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alltheirdamn · 4 months ago

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Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader

Part II

Summary: Joel just can't leave you alone, and you hate it. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, banter and arguing, mentions of guns/violence, smoking, explicit language, sexual tension, brat taming, mild dubious elements, spanking, slapping, choking, rough unprotected piv sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, facial/cum eating, joel doesn't really take no for an answer, lots of angst A/N: I just couldn't get enough of these two. all my love to @lotusbxtch and @mermaidgirl30 for squealing over the filth every single day with me. ride that cowboy girlies, it's worth it ;) Part I

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Your fingers were wet from the condensation rolling off your glass of sweet tea, the steady stream of droplets splattering against your bare thighs. The day had been exhausting; the cattle were abnormally restless and decided to drift too far out in the fields. Hours riding Mac left your legs sore, and honestly, you just wanted to smoke your Marlboros and sip on your tea. With your boots kicked up on the porch railing and a cigarette between your lips, you were blissfully content.

That is, until your peace and quiet were shattered.

Dirt kicked up in the distance, and the steady rhythmic hum of an engine grew louder as it drifted closer to your house. You groaned in frustration, already knowing who to expect. Dear God, was Joel Miller relentless. You reached behind your porch chair, fingers curling around the shotgun propped up against the wood. You warned him.

His beat-up Red Chevy stopped beside your home, and you tracked his movements as he opened the door. Lifting the gun to your eye level, you aimed the barrel toward his truck. Your finger hovered over the trigger, steady and calm. Joel stepped out of the driver's seat, adjusting his belt buckle against his stomach. You wouldn’t kill him; you weren’t that mean, although it was tempting.

One quick pull of the trigger and you sent a warning shot into the side door of his truck, rupturing the metal with a resounding bang. Joel ducked down, letting out a startled grunt before turning his head to inspect the damage. Whipping head toward you, Joel stared you down with narrowed eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he huffed. “That how y’welcome all your visitors?”

“Only the ones who piss me off!” You shouted.

Joel ran a hand down his scruff, swaying in place as if deciding whether to approach you. Do it, you thought. He made one cautious step, and you rewarded him with another cock of your shotgun, the barrel loaded and ready to fire.

“Take it easy, darlin’. I only wanted to come talk,” Joel cautioned, his hands raised in defeat.

“S’nothin’ to fuckin’ talk about, Miller,” you said, your eye squinting down the barrel line.

Each step of his cowboy boots crunched the earth below, slow steps progressing forward. Joel walked to the edge of the porch; his shoulders hiked to his ears and arms still raised as if he were approaching a wild bull. Serves him right to be scared of you. You may have let him get the best of you the first time around, but you wouldn’t let that happen again.

“Can y’put the damn gun down, darlin’?” He barked.

“Can y’take your ass back to your side of the pasture?” You tossed back.

The closer he got, the clearer his features became; the scruffy graying beard with small bare patches against his jawline, the worry lines deeply etched into his tan skin, and those damn brown eyes that plagued your thoughts night and day. You still thought about how soft they were when he looked at you before he left the stables, a kindness that flickered through the amber specks and filtered out that rage. It was truly unfair that such an insufferable man could be so damn handsome.

Joel’s boots knocked against the first step of the stairs, and your grip tightened around the shotgun. His eyes tracked your fingers as they flexed around the metal, your knuckles tense.

“I ain’t take you for the murderin’ type,” he said cooley.

“Reckon you don’t know much ‘bout me to be assumin’ that. Who knows, maybe I got myself a pile of bodies lyin’ in the grass behind my house.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he advanced another step, still testing the waters with you. You rocked back in your chair, propping the heel of your boot on the railing for stability.

“Wanna show me all them dead bodies then, darlin’? Prove that you’re not all bark and no bite?” He smirked.

You angled the shotgun past the side of his head and sent a shot flying out into the yard. Joel flinched hard enough to knock himself into the stair railing, his weight jostling the porch. With a coy grin, you lowered the gun an inch and shrugged your shoulders.

“Can’t show ya’ if you’re dead,” you grinned.

