently, impaling you on his girth. Every thrust is echoed by a lewd, sticky, ‘schlick’ sound that only proves how much of an influence he has on you. His cock has a mean curve that reaches so deep within you it has you seeing stars. The warmth of your orgasm beginning to blossom over your body and tingle deep within your cunt.
Every time he draws back his hips he’s dragging his cock out of your sopping walls until just the tip rests in your fluttering entrance then driving his hips forward to sink balls deep into you. You know you’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast. Moan after moan falls from your lips as your eyes cross and roll back in pure bliss. “T-that’s it, make a mess on my cock f’me.” Nam-gyu growls through clenched teeth, one hand reaching around to rub quick circles on your clit. The feather light touches that glide across your throbbing bundle of nerves is enough to send you over the edge.
“Ohmygodholyfuck.” You babble out incoherently, fingers digging into the fabric of the couch as you fall head first into a violent orgasm. Your pussy flutters around his cock, squeezing him like a vice. “Mhmm…f-fuck yeah that’s it…” He hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy, his other hand on your hips drops under you to grab at your swollen tits in frantic motions, the feeling of the doughy flesh in his hands jiggling with each of his thrusts is all it takes to drive him over the edge.
He’s working you through your orgasm with skilled fingers, your body shaking against his as he cums deep inside your cunt. You can feel it, it’s so much. It fills you even more than his cock already did, coating your gummy walls in its milky white color.
He thrusts lazily a few more times, making sure he properly fucks his cum into your spasming cunt. Your body is shaking and jolting violently against the couch, you can hear the obscene, wet, ‘plap’ of the mixture of your cum and his falling out of your cunt and hitting the sofa below you. The room is filled with alternating heavy breaths and the smell of sex. He slides his hands up and down your sides before resting back on your hips and slowly grinding his cock into you. He can barely bring himself to pull out, the warmth of your cunt is literally sucking him in. He can hear your overstimulated whines of protest with each slow roll of his hips and it drives him wild.
Eventually, he too gets overstimulated- your cunt is simply too good, his personal drug he’s addicted to, his own vice (but he’s never tell you that)- he’s pulling out his softening cock with a hiss, sitting back on his heels to watch his cum slowly seep out of your pussy that still is gaped with the shape of his cock. He groans, eyes rolling back into his skull as he tries to imprint the visual in his brain.
He collapses back onto the couch, one hand on your hip to make you follow suit, gently landing back first on his chest. You try to catch your breath, limply turning yourself over to fall back onto him. When you tuck yourself into his side his arm drapes over your waist. He places a kiss on the top of your head that’s so quick and gentle that you almost can’t feel it. You nuzzle his head onto his chest, you can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. You can’t form words. All you can do is let out a shaky sigh. It’s quiet in the room, only sound you can hear is your heaving breaths that eventually fall into sync with each other.
“You have got to change.” You say, the edge in your voice just emphasizes that you’re hanging on by the thinnest thread possible. You want this to work out- you do- you love him and you adore your child. You want to be a regular family.
“I know.” He says, his voice breathless. His arm tightens around the curve of your waist, pulling you into him like you might suddenly get up and run away-because you might- he can tell with your voice it’s different this time, you’re serious. And he wants to change, he does…he just doesn’t know if he has it in him.
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I hope you guys enjoyed this one 😙😙😙 I really appreciate all of y’all’s support it means so much!! I’m working through the requests I have and whipping up some noice fics! Yall have fantastic minds 😩 all the requests are so scrumptious
Im trying to gather all my marbles after being sick so the queue I had goin is a little wonky. im working through it and will update yall on said queue of requests next post! Love yew guys !! - kiwi
#namgyu x reader#namgyu smut#nam gyu smut#namgyu x reader smut#nam gyu x reader smut#player124 smut#player 124 x reader smut#namgyu fanfic#nam gyu squid game#squid game fanfiction#squid game fanfic#squidgames smut fic#namgyu x reader smut fic#player 124 x reader#player124 x you#player 124 x y/n#nam gyu x reader#namgyu x y/n smut#nam-gyu x reader#nam-gyu x reader smut#player124#squid games namgyu x reader smut#x reader squid games
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ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ | ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ | ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 18+ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: OK IM KINDA PROUD W HOW I DID THIS AHH. i hope u guys like it bc if not i will evaporate out of embarrassment.
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your plan to get out more fails miserably and you end up in an even crappier situation. But over the next week, things start to look up as you finally get to go out for a work event. What bad could happen there?
ᴄᴡ: obsessive behavior, stalking, yandere, infatuation, smut, vox is mean and a pathetic lil bitch, hypnotism, dubious consent, humiliation, use of toys
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5,257
ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!
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Vox had laid the ground rules for this little arrangement of yours:
No leaving the penthouse without his approval
No saying "no" to him, if he needed you to do something, you'd do it.
If he caught you cheating— "you'd never do that so why even bother mentioning the punishment!"
No talking to Valentino unless Vox was present
He would always have access to your phone and passwords.
but there were some advantages that he laid out for you as well! -
You could use his credit card any time for anything
You had full access to his private chef, private stylist (hair and clothes), chauffeur, and pretty much anything material that you desired
All your past bills that you neglected would be paid off
And, you got his love and affection! (you could do without that part)
__
Vox made sure you followed his rules, not that you were going to break them— as much as you hated to admit it, it's kinda better than barely scraping by. You were pretty much stuck in the penthouse all day (he'd never give you permission to leave, rule number 1 was practically useless). However, there was a silver lining! Vox was at work 24/7 and unless he gave you a surprise visit, you had the day to yourself!
When Vox was home, he wouldn't leave you alone. He was literally on top of you, sexually and non-sexually, non-stop. Touching you, showering you in gifts, whispering little words of affection in your ear. His love was suffocating. It might all sound endearing, but the "love" was veryy one-sided. You think part of him knows he doesn't love you. Does he care? No. As long as you say those three sweet words to him, nothing else matters! Even if they're told out of fear and force.
__
You've been living in his penthouse for a week, and you hadn't stepped out once. You became restless, and a little kooky, you had to get out for the sake of your mental health.
Grabbing out your phone, you swallow your pride and text Vox. You grimaced at his contact name "Love <3"— you figured he'd taken he liberty of changing his contact from "Boss.". You sigh as you bullshit the fakest lovey-dovey text ever. Anything to get out of this God-forsaken penthouse.
Love <3: < Where are you?
< I was in the shower
< Without me? ;]
Read Yesterday 8:57pm
—
Today 1:23pm
< Hello my love! Can I come visit you at work? <3
< Miss me already?
< Yesss, can I come?
< I don't know if I want you making a trek all the way over here.
< I'll be home at 9:00pm, don't worry, doll.