Joel lunged at you, ripping the gun from your hand and tossing it feet away from you. He gripped the back of your chair and drew his face closer, his pupils dilating the longer he glared at you. Rolling your tongue across your teeth, you raised your hand to his neck, drifting it up the scruff under his jaw. A shallow breath exhaled from his lips, and he stared at you in anticipation. Oh, he thought you were going to kiss him? Cute.

With a quick snap of your wrist, you smacked your hand across his cheek before shoving him out of your face. Joel barely moved an inch, your hands smacking into solid muscle that wouldn’t budge. All that softness in his eyes was displaced with an unmistakable sense of rage, his friendliness shattering away as his cheek flushed from the impact.

“Now y’done pissed me off, you fuckin’ brat,” Joel snarled.

His hand shot out to your throat, yanking you from your porch chair and to your feet. His grip was hardly as tight as last time but still forceful enough to render you powerless. Your eyes flickered toward the gun across the porch, so far out of reach and unattainable. You should have shot him when you had the chance.

“Be a good girl and invite me in,” Joel ordered, nodding toward your front door.

You wagged your head back and forth, your lips curled up and ready to spew venom. Joel only brought your face closer, his upper lip twitching under his mustache.

“Do it. Now. Or I swear to God, I’ll make last time look like a goddamn walk in the park.”

“Surprised y’got any sex drive left in you, old man,” you gasped, his fingers tightening around your neck.

“Christ, you fuckin’ infuriate me,” Joel grumbled.

He used his grip on your neck to propel your feet backward, guiding you toward your front door and over the threshold. The heel of your boot snagged on the lip of the door, sending you flailing back, only for him to grab you by the waist and yank you forward into his sturdy frame.

Even with his hand wrapped around your throat, Joel had never looked more gorgeous than he did at that moment. Swimming through the rage inside his eyes was a hint of worry, as if he genuinely thought you’d stumble to the ground. The reaction time of his arm circling your waist and the small exhale of breath off his lips, a quiet I got you in his own way.

The moment dwindled as fast as it came, a flickering flame extinguished somewhere between the threshold and the entryway of your tiny farm home. Joel reverted to his aggressive tendencies, manhandling you onto your worn-down floral sofa. The springs beneath the cushions squeaked under the weight of your bodies as he pinned you down, his face a breath apart from yours.

“You ready to play nice, darlin’? Or am I gonna have to ruin that pussy again just to shut you up?” He questioned.

Your hands grazed over his torso, tracing the outline of his soft stomach and over the buttons traveling up toward the collar of his shirt. You watched Joel’s eyes flutter closed for the briefest moment, only to fly wide open as you sunk your nails into the hair at the nape of his neck. You tugged hard on his salt and pepper hair, enough so that his neck strained back.

“Get the fuck off me, Joel,” you seethed, the words snarling out between your teeth.

“We both know that ain’t fuckin’ happenin’.”

Joel wrangled you over and onto your stomach, his hand still firmly clasped around your throat. He quickly caged your legs in between his muscular thighs, molding your body into the sofa cushions. Half your face was smothered into the dingy couch, your hair tossed in streaks over your eyes and clouding your vision. With his free hand, Joel cupped the curve of your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh that peaked out beneath the cut-off of the denim.

“Y’still got my handprints branded into your ass, darlin?” Joel asked.

He didn’t care to know the answer as he smacked his hand down, the bite of his skin against the fabric sending electric jolts of pain up your spine. Truth was, the bruises he left were still there—yellow, horrid welts that were a ceaseless reminder of last time. You wouldn’t ever admit it, but sometimes you found yourself in the mirror tracing the outline of his fingerprints, fantasizing about his hands on your body.

“Answer me,” Joel commanded.

“Fuck you,” you said, your voice muffled into the couch.

“Always gotta have an attitude, don’t you?”

Joel’s hand connected with your ass again, this time hard enough to elicit a small whimper from your lips. You could deny it all you wanted, but it was making you unbearably wet. You squirmed under his grip, finding some sort of relief within the friction of your shorts. Joel caught onto your movements and chuckled at your lost efforts.

“Got you all riled up, huh? This sweet lil’ pussy need takin’ care of?”

He cupped your sex through your jeans, the roughness of his hand spurring you on even more—stupid body for responding the way it did to this man. Joel pressed his fingers against the seam of the denim, finding your swollen clit hidden beneath. You exhaled loudly, your body sagging further into the cushions as he rubbed rough circles over the aching bundle of nerves.

“Right there, darlin’? That feel good for you?” Joel taunted.

“Mhmm,” you whined.

“You wanna cum for me?”

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back the plea for release. Joel knew what he was doing; he knew you wouldn’t beg. You were too stubborn and too defiant to ever beg for it. At least, not again. But his fingers worked faster—harder—keeping you on the edge of ecstasy the longer you stayed silent.

“C’mon,” he urged. “Ask nicely, and I’ll let you cum.”

You turned your head into the sofa, burying your face into the cushions as you let out a frustrated cry. Fuck this man. Fuck his ability to turn you pliant and easy. Your body bucked against his hand as he worked at you in tantalizing movements, the friction of his palm against your sex becoming dizzying.

“Please,” you muttered, your voice muffled and quiet.

Joel’s hand unwound from your neck, taking its place within the tresses of your hair. A swift tug back, and your eyes strained to meet his as he loomed over you.

“I didn’t hear you,” he growled.

You swallowed thickly, trying to form another plea, but you couldn’t make a sound. Joel tugged on your hair harder, enough to make you cry at the pain. Your nails dug into the couch, and you managed a small please through a strangled moan.

“Too bad, darlin’. Bratty lil sluts don’t get to cum. I just wanted to hear y’beg for it.”

He released his grip on your head, shoving you back down. You groaned in frustration as his hand vanished from between your legs. The couch shifted beneath you as Joel rose to his feet, wandering around your living room and into your kitchen.

“Where’s your smokes?” He asked, rifling through the drawers as if he owned the place.

You lifted yourself, stretching your neck and detangling your hair with your fingers. Your clit painfully throbbed against your panties, your core still fluttering from the phantom orgasm that never came. Joel continued his search, slamming drawers shut and opening cupboards without a care in the world as if he didn’t just have you pinned down and begging for release. The temptation to run out and grab your gun was thrumming inside your veins; just one shot and you’d be free of him. Joel glanced up at the exact moment you shot to your feet, gunning for the door.

“Don’t even think about it, darlin’,” Joel warned.

“You expect me to let you roam ‘round my house uninvited?” You questioned.

“I expect you to be a good host and find me a damn cigarette,” he snapped.

“Well, they’re on my porch. So, if you’ll let me leave for a damn second, I can bring you one.”

Joel leaned against the kitchen counter, considering you with eyes narrowed. You folded your arms over your chest and stared at him, both of you in a silent showdown. With a lift of his chin, he motioned for you to go ahead and retrieve them. Disappearing out onto the porch, you scooped up your pack of reds and lighter, lingering an extra moment as you considered the gun lying on the ground.

“I’m waitin’!” He called from inside.

“Christ, I fuckin’ hate you,” you said, walking back into the house.

Joel had made himself all too comfortable on your couch, his legs spread open and arm lazily draped over the back cushion. You immediately noticed the bulge in his jeans, a telltale sign that he was just as worked up as you were. Tough fucking luck. If he wouldn’t get you off, you wouldn’t help him either.

“Y’ hate me, huh?” Joel asked, his lips curving into a smug grin.

You didn’t respond as you smacked the bottom of the cigarette carton against your palm. Joel flicked his fingers, urging you closer, yet you stayed planted to the ground.

“Gonna give me one of those, darlin’?”

“Why should I?” You huffed. “Y’come into my home uninvited and act like you own the damn place. Actin’ all demandin’ and rude.”

Joel let out a low whistle, rolling his neck back and forth. You continued smacking the carton, your lips set in a firm line.

“What’s rude is tryna kill someone who only came to talk. So, come here and sit.”

“And if I don’t wanna?”

“For one goddamn minute, can y’just not be so fuckin’ stubborn?” Joel huffed.