< But I miss you nowwww, it's only an elevator ride. :(
read 1:25pm
Oh god damn it, he left you on read! You silently prayed that he would respond, you couldn't take it.
Love <3: < Fine. Only because you begged. Come down and do not fucking talk to anyone, okay? I'll be watching you so don't even try it. Hurry.
< Thank you!! Love you so so much!
< Love you more, Doll.
__
You slapped on something modest so Vox wouldn't freak out and headed out to his office. The walk there wasn't nearly long enough. But, you could dawdle a bit and play it off as being clumsy and Vox would be none the wiser.
Walking out of the elevator, you make your way to his office slowly. "Doll!" he calls out, swiveling his chair to face you, "come here.". You step closer and he yanks your wrist, making you sit on his lap. Rough, possessive, kisses plague the back of your neck as you're sat on him. You try to maneuver your neck to get him to stop, but it only makes his touches more greedy. He grabs hold of your face, "You better fucking stop that.". A chill went down your spine, he could be really fucking terrifying when he wants to be.
The hand that's not gripping your jaw snakes down to your thighs, dipping in between them to delicately tease the sensitive skin. Your breath hitches, "V-Vox the door is open-". "Shh," his breath is hot against your ear. He hooks his claws under the waistband of your trousers, "Don't worry, nobody would say a fucking word if they saw anything.".
A shaky sigh escapes your lips as he slowly pulls down your pants. The fabric slides down your legs, the cold air hits your exposed skin causing goosebumps. "You're so beautiful," he kisses your cheek, "arms up, Doll.". He quickly removes your shirt and unhooks your bra, discarding it on the floor by his desk. Your body shakes as you're left naked on his lap, anyone could walk in at the moment. His door is left ajar, a simple peak by an employee— or god forbid an overlord—and they could see everything.
Vox rubs his large hands over the soft expanse of your bare thighs, "I wanna show you something.". In one swift motion, he lifts you off his lap and bends you over his desk. Your body presses against the cold hard surface, buttons prodding and poking at your bare torso.
"Look at this," he yanks the back of your hair, forcing your neck to crane upward at the monitors. With a click of a few buttons, camera footage of you purposefully meandering around slowly plays on every monitor. You can hear his angered, heavy, breathing panting loudly from behind you, "Think you can try this shit on me and not have me fucking find out?". "V-Vox I didn't mean to I-". '"B̶̾̀͘U̴̱̳̳̔͜͜L̷̓L̷̓͌̎Ś̸͙̺͆̏͂H̵̛̘̤̅̿͘͝I̸͂T̷̊̉̕," he roars, his voice heavy with static. A new image appears on the screen displaying the texts from earlier, "See when I said fucking "H̵̛̘̤̅̿͘͝U̴̱̳̳̔͜͜R̷͇̙̎̍́R̷͇̙̎̍́Ý̴̇̈́͘͝". I let you go out, and this is what you fucking do?! Do I need to remind you of rule number two?!". The clank of metal and flop of fabric hitting the floor is all you hear before he thrusts into you mercilessly.
"Fuck!" you yell out, whining at the dry stretched-out feeling. His hands roughly pinch at your nipple and clit while he rams his hips into yours, "This is why you're not allowed outside! Trying to avoid me? Fuck is your deal, brat?!". "I gave you EVERYTHING! Are you trying to get away? Talk to some other fucking prick, huh?!" his last word is punctuated by a brutal thrust. "No, V-Vox I'm so sorry, please-" tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your core starting to throb and clench around him. "Don't. You're never allowed outside again. Got it?"
You whimper helplessly, "Please I-I". "GOT IT?" he yells, yanking on your hair harder. "Y-Yes! I won't go outside!" your body betrays you, a coil building up inside you. You were undesirably close. "Good girl," he coos, releasing your hair only to force your head to the side. Your cheek is squished awkwardly against the hard metal of his desk, your head facing the door.
"I want you to look at whoever may come in, seeing you bent over for my cock like the slut you are," his cock continues to push into at a quick pace. Your face burns red. Anyone could walk in! God forbid it be someone you knew like a co-worker. Even if someone didn't see you, someone can most definitely hear you.
"You love me so fucking much, don't you? You're so fucking close I can feel it," he says smugly, his index finger rubbing lazy circles along your clit to tease you. He growls when he gets no response. A chunk of your hair is grabbed and your head is thrown backward to look at him, "Ä̵́̓N̸̏̒Ś̸W̵̉É̸̪̯̗̀̈̆͑R̷̎̍́ M̶̀͋̇É̸̪̯̗̀̈̆͑ W̵̉̔H̵̛̘̤̅̿͘͝É̸̪̯̀̈̆͑N̸̏̒ I̸͂ T̷̊̕Ä̵́L̷̓͌K̵̛̽̉ T̷̊̉̕O̵͆͊ Ý̴̇͘͝O̵͆͊́U̴̱̳̳̔͜͜.". His voice was loud and full of static. Tears fall down your face as you say the words you know he wants to hear, "I-I love you so much. I-I'm close. Please, can I cum?".
He chuckles wickedly and pulls out of you, the loss making you whine involuntarily, "After the stunt you pulled? No no.". You stand up and turn to face him. He's sat leaned back against his chair; Legs spread wide open, his jutting cock leaking cum from his cyan tip that drips down to his thighs. "On your knees," he commands.
You obey, getting on your knees before him. Before you can act he shoves your head on his cock, bobbing your head manually. The tip of his cock pokes the back of your throat, making you gag. "Watch it," he warns. He releases his forced movement and holds your hair out of your face, "Hnnf, fuck, that's it, SHIT!". Hot cum spurts out of his cock and down your throat. "Swallow," he looks down at you with narrow eyes. You obey, gulping down the slightly salty liquid.
You sit back while he pulls his pants back up, sniffling quietly as tears involuntarily spill from your eyes. "Come here," he curls his finger towards you and settles you on his lap. "Don't cry, doll," his teal claw wipes away your tears, "I do this because I love you. You have to learn.". You hated him. His excuse was total bullshit, the only thing you "learned" from this was how much of a psychopath he was.
But what could you even do in that moment? Rejecting him would only make this go from bad to worse. So, hesitantly, you lean your head against his chest and sob. "Shh shh, that's it," he coos, running a hand through your hair, "don't cry, Doll, I'm here.". You squeezed your eyes shut and clung to the fabric of his shirt, weeping softly. Frustration coursed through your veins, all you could do was sit there and cry.
After a few minutes, your eyes get droopy. You were exhausted and spent. After drifting in and out of consciousness, you succumb to slumber and nap on his lap.
You wake up in your shared bed, now clad in soft shark pajamas you assumed Vox had put on you. Shakily, you sit up from bed and look around at the desolate room. This is where you will reside for God knows how long... You wanted to cry, truly. But you just couldn't. You've cried enough. Now you're just numb, all you could do was start blankly at the tv in front of you.
__
You had fallen asleep again a while later, waking up to the sound of the door opening and closing. Vox strolls in and sits beside you on the bed, a bag of takeout food in hand, "Wake up, Doll.". Turning over, you see his usual grin plastered on his face as he hovers over you. "I brought home your favorite food~" he holds up the bag. You sit up softly, "Thanks...". His eyes narrow in on you, "Don't tell me you're still upset-". "No no-" you defend, "I'm just... not feeling well.". "Good," he presses a kiss to the top of your head, "I hate when you're mad at me, especially for stupid shit.".
The two of you eat the food on the bed, though you could hardly eat. He's constantly checking your temperature and asking if you're okay every 5 seconds. You nod yes and poke around at the food on your plate. "You need to eat," he says softly, bringing a piece of food up to your lips. Begrudgingly, you take it. Despite how much you hated him at the moment, he was right, you did need to eat.
"That's it, princess" he smiles, feeding you another piece. It was kinda nice being fed. No doubt, you hated his fucking guts, but Its no use expressing that either. You leaned into his touch and were complacent when he pulled you close, having you rest against his chest. "I love you, okay?" he kisses the top of your head, "believe me when I tell you I only want the best...". __
A Week Later:
You'd spent the last week trapped in the penthouse, you started going a little crazy, but this morning seemed full of promise! Because of last week's debacle, you had been kissing major ass all week to get back on his good side and hopefully go outside again.
You wake up in a mess of tangled limbs, Vox's long legs intertwined with yours as he stares up at you on top of him, "Good morning. How did you sleep?". "Mm... fine," you mutter. "Glad to hear it," he rubs your back softly, "you've been so good to me this week, how would you like to attend a little work event with me? I'd love to show off a pretty little thing like you on my arm.". "Really?" you sit up and smile. Vox smiles and nods his head softly, "Mhm, as long as you stay by my side-". "Y-Yes! I would love to go!" you say cheerfully. You finally get to leave!
Vox clears his throat, “Don’t you have something to say to me?”. “Huh?” you turn your head, “Oh, right, thank you.”. “Annnd?” Vox turns his head and gestures to his screen cheek. Ugh. You cringe, feigning a sincere smile as you lean forward to kiss his cheek, "I love you.". "Good girl," he praises, "I think I'll take work off today, just spending the day with you until the event.". "O-Oh you don't have to do that-". "But I want to!" he interrupts grinning manically, his eye twitching a bit. "Alright," you respond softly. Jesus this man was unstable.
His long arms grab hold of you and pull you down on his chest, his grip tight and restricting. "Vox-" you mutter, voice muffled against his chest, "can't- breath-". "Shhh," he whispers, "just relax...". You sigh, adjusting yourself so that your cheek is pressed against his chest. His claws rake through your hair, gently massaging your head, and lulling you back to sleep.
__
"Hey, wake up sleepy head."
"hmm?" you blink your eyes open and see Vox slowly lifting you off the bed and into his arms. "Hey," you protest weakly, squirming around in his arms, "put me down!". His grip was firm and unrelenting, chuckling as you tossed around, "Slow down there, tiger, I'm just taking you to the kitchen. I ordered breakfast.". "Put me back on the bed," you whine, overstimulated from his touch and exhausted. "No," he walks into the kitchen and sets you down on a stool beside the island, "It's already 8, time to get up.". You groan and rest your face against the island counter, the black marble cold against your cheek. Ugh. First, he smothers you, and now he's forcing you to wake up? Fuck him.
Vox rummages through the takeout bag and pulls out eggs Benedict encased in a plastic box. Placing a guiding hand on your back, he gently coaxes you upward, "Sit up, sweetheart.". "Mmmngh," you groan tiredly. He cuts it up and takes a forkful of food, bringing it up to your lips. Hesitantly, you take the food. "Hm," you say, your voice muffled as you speak with your mouth full, "this is good. What is it?". "Eggs benedict," he replies, bringing another forkful of food to your lips. You take another bite and swallow, "Is it some type of rich people's food?". Vox laughs, "Depends where you get it from. In this case, yes".
Vox moves closer, his breath hot against your ear, "Anything for you.". Bleh, now your appetite's ruined, "I'm full.". "You didn't each much," he frowns, "you sure you're full?". "Yeah," you sigh, "I'm definitely full.". "Alright," he kisses your cheek and takes away your plate of food, "next time we'll have you try caviar.".
You raise an eyebrow, "The fish shit? I'll pass.". A bark of laughter escapes his lips, "It's good! Trust m-". His sentence is cut off by the ringing of his cell phone, "Oh God dammit what now!". Grabbing the phone out of his pocket, he aggressively taps the "decline" button. He sighs, returning his phone to his pocket and plastering on his showman smile, "Sorry about that, where were we?". His phone rings again. Vox groans and picks up the phone, W̋Hͭ͐Ä̤̝̦́̂̚Țͬ?!". Your body recoils as he yells, his voice distorted and deafening.
He paces around the kitchen as he's on the phone, "uh huh" and "are you fucking serious?" repeating every once in a while. "Fine," he sighs, "I'll be there.". Retreating his phone to his pocket, he turns to you with a saddened expression, "Listen, doll, they need me at the office. Will you be alright here without me?". You fought back a smile as you responded, "I just might be okay.". "Alright," he kisses your cheek, "call me if you need me okay? I love you.". You nod, "I will, bye.".
His eyes narrow, "Bye? That's all?". You tilt your head, "Wh-". "Don't play ̖ͥf̥̖̗̗̔uc̟ͩk̂̋̍i͗n͎͊͒̀g͊͛̊ STUPID, Y/N!" he roars, sparks of blue electricity flying out from his screen. You gasp and flinch, your eyes squeezed shut as you prepare for the worst. "Oh shit," his hand rests on the side of his face in an annoyed gesture. Taking a deep breath, he calms himself down, the sparks beginning to fade, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell, I'm just frustrated at the fucking idiots at work who can't get anything done. Let's try this again.". He smiles and kisses your cheek, "Goodbye, I love you.". "I-I love you too, bye," you reply weekly. "Good girl," he presses a kiss to your forehead and heads out.
__
Love <3:
< Event at 5:00. Should wrap things up here around 4ish.
< Kk.
< Love you.
< Love u 2.
read 1:30pm
You couldn't help but feel giddy towards the work event happening later today. You found yourself daydreaming about all the things you were about to finally experience again: socializing, being somewhere other than the penthouse, some semblance of normalcy. Ah! You kicked your feet and squealed in excitement.