“Fine.”

You strode toward the couch, aiming to sit beside Joel, only to have him wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his lap. Your thighs pressed against his as you settled into his body, the rugged muscles of his legs flexing beneath you. You were too close to him, too aware of the way his eyes sparkled with rich amber flecks in this nearness. Joel studied you without an ounce of anger as if none of what had happened between you ever existed. It made it terribly hard to continue hating him when he looked at you that way.

“Y’gonna be a good girl and give me a smoke now?” Joel asked.

Rolling your eyes, you removed a cigarette from the carton, offering it to him. Joel only shrugged, parting his lips ever so slightly to invite it into his awaiting mouth. Your fingers brushed against the scruff of his jaw as you placed it between his lips, his mouth quirked up in satisfaction.

“You trust me with a light?” You questioned.

Joel squeezed your waist softly, his other arm still thrown across the couch. You twirled the lighter between your fingers, your thumb rolling over the sparkwheel haphazardly. One good flick of the lighter, and you could send him up in flames—burn your whole house down with him inside, and you’d finally be at peace. He was a ceaseless man with little regard for you or your damn peace, and you were growing tired of entertaining him.

“Light it,” he ordered, the cigarette hanging between his teeth.

You sparked the flame, letting the heat of it ripple over your skin as you brought it to the butt of the cig. The tip ignited with a flicker of embers, the cherry end burning bright as Joel took a long drag. He lifted his hand from the couch—still keeping one firm on your body—and situated the cigarette between two fingers.

“Wanna tell me where y’learned to shoot like that?” He asked, his head tilted to the side.

“My parents. They taught me everything I know,” you admitted.

“Everythin’ aside from manners,” Joel countered.

“Shut up,” you snapped. “I ain’t gonna sit here and let you speak of my parents like that.”

You didn’t like talking about them; the reminder of their absence was sometimes too much to bear. You had so many responsibilities thrown onto your shoulders when they died, and although you took those responsibilities willingly, it didn’t quell the grief still lingering. You didn’t have your parents anymore, but you had their land to care for and their wishes to uphold.

Joel took a sharp inhale from the cigarette, letting the smoke plume between your faces. The stench of smoke was something comforting to you, always had been, but coming from his mouth, it pissed you off.

“Hey, now,” he said softly. “Was only kiddin’, darlin’. Didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”

“Your entire presence strikes a fuckin’ nerve, Joel. Why are y’even here?”

“Like I said, I came here to talk.”

You pulled the cigarette from his lips, taking it to your own and inhaling a long drag. Joel arched a brow, watching as you hollowed your cheeks around it, the flicker of the butt burning brightly in his face.

“Then talk,” you hissed, tilting your head to exhale the smoke.

You leaned back, discarding some of the ashes against the tray on your coffee table. Joel’s hand urged you back to his chest, pinning you closer than you wished to be. You adjusted yourself on his lap, absentmindedly, shifting your body over his hardened cock. Joel choked on a breath, his fingers digging into your waist. Oh. Funny how you had all the power now.

“Talk,” you repeated, grinding your body down against his again.

“I know what you’re doin’,” Joel grumbled.

“Y’gonna talk or what, Miller? I’m waitin’.”

Joel cursed under his breath, grabbing the cigarette from your fingers and returning it to his lips. His eyes never left yours as he drew in a breath, letting the smoke linger inside his mouth a second too long before exhaling. The smoke billowed around your face, and you scrunched your nose in annoyance.

“I wanna negotiate,” Joel offered.

“No.”

It was a quick response, one without a second thought. You wouldn’t even entertain the idea of negotiations. Why? Because there was nothing to fucking negotiate. This land was yours, passed down through generations, and would remain that way. No amount of bitching and moaning from Joel would make you reconsider.

“Y’didn’t even let me finish,” Joel remarked.

“I don’t need to listen to you. I ain’t negotiating my land.”