Just then, you heard a knock at the door. Weird, you weren't expecting anyone— and Vox would've told you if he was getting home early. You swing your legs off the side of the bed and slide down, making your way towards the door.
Opening the door, you see the female imps you know to be Vox's personal stylists. "Oh," you smile down at them politely, "I didn't schedule a styling did I?". "Nope!" one of the imps pipes up, "Vox scheduled it for you.". "He did I-" before you can finish, the stylists let themselves in and take charge setting up in the bathroom.
A blonde imp grabs hold of your hand and drags you into the bathroom, immediately grabbing at your clothes to undress you. "N-No," you turn bright red and stop her from continuing, "I can undress myself, thank you.". She nods and begins to draw a bath.
Once the bath is ready, she gestures for you to step in. As you do, you sink into the warm water, letting the calming essential oils and bubbles relax your muscles, "Mmm.". "Is the temperature to your liking?" she asks softly, sticking her arm into the tub to check it. "Yes, thank you."
With your approval, another imp along with her each grab a limb and starts scrubbing and shaving. You wince in pain as they wash you mercilessly. "So much for relaxing," you mutter under your breath. After they finish their assault on you, you're ushered out of the bath and a robe is slipped onto your naked body.
The two stylists who bathed you sat you down on the vanity where a beautiful brunette imp smiled at you, "Hi there! I'm Gemma, I'm going to be doing your makeup today.". "Hi, Gemma," you respond, smiling back at her. Gemma gestures to the blonde imp who dragged you to the bathroom, "This is Brittany, she'll be doing your hair.". You wave to Brittany and are met with a cold glance as she gathers hair tools.
You couldn't blame her. If you were Vox's stylist you'd be in a bad mood too. The other imp, who wasn't introduced, rummaged through a box of clothes and filtered in and out of your closet gathering dresses and accessories. And with that, the stylists get to work on doing a full glam for the event.
__
4:00pm
It takes a few hours for Brittany and Gemma to finish styling you. Your makeup was done beautifully, natural yet glamorous, while your hair was curled into a blowout type hairdo. As you looked in the mirror, you couldn't help but admire the job they'd done. You looked hot as shit!
Your vanity was cut short as the chair your in is swiveled around to face a stylist holding an array with dresses. "Alright," she holds up a white maxi dress and a light blue maxi dress, "how do you feel about these two dresses?". "Ehhh, I'm not fan, sorry," you admit. "I agree," she tosses the dresses aside, "hideous.".
The stylist goes into your closet and stifles through your clothes. "Aha!" she exclaims, returning from the closet with another dress. She holds it up and shakes it enticingly with a smile, "This is the one!". "Woah, where did you find that?" you get up from your seat and take the dress in your hands, fingers running over the material. "In your closet," she replies. Oh, right. Vox had gotten you so many dresses you had lost track of all of them at this point. The dress was stunning— a deep navy blue with a lace corset and beautiful glittery floral patterns all around.
The imp helps you into the dress and puts on the finishing touches— lotion, perfume, jewelry, accessories, heels, etc.
__
The stylists leave after you pay them and you're left in the penthouse. You take a glance at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your purse and walking out. Right as you exit, Vox enters, already dressed up for the event in a crisp velvet navy blue suit. "Y/N, I'm- Woah," he stops as he sees you, his pupils dilating to the size of tennis balls as you meet face to face, "you look- amazing.". It's almost endearing the way he looks at you. You fight the blush creeping onto your face and turn your head to the side "Thanks, you too.".
He steps forward and smiles, offering his arm to you, "Ready, dollface?". You nod and smile, "I'm ready."
__
You arrive at the event which seemed to be a little soiree for VoxTech affiliates and other overlords. Vox stays by your side the whole time, introducing you to people, escorting you around, and even dancing with you for a short while! It was a great night, Vox got to show off what was rightfully his and have you close while you got to socialize! Win-win!
The night was going smoothly, so smoothly in fact that he let you go unattended for a while to grab a couple drinks. You make your way over to the bartender and order two drinks. While you wait, a tall deer-esque demon approaches you. The Radio Demon. Fuck. Vox had vaguely told you about him before, seemingly not wanting to talk about him. But, he made one thing perfectly clear: Do not ever go near him.
You turn to the bartender, "I'm sorry to bug you but can you make this quick because-". A finger tapping on your shoulder interrupts you. You wince and hesitantly turn around, greeted with a sharp smile from the Radio demon. He extends a handout and shakes your hand aggressively, "Ah, you must be the famous Y/N everyone's talking about! Alastor, quite a pleasure to be meeting you!". "Uh, hi," you take your hand back and keep your responses short.
"So, I see you're one of Vox's victims, I mean partners— though I suppose the two are synonyms in this case HA HA!" he laughs hysterically at his own joke. "Right..." The bartender finally finishes with the two drinks and you grab them hastily and walk past him. Alastor leans against the bar counter with a smug grin, "I would get out of this little predicament if I were you.". You stop in your tracks, did he know about your situation with Vox?
"What?" you turn around. "Your situation," he pushes off the bar counter and steps closer, "I understand how Vox is. I was once you, you know— The apple of his eye you could say.". "You dated Vox?". "Goodness, no!" he laughs, "he simply just had taken quite the liking to me. I rejected him, obviously, but I am aware of his rather... obsessive behaviors.".
"I understand how... annoying, it can get," his eye twitches subtly before returning to its seemingly cheerful state, "what I mean to say is, I have a way to get you out.". "Get me out?" you repeat, eyes widening at his proposition. You fought an internal battle as you considered his words. Sure, Vox made your life torture sometimes but... was it any better than barely having the necessities to survive? Was Vox right when he said you needed him?
"...How would you help me?" you ask. Alastor chuckles lowly and extends a hand out to shake, a green glow emanating from his palm, "How about we make a deal?". Before you can answer, you hear a familiar booming static approach, "̣̝́Y/̼̙̂̈́N̊̐!".
Shiiiiiitttt...
Vox marches up to where you and Alastor are, his eyes fixed on the Radio Demon. Alastor smiles and disappears into a shadow before Vox can get to him. "God ̗̩̜ͅD̽̒Ä̤́̂̚M̰ͤ̚M̰̖ͤͫ̚I̗̝Țͬ!" Vox yells. He turns to you, his breath ragged and shaky. Before you can say anything, he tightly grasps your wrists and teleports you in a wave of static.
__
You're suddenly transported back into the penthouse bedroom. Vox throws you onto the bed and looms over you, "I don't fucking get it! I've given you everything, and time and time again you've fucking- UGH!". He throws his hands in the air and paces around the room, "Money, clothes, food, shelter, LOVE— I'VE GIVEN EVERYTHING. WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP LEAVING??," his voice becomes strained and tears start to well in his eyes.
His words and tears strike a chord with you, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach as he cries before you. This wasn't just about you leaving anymore. Carefully, you reach out and rub his back, "Vox, please... I wasn't trying to leave you this time, A-Alastor offered but I said no! I promise.".
His shuddering stops as you place a hand on your back, his body still as you speak. Once you finish speaking, he lifts his head, his digital display of eyes puffy and red, a scowl on his face, "Fuck! Stop pitying me! I don't know what to do to make you FUCKING STAY!". He jerks his body away from you and stomps over to the closet, searching through some boxes for God knows what.
"Vox?" you call out, "Are you okay?". No response. He comes out a few minutes later with a manic smile, his arms hiding something behind his back, "I'm gonna make sure you fucking stay.". Without warning, he pins you down the mattress and rips off your dress. "Vox what are you-?!". "QUIET," he demands, "I've had enough of that shit! You're gonna be obedient and you're gonna fucking love it.". He slides the dress off you along with your panties.
You shake slightly as he undresses you. His large hand rubs over your calf in a soothing motion, "Don't be scared, I'm gonna make you feel good, okay?". Vox reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a deep red double-pronged vibrator. The sight makes you clench your legs together tightly.
Taking hold of your knees, he spreads your legs apart. "Keep them open," he demands. With a click of a button, the toy jolts to life and vibrates at a low setting. "Hm, not nearly enough to tame this fucking brat," he mutters to himself as he switches it to a higher setting. He turns back to you with a cruel grin, "Much better.". Slowly, he brings the vibrator in between your legs and presses the head of the longer, thicker prong against your core.
"Fuck!" you exclaim, the vibrations causing you to squirm as your pussy aches for more. Scared of defying him, you desperately keep your legs open and thrash around, "Hnnf, oh god thats-". "That's right, doll," he pushes the vibrator deeper into you, causing you to gasp.
As the toy plunges into you, the second prong vibrates against your clit. The double stimulation makes you moan, an embarresingly needy whine that echoes throughout the penthouse, "F-Fuck, mmph, can't take it-". "Yes you can," he pushes it deeper, "and you will.".
He starts to slowly push the vibrator in and out of you. The pleasure becomes all to much for you. He pistons it in and out of you to a point where you're a mess— babbling incoherently as he continues to fuck you mercilessly with the toy.
"Hnnf, I, mmmph," you mumble. Vox chuckles and tilts the toy upwards so it hits your G-spot, enjoying the way your body writhes beneath his touch. You start to see stars as the pleasure overcomes you. Vox looms over you and gazes into your eyes, "Look at me.". Your half lidded eyes meet his swirling ones.
He's trying to hypnotize you, but you can't do anything about it as you rendered helpless against him. "You will be fucking obedient from now on," he says, "you will love me, and NEVER fucking leave me. Got it?". The once repulsive idea suddenly became so... enticing... the longer you look into his hypnotic stare.
"Y-Yes," you mumble, your voice whiny and high pitch. "That's a good girl," he pistons the toy in and out of you faster, "now tell daddy what you want.". "Want...," you mutter mindlessly, lost in a haze of pleasure and hypnotism, "want you.".
Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers, "That's it, now you're getting it, Doll. Go ahead, cum.". His words snap the tight cord in your stomach and you finally release. "Fuck!" you yelp, your back arching against the sheets as you buck forward into the toy.
You come down from you high and Vox removes the vibrator from you. Dipping a claw into your dripping slit, he scoops up your release and brings it to his lips. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop. "Divine," he looks back at you with a smirk.
As he cleans you up, you lay there and pant. Your mind was racing yet blank at the same time. The once disdainful thoughts about Vox turned to ones of compliance and adoration. You were so deep in "thought" you hadn't realized Vox had dressed you in a large t shirt and pajama shirts.
You sit up and see Vox crawling into bed in just his boxers. You weren't exactly sure why but you craved his touch. Immedietly, you crawl toward him and lay your head on his chest, cuddling close to his body. Vox smiles and massages your head with his sharp claws, "There we go. Was that so hard?". "No," you say mindlessly, nuzzling your head into his chest, "I-I love you.. so much...".
His smiles blissfully and closes his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "I love you more."
The End __
this is the dress reader is wearing btwwwwwwwwwww
GUYS AAAA OK IM HAPPY W HOW I DID THIS SO EFBKHWJEFHKBWE
i will do anotha part if ygs want or if i feel like it so yeahhhh
bone apple tea
(if i missed you or accidentally added you please lmk! also if u wanna be added lmk!)
ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ:
@takemetoneverland420, @rlini0914, @ithofficial, @angel-fallz, @sweet-radio, @fru1tbatzz,
@janussillyprompts, @leonotlara, @cosmiiwrites, @liveontelevision
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin vox#vox x reader#hazbin x reader#reader x vox#vox the tv demon#hazbin hotel vox#vox x reader smut#reader x vox smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin smut#hazbin hotel smut#smut#x reader#x reader smut#vox smut#vox yandere#yandere vox#yandere smut#vox#hazbin vox smut#vox imagine#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x reader smut
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PUSH2START: rafe cameron gets turned on when reader (THEE brand-new hot young singer), went to outer banks to record her next music video, from her smash summer song.
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NOTES: HEAR ME OUT that idea came into me bc i think tyla and drew would make such a hot couple mdjjdjdj…also english is not my first language, so apologies for any mistake!
WARNINGS: male masturbation,erotic fantasy, rafe and his disturbing troughts about fucking reader.
“Jesus..fuckk” rafe’s dirty words sounded more like a curse while stroking himself to the image of your doll-body, tan sun kissed skin and bambi eyes. God, you were just so fuckable- the way ur hips were movin while dancing to “pushin' on my buttons with no hesitation”, -makin rafe actually wanna push all of your buttons deeply…he remembers your foreigner accent calling him:
“Hay Mr. rafey cameron” you said with a big smile, on your way to hug him. He hated how he loved that hug so much, stayin’ a litte longer with his hand on ur waist, squeezing a lil’ bit.
A big popstar like you coming to a small city like outer banks of course kept the place curious. Everyone were looking foward to meet u ever since the media leaked the place you were going to shoot the music video for PUSH2START. But u def didn’t disapointed. Everyone were stunned not only by your unreal beauty, but about how kind and sweet was your personality. You made sure to take pictures with all the fans, talk to them, and even payed some food for the tired fans.
The Cameron family, as the richest clan livin in outer banks, were the ones taking care of the whole musicvideo. The shoots, the recording, the marketing…everything. So, ofcourse rafe cameron would be present. Sarah and Wheezie were having a blash about meeting the most pretty, talented, funny and successful it girl of the time. Mr Rafe, could not care less..i mean, he did in fact not give a fuck about pop divas, so it was just another boring ass event he would have to attend cuz hes ward’s cameron son.