You reached for the cigarette again, yet Joel suspended it in the air and out of reach. You glared at him, trying to grab his hand to drag it toward you. Joel’s strength outweighed yours, and he had you beat every time you tried aiming for it again. Shoving at his chest, you moved to swing a leg over his lap and climb off, but he dragged you right back to his chest. His hand roamed up your side, curving along your hip and over the swell of your breast. Cupping your face with one large hang, Joel squeezed your cheeks together and forced your lips to part.

You struggled against his grip, your eyes full of rage as you watched him take another drag of the cigarette. With your mouth partially open, he leaned close and blew the smoke over your lips and into your mouth. The fragrant odor of the smoke licked up your nose as you inhaled, your lips inches away from his. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him close. Joel’s eyes bounced between your eyes and lips, the temptation of drawing you closer palpable in his body language. The nicotine buzzed inside your head, and you pulled away from his face right at the same moment he leaned closer.

“Don’t,” you warned, smoke exhaling from your lips.

Joel dropped his hand from your face, a clear shift in his mood arising as you watched his eyes flicker with disappointment. It was all over his face: the furrow between his brows, the downturn of his lips… He wanted to kiss you. You wouldn’t let him, though; that was too much. If he wanted to manhandle you and fuck you however he pleased, that was fine. You welcomed it, actually, because you knew one taste of his mouth, and you’d be ruined. You didn’t want intimacy with Joel, not when your family’s land was hanging in the balance. He’d reel you in with false pretenses and have you aching for more, only to tear it all away.

He cursed under his breath as he pressed his body to yours, leaning forward to discard the cigarette into the ashtray. The bulge beneath his jeans prodded your sex at this angle, eliciting a ripple of pleasure up your spine. A small gasp bubbled out of you as Joel readjusted himself beneath you.

“You don’t wanna talk?” Joel asked, raising his voice. “Fine. Better not say a damn word unless it’s my name while I fuck you.”

In a millisecond, Joel had you pinned down to the couch again, your hair splayed around you and your breath whooshing from your lungs. His fingers worked at the zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your legs and discarding them over his shoulder. Propping a knee onto the couch, Joel undid his belt buckle and freed his cock from the confines of his jeans. Precum glistened on the tip, and he stroked himself slowly as he pulled your legs apart, molding you into the position he desired.

“Only wanna hear y’scream my name. Y’understand that?” He growled.

Joel coated the head of his cock with the slick covering your folds, pushing himself in with one deep thrust. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your body adjusted to his size. This angle was so much different than last time, and you could feel every vein and ridge of his cock rub against your fluttering walls. You focused on your breathing while he plunged deeper, breaking you open and fucking into you with hard thrusts.

Caressing the back of your knee, Joel drew your leg up and over his shoulder, bending you in half until he was spearing into your core.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

You shook your head, whimpering at the sensation of his cock splitting you in half. Searing pain bloomed across your face as Joel’s hand connected with your cheek. Your eyes shot open, tears welling on your waterline, the sting of the pain churning into a wave of pleasure through your core. You forgot how addictive his touch could be when he was angry. His pupils swallowed the entirety of his eyes, a dark, endless abyss staring straight back at you.

“Do. You. Understand?” He grunted between thrusts.

You didn’t respond, a tear slipping down your cheek. The phantom touch of his fingers on your skin lingered still, and your clit throbbed with a sudden flurry of arousal. Joel’s hand wrapped around your jaw, forcing your mouth open. He leaned down, pressing his weight into you as his face neared yours. A trail of spit fell off his tongue and crashed into the back of your throat, and you flinched away from Joel as he pressed harder.

“Swallow, brat.”

You struggled to swallow it; your throat constricted as his grip around your jaw tightened. He plowed into you, drilling your core with violent strokes until a gargled wail left your mouth. His spit slid down your throat, and he hummed in approval.

“Good girl.”

He stretched your other leg up and over his shoulder, your ass lifting off the couch. You wanted to beg him to stop, yet nothing would leave your lips. Not even a sound as the noise of his hips slapping against yours filled the air. The thrum of your heartbeat vibrated through your chest, the pressure inside your stomach growing stronger as you propelled closer to the edge of your orgasm. Every muscle in your body grew taut, your clit aching to be touched…aching for relief from the violent flames lapping at your spine. So close. It was so close you craved for more.