That changed the minute he saw you. WHATTHEFUCK-the only thing that passed by his head. He could not move or speak, cuz all the blood from his body went straight to his cock. He had too many thoughts- all ending up with you screaming his name while he pounded hard into your tight pussy. was a fucking torture to him watch you all day, seeing you with those small jeans, top cropped, showing your belly piercing he desperately wanted to lick, and your pretty legs that we wanted to grab and squeeze.
In fact, he did tried to flirty with you all day. Calling you princess, beauty, doll, honey…tried to keep eye-contact, laying his hands on your body- but you were just naive and innocent. You had this confident hot woman recording the music video, but you also had a very sweet and kinda dorky girl in the behind the scenes. Rafe wanted to get you all for himself, and beat the hell up of any boy who tries to hit on you. All these patetic losers guys could not workship you the way he would. FUCK you were driving him insane and honry as hell.
So, when he got home, his dick hurting for so much time being hard, he opens his phone, and finds the pic he was taking of you. Rafey’s mouth started to salivate just by looking at your wet skin- he wanted so bad to get you like this-. He zoomed at your perfect face, and lowered his hand at his drooling dick, givin a long squeeze. took his pants n brief almost immediatly, he was high by how honry he was.
Cameron felt at his stomach his pink, big cock, leaking precum on the top of it, and slowly started to move. Stroking himself meanwhile movin hips, imagining he was slamming the hell out of you-pushin all of your buttons-felt so goddamn amazing. It was so hard to keep holdin his phone with ur pic w the free hand, so lost in his imagination and burning desire.
“Oh my princess..fuck” he screams when his orgasm hits like a bomb in his body. Cum were all over ur picture from his phone. And one thing he knew- he needs u badly and it must make HASTE.
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#obx x reader#outerbanks rafe#outer banks#tyla#smut#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#bsf rafe cameron#rafe smut
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the good part about not having a black suits recording is that i can imagine john calming chris down to be as gay as i want
#nates drawings#the black suits#tbs#chris thurser#john amoroso#jochris#?? what is their ship name#anyway don’t look at the background this is my first attempt at making a real background#i kinda hate this how did it take me so long#also john stretched lobes is canon if you disagree fight me#also i do NOT know how to draw blood#drawing this was so hard for no reason#anyway i really like them. they’re so straight (chris transgender)
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the penguins core but theyre the hearts suit in a pack of cards
#I am planning on making the other suits with other cores of the other 3 devisions#this did take like 4 hours I dont wanna talk about it#nhl#pittsburgh penguins#sidney crosby#evgenimalkinedit#kris letang#nhledit#kyle.graphics#me kinda hating how these turned out when i spend so long on it is y hate t hhis obby actually
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heeyyy gaaanggg
the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.
#my art#digital art#digital painting#fanart#resident evil 7#ethan winters#goddd PLEAAASEEEE#i havent known if i was gonna post this or not multiple times in the process of drawin this. but ultimately i spent too much time on it to#NOT post it. embarrassment be damned#but at the same time what am i even doin yknow. what is this what is goin on pleaaseee PLEASEEEEE#I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RESIDENT EVIL!!! I DONT KNOW N O T H I NG I KNOW LESS THAN NOTHING#HOW?? HOW DID I GET HERE??? WHY DID THIS HAPPEN???? i know exactly the answer to all those questions but it still boggles me how fast this#happened. usually it takes WEEKS if not MONTHS for me to start makin fanart. this was faaasttttt TOO FAST and im like. genuinely constantly#thinkin about this game. im ALWAYS thinkin about this game. part of why this took me so long to do is cause i always wanna play re7 or thin#about re7 in a strange and deranged way. ive actually genuinely been SICK WHAT HAPPENEDDDDDD#im losing it!! anyways this took me a looonggg ass time and i redrew it soo many timmmessss#i did like. 3 lineart passes. the album version i did 3 shading passes. i really struggled!! and ultimately i dont know how i feel about it#like i kinda resent it. for takin so long and makin me suffer so much#never again. never again will i spend that much time on a drawing. i HATE when drawins take a long time. i HATE that. it makes me madddd#ive been insane. ive been so insane. and im not gettin better like i cant sleep sometimes cause im thinkin about this game and this guy and#that gal like i think about them!! so! so much!! oh my god!!#in the time it took me to finish this ive done like 10 sketches for other pieces like. and ive had like 3 ideas ive written down.#and like 50 that i havent written or sketched.#IVE WRITTEN POETRY!! P O E T R Y !!!#i write the occasional poem when im feelin some kinda profound emotion but i NEVER write poetry about media SOBBING#anyways thats the post i think this is the beginnin of the end so lets hold hands and pray. ugh sorry if i get sick. im shakin.
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:-P
#how long ago did i watch pacific rim? i feel like it might have been last year but i finally drew this lmao#sometimes it just takes a while. newt specifically gets under my skin tho bc i think his research interests r kinda similar to mine#at least in a broad sense. but im dealing with cyanobacteria which is less exciting to most ppl lol but any fanfic i read thats like: newt#has 6 phds im like fucking what? what r they in? they have to be literature based right?! when would u have time to independently design.#carry out. write and defend for 6 independent projects in different topics by his age?#what as waste of time. i say as a person who would happily fuck around and collect degrees without ever having to get a real job#idk characters i relate to make me a little unhinged bc i do not like to relate to characters lol#pacific rim#herman gottlieb#newt geiszler#newton geiszler#tw blood#tw gore#also i agree with herman abt the numbers quote. physics is like literally understanding the fabric of the universe so like yeah#also i cant draw hermann and i cant see his face without thinking of owen from torchwood who i hated lol#pacrim
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It’s not true that Feyre’s trauma only shows up in the spring court or that it disappears in the night court. Just as she only once when surprised freaks out at the red of Lucien’s hair, she only sometimes is triggered in the NC. The first time she and Rhys fly after she leaves the spring court, she panics when she feels caged by his wings and Rhys has to back off. Mor doesn’t wear red for a bit to not trigger her. Then there’s the whole Prison plot where she can’t handle the Prison the first time because of her trauma and even when she eventually goes in, she’s freaking out.
Her trauma gets better with time even though she is still struggling on acowar and obviously it’s not every second or she wouldn’t have spent so much time with Lucien and been fine with his red hair all times except once when surprised
Thanks for the anon! You bring up some good points, but I still have to complain haha.
My issue is that she is not just triggered at Lucien's red hair. She is also triggered by red paint and red rose petals....and then never again. Red carpet at Rhys' just a few pages after she gets 'saved' from the spring court? Whatever. Cassian's red syphons? Nothing. That's bad writing, in my opinion. Either the dang color red reminds her of blood and triggers her, or it doesn't, but how it is almost immediately forgotten - that's just inconsistent (it would be definitely much more meaningful, if it slowly improved). Honestly I don't really remember her having any hangups in Acowar at all. And neither has Rhys. He gets like what, one nightmare and one sex position hangup? I was really disappointed that it just....went over so quickly. Maybe that's why I latch onto Tamlin? At least his issues aren't gone after a book. They even get worse as he doesn't seek help. It's just more compelling to me.
My biggest beef in this regard is that Feyre gets triggered getting locked in, but the first time she gets taken by Rhysand and HE locks her in a room, she's totally fine, despite being actually low key scared of him at that point still and him not taking her home despite her asking him to. It just makes no sense, even with the added wing scene (which I did not remember, so thanks for that). I get that in the Tamlin version she is hysterical (for lack of better term) so it ends in a panic attack, but still.
There's also the part of how she has all these freak outs in the spring court while she is totally able to just literally re-enact her UTM experience in hewn city. Did that not bother you? Yes Rhys calms her and shit, but I couldn't help but eyeroll at that.
In the end I think it's just very manipulative writing to prime you on Rhys good, Tam bad. Spring Court lame, Night Court awesome. When SJM wants something to happen in the plot, it will happen, no matter if it makes sense. Be it the Tamlin-Rhys switcheroo, the UTM sexy scene, the pregnancy plotline, what have you. It's why every new book retcons something from the previous ones.
Personally, I can float with that and accept the silliness of it all quite well. But in consequence it also means I do not take the trauma plot as serious as some and I really do not care whether or not Tamlin is abusive and so on....
#this got so long#shit Im sorry#why do i have so many acomaf feels? idk man this book hurt me#tbh i kinda hate how feyre was a very pro-active character in book 1#who rescues her man and so on#and then just turns into a victim who needs to be saved by her new man#im glad if people can take something from it but i cant#and its not even because i like tamlin cause i did not super care for him until acowar#thrum replies#sorry this is an incoherent ramble. its late here and i should sleep#tl:dr for me these books are fum and engaging but they aren't /good/#so if u are really impressed by them i might not be the right person to speak to
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tweaking over cushion foundation right now we really are in difficult times
#LISTEN i haven't had a good color match in so long but it's in one of these FUCK ASS CUSHIONS#I'm going to sound insane to anyone who doesn't watch too much asian makeup videos but the cushions make me so crazy j get so paranoid about#the foundation going bad. okay. like i keep thinking christ this is going to have so much bacteria it will break me out and i will DIE#and ok i'm ashy as fuck and apparently significantly pale by american/national makeup standards.#it's not like i Can't get a match at all most companies have my shade or something close#EXCEPT. they're all like 200+ bucks#AND STILL LOOK KINDA YELLOW ON ME#i have found such a Good match blind buying literally just whatever foundation was medium coverage and affordablr but it takes like a month#to arrive.#and idfk if i commited User Erros because i've had it for uhh. maybe a month and some. and i use a little almost everyday#and Ok. i'm being crazy but it was starting to feel kinda dry and weird and i'm so upset Alright maybe i did get emotionally attached to#a foundation. i will not pull the oo i'm just a girl card because i hate it i'm admitting how fucking insane it is.#And i'm lowkey scared of taking out the sponge and trying to flip it because Bacteria.
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I keep flip-flopping between loving my current art style and wanting to go back to how I used to draw things and I haaaaate it
#ramblings#like i love how i did certain things in my older pieces#like the lineart and the softer shading#but also thinking back on the process and how long it used to take me to finish fully rendered pieces#it makes me wanna rip my hair out#i feel like i'm slowly losing patience for literally everything#and also. i'm so fucking tired like all the time. i want to draw but i'm exhausted from literally doing nothing#i have ideas but i feel burnt out just thinking abt Actually Drawing and i hate it#not to mention the other stuff going on in my life that's just. draining#god i wish i was normal#neg#this turned into a vent post without me meaning to so. yeah#anyway it's not that i don't like my current style bc i do#but sometimes. i feel like it's a bit of a downgrade in some aspects#like my art has regressed#but other times i'm so happy with it and love it so much i wouldn't change it at all#idk how to feel abt it and i kinda hate that#i'm so tired
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the fif is fif-ing 🎉
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#the app im using doesn't do a full calculation of how long it takes [at least that i can see] but i DID have a timelapse#it just does it in chunks so i had to. math it. ty time website but lil annoying to put the numbers in but oh well#anyways. the actual art#i am NOT ready to draw the jeans#especially the belt#also the sunglasses... augh#those will take me extra longer. head in hands#its going tho!!! which is good#i hope its good at least. I keep flipping between “woah this actually is kinda sick?” and “it looks so off & weird i hate this so so much”#So im biased on both ends pft. Mainly the first tho luckily#praying that doesnt change with the pants & shades tho ough#atlas art wips
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At least I could disable the suggestions but just... I'm sick of it, I'm sick of companies trying to think for me
I'd rather be miserable but doing shit my own way than placid and glass eyed and just taking whatever companies tell me to
Like... literally just asking what I get out of writing a post on tumblr... zero suggestions, just letting me say whatever dumb stuff comes to my head
#the problem is that doing things my way is actually working well; it's just really slow and it's coming from a bad starting point#everything that makes me miserable was even more miserable growing up#you maybe see me and think that I'm doing really horribly; and that may be true; but I'm also truthfully at my peak right now#and frankly as much as I worry about it A LOT; I'm kinda still on the rise in a lot of ways#...I just take way too long to do things; I want to be quicker because a lot of this stuff isn't... it's not being slow and steady#it's being depressed and having trouble working on shit#but... when I do stuff my way the end result tends to be strong#I got a house in 2019 for instance... like in that economy; I feel like that counts as a pretty high roll outcome; you know?#the parts of my life I hate are all... it's like Marley in the Christmas Carol; I've got all these chains around me#and... about 80% of those chains are just my mom or my mom's choices... she blows through so much money all the time#it makes me want to die#but all that shit... it's the past haunting me and drowning me#but shit's better than it was and... I have more friends now that I did in the past; I'm closer to making money than I've been in the past#(part of it is that I kinda want to get shit stabilized in the household; be doing stuff like cooking before I try and sell shit)#(also understand that everyone in high school liked me... we just never saw each other outside of school)#(so it was a situation where I had 'friends'; by that standard everyone at school was a friend)#(but I didn't have a single person I was close with and I was totally isolated in a crowd)#(friend is just a word in english that has to cover a really really wide range of relationships)#(but these days I do have actual friends... just a shame none of us live in the same town... or even state; you know?)#(I like all the people I went to high school with; they all cared a lot and were very bad at it)#(couldn't figure out that like... just give me some company; that's a good 80% of what I'm lacking)#(...I think part of it was they were all stoners and I wasn't; so they felt like... eh... like something something)#(and when I say all stoners I mean... I think... easily 80% of the school; probably 90% and maybe higher were all stoners)#(it uh... was not an easy thing for the staff; cause they obviously all knew; but... figuring out how to best handle it)#(like hell; I wouldn't want to deal with that)#(also like 95% were smokers... you have to understand that most of these kids were rich kids)#(off the top of my head I can only think of 2 other kids who were poor... just... uh...)#(if I named the city the school was in; you'd probably be like 'oh... makes sense')#(I liked everyone there; everyone liked me... just... they were very bad at just basic stuff like spending time together)#(eh... you don't need to hear more)
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ok i am actually so very angry and there's literally nothing i can do to fix it. life keeps going on. she might even be happy. and fuck dude, i'll make sure im happy too, i was a fully developed person before she was in my life and i'll continue to be one without her. but God Damn, the fact that she can just do something so blatantly awful and unfair to me and then run off without any actual repercussions is just so fucking rankling to me.