Maybe you didn’t want him to stop.

“If you ain’t gonna listen to me in a normal conversation, then you’re gonna listen now,” he gritted.

You flexed your jaw under his hand, trying to shy away from his piercing stare. You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to listen… didn’t want anything but the opportunity to seek release. You could handle the pain—you welcomed it. The harder he fucked you, the less you had to think. And if you kept thinking, you’d drown in the consequences of your doubt. Keep him angry, you thought. Keep him the enemy. You couldn’t let him be anything more.

“I don’t want your land,” Joel punched out through clenched teeth. “Keep it. I don’t give a shit.”

The buzzing inside your skin dulled out at his words. It was so hard to focus on what he was saying when your mind was melting from the inside out, his cock driving into you with brutal speed. He didn’t want…

“What?” You choked out.

Joel’s hand clamped down on your mouth, muffling your words as he bottomed out and kept himself seated inside you. The rhythm of his thrusts stopped, and he let his hips press into yours as he stared down at your tearful face. You were so fucking full of him you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen,” he snapped.

You muffled out his name, the sound slipping through the space between his fingers. He only pressed harder, your body folded in half beneath his weight. You clenched around his cock, rocking your hips slightly to quell the need curling inside your stomach.

“I ain’t gonna take your land from you, ‘kay? All I’m askin’ for is permission to come ‘round without you tryna kill me.”

No. The word was lost inside the palm of his hand. You wanted your land, and you wanted Joel gone. You didn’t trust him when he said he didn’t want your land. How could you trust him when he had you pinned to the sofa?

“This is what’s gonna happen,” Joel offered, snaking a free hand down between your legs. “You’re gonna agree with me and let me come and go as I please. Then maybe I’ll let you cum.”

Calloused fingers circled your clit, forcing a cry from your mouth. Tantalizing, slow draws over your sensitive bud pulled desperate sounds out of you, each one of them stifled against his warm hand. Joel worked himself into shallow thrusts, pulling out to the tip and driving right back into you. You couldn’t fend off the orgasm bubbling under the surface, the nerves inside you lighting on fire.

“Please!” You screamed between his fingers.

Joel’s lips twisted into a sneer, beads of sweat rolling down his temples as he pressed his fingers harder against your clit. Your eyes glossed over with fresh tears as you fought off the impending release rolling through your body.

“Say it.”

Your back arched off the couch as you chased the strokes of Joel’s fingers. Circling and circling… You were so close to the threshold of ecstasy, and you knew he’d tear it away from you if you didn’t relent.

Joel ripped his hand from your mouth, tangling in the hair at the crown of your head. He forced your eyes down to where your bodies connected, your focus on his cock as it disappeared inside you.

“Y’wanna cum on my cock, darlin’?” Joel taunted.

“Fuck! Please, Joel!” You gasped.

With your chin tucked into your chest, your legs dangling over his shoulders, and his cock spearing into your core… you couldn’t hold back your orgasm any longer.

“Say it!” Joel commanded.

“Okay!” You sobbed. “Just let me cum, Joel! Please!”

Joel assaulted you with a repetition of thrusts, each stronger than the last, until your orgasm exploded through your body. His name tore from your lips as your back curved off the couch and your legs squeezed around his neck. He kept his thumb circling your clit, your orgasm never ceasing to end as the inferno burned inside your core. Wet, hot arousal gushed out of you, splattering onto Joel’s navel and staining his denim shirt. His eyes flicked up to yours, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“Look at the mess you’re makin’. Just drenchin’ my fuckin’ cock.”

“Joel!” You whined, squirming against his hand.

“Nuh uh, darlin’. Wanna see how messy y’can get. Keep goin’.”

He released his grip on your hair, forcing your head to fall against the arm of the sofa. Shuffling his knees forward, Joel continued his brutal thrusts until your arousal sprayed around his cock and dripped down the seam of your ass. There wasn’t enough air in your lungs as you alternated between screaming his name and begging him to stop.

“Since y’wanted to cum so goddamn bad, you’re gonna keep takin’ my fuckin’ cock ‘til you ruin this damn couch,” Joel grunted.