like perhaps she feels guilty. she said she did when it was all going down. but it was just something she "needed to do". so obviously she didn't feel guilty enough or she wouldnt have done it like that lmaoooo
i really did deserve to have a good solid yell at her. but unfortunately, by the time i did see her in person i just wanted her out of my fucking life. so. no yelling was done, unfortunately.
#speculation nation#the duality of being a deeply resentful and angry person. and being a person that Tries to be mature and peaceful.#like im not gonna actually Do shit even tho i keep wanting to message her just to yell at her some more again#it's like there's a beast in me that keeps yelling for retribution. she wronged me in such a disrespectful and humiliating way#and yet she just gets to walk away like it was nothing? live her life like it was nothing?#be in 'love' with her new 'soulmate' after cutting me off like a rotten limb?#i feel so DEEPLY angry. i want to spit vitriol and fire. i want to dig my claws into her bones. make her really FEEL how i feel.#i want to wander into her dreams and make her experience what i felt. every miserable second of silence.#the humiliation of admitting you might be falling in love only to be told you were never loved at all.#and i want to knee her in the gut and spit in her face and really make her regret ever fucking wronging me#but unfortunately im a stupid fucking pacifist so all the aggression and anger and violence has no FUCKING outlet#ive been. trying to not think about it too much. ive been trying to just live my life. because i dont want her to run my life.#but the anger keeps catching up to me. filtering in when i dont expect it. endless constant fucking thoughts coming back to me#on and on and on and on i live and i eat and i read and i game and i hate and i hate and i hate and i hate and i hate and i HATE AND I HATE#the greatest injustice is that i cannot make her truly feel every single ounce of my resentment and anger#it's so overwhelming i think i could choke on it. and she gets to live her FUCKING happy little life with her stupid fucking 'soulmate'#i hope it collapses around her and she loses her too so she's single and alone and miserable and regretting all of her fucking impulsivenes#she deserves to have it fail after what she did to me. and all i can really do is hope that karma has its fucking kiss for her.#if only curses were real. what i wouldnt give to put some energy into that karmic payback lmfao.#ok . ok ok ok ok love and peace on planet earth. i am shifting out of vitriolic little shit mode.#just had to let some of the steam out. im still angry but i am going to go back to not thinking about it.#i think i should go on a nice long bike ride tomorrow. to decompress and work some of the steam out.#it's something that she can never take from me. something that is so wholly mine. fuck that stupid bitch and fuck her new girlfriend too#...............................ok NOW im shifting out of vitriolic mode. lol#negative/#WAHOOOOOO i am certainly not taking this breakup well. but i dont think anyone would be lmfao.#all things considered i think im doing a pretty great job at handling this breakup.#bc at least im only recounting unrealistic threats and fantasies on my tumblr dot com instead of messaging Any of this to her.#i may kinda want her to read it so that she knows anyways. but i wont message her directly. bc i am Trying to be at least a little mature.#complaining on my tumblr dot com so i dont message my ex with more vitriol. gotta cope Somehow.
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hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT
#9 to 5 by dolly parton starts playing in the background..#literally had to open up shop alone 2day and also was entirely alone for the first 45 min. of my shift so that was already a negative start#to the day + i heard that i can't have my break later than two thirty which is very bad for me bc 1) there'll be a lot of ppl all around me#when i'm eating which i already dislike and 2) like 85% of ppl taking their break around that time are VERY noisy eaters so even worse and#then 3) it'll be really loud in the room as well bc everyone's talking loudly and eating and the cutlery's clanging against plates and such#and also some ppl have actual full-blown arguments with each other in the break room bc half the ppl here hate each other's guts so more#negatives to the day and then on top of that we've had sooooo many annoying customers already today who r just. intent on making u stressed#out and upset and literally will tell u to your face to 'do your job better' like bro...i can easily tell you haven't worked in retail....#also someone hung their clothes on the rack outside the fitting rooms which is where u hang ur clothes when you're DONE fitting them & don'#want them bc they don't fit or don't sit right or u just don't rlly like them after all so if clothes are hanging there we the ppl working#there WILL take them and hang them back in their original places what did u expect to happen?? anyway someone hung the clothes they had#tried on already and did want there and i reached out to take them bc like. that's what we do here..we hang the clothes on the 'discard#rack' back in the store bc else the rack gets stuffed and the woman literally grabbed my arm and said 'those are mine what do u think you'r#doing' LIKE?????? GIRL THE RACK'S THERE FOR A REASONNNN ofc i'm going to assume u don't want them anymore if they're hanging there that's#why it's called the DISCARD rack....also how am i to know those specific clothes are yours HONESTLYYYYYY STFU AND GET OFF ME#ALSO some dude was like (to his child but like. looking at me while he said it.) 'this guy needs a haircut doesn't he' bc my hair is kinda#long and apparently i passed today. LIKE 1st of all kind of a rude thing to say to a stranger innit 2nd of all setting a great example to#your child there just casually commenting on other ppl's looks like that👍 3rd of all jokes on you you wouldn't consider me a guy if#you Knew most likely. thanks for that little zing of glee much obliged <3 but also man just piss off will you. 4th of all my hair isn't eve#that long....like the ends of it are just shy of my shoulders wdym LONG if u knew the long-haired guys i know you'd faint.#anyway. great start of the day. i still have six more hours to go 🥴#ALSO no surprise this always happens but my legs already hurt SOOOOOOOO BADDDDDD :(((((((((((#r.txt
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