You were crying… hard. Your mind was on the precipice of hysteria as waves of your orgasm bolted through your veins. Lewd sounds of his body slapping against your wetness echoed through the room, the cushion beneath you soaked from your arousal. You attempted to claw yourself backward and away from Joel, but his grip was violent, and he only yanked you closer.

“I can’t—I can’t anymore!” you sobbed. “Please, Joel…please.”

“Gimmie one more,” he demanded.

You shook your head in protest, your sobs hiccuping inside your chest. Your core was too fucked out, your clit was painfully sensitive, and you were sitting in a pool of your arousal. How did Joel manage to turn the events of the day around in his favor? You had control at the start—you had the gun— but now he had you folded in half and strewn out in a heap of tears.

“I can’t!” You wailed. “Too much—too much…”

“Poor thing,” Joel taunted. “Always beggin’ for it but can’t take it.”

You writhed beneath him, your body twisting and bending to alleviate the painful sensations rolling through your nerve endings. This was it; this was how you died. Drunk on pleasure and torn apart by the man you wanted to hate.

Another orgasm tore through your body, consuming you from the inside out. Your scream pierced through the air, and you collapsed into the cushions, soaked with sweat and tears. Joel made a strangled noise above you as your sex clamped down around his cock, no doubt pulsating harder than it had the last several orgasms. His cock slipped from inside you, leaving you hollow and aching to be filled again. Your body craved the fullness, yet you sagged with relief knowing he stopped.

“C’mere,” Joel grunted.

He slung your legs off his shoulders and yanked you down the couch by your ankle. Positioned over your face, Joel stroked his cock above you, his fingers glistening from the arousal that stuck to his velvety skin.

“Open that fuckin’ mouth, darlin',” Joel urged.

Your head was so hazy you hardly registered his words. Parting your lips, you whined softly and stared at him…waiting. Joel’s eyes connected with yours, that deep furrow in his brow more prominent than before. Rage still sparked behind his eyes, but in your delirium, you saw more. You saw right past his facade, just as he saw right past yours. Whatever terror etched itself into your features, it caught his attention, but he was painting your lips and face with his release before he could decipher it. Hot ropes of cum spattered against your lips, the salty taste covering your tongue as it trailed into your mouth. Remnants of his release coated your chin and neck, warm reminders of his futile efforts at staking his claim.

He hadn’t claimed you, no matter how hard he fucked you. You wouldn’t let him claim you. And you most certainly wouldn’t let him claim your land.

Joel slid his finger through the mess along your neck, scooping his cum onto the pad of his finger and dragging it across your lips.

“So fuckin’ pretty all covered in my cum,” he praised.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, though your words meant shit, as you rolled your tongue over your bottom lip.

Joel gave you a soft grin, smoothing down your hair and cleaning the mess off your face with one hand. The same hand that had inflicted pain just moments ago, the hand that brought you to release more times than you could physically endure.

But now the touch was soft—caring, even. And that frightened you more than the violence he showed when he was provoked. It was this side of Joel that made you scared, and you wanted to run as far from it as you could.

“Let’s get you up, darlin’,” Joel said, hoisting you by the shoulders until you sat under his shadow.

He massaged your legs as you swung them over the couch, attempting to relieve the tension within your muscles. You shrunk away, standing on unbalanced limbs, and distanced yourself from his wandering hands.

“I need a shower,” you decided. “Y’can see yourself out.”

“I ain’t done talkin’ to you.”

“Well, I’m done fuckin’ talking!” You argued.

You spun on your heel, your hands clenched at your sides. Joel’s eyes stayed focused on you as he worked at stuffing his cock back into his jeans. Half-naked before him, you felt a million times smaller than you had when he arrived.

“Why are you so hateful?” He questioned, rising to his feet.

Your lips curled up, a slew of spiteful words dancing on the tip of your tongue. But Joel wasn’t finished.

“This is your land,” he said, stepping closer. “I ain’t gonna argue that anymore ‘cause it’s a lost cause. And I ain’t tryna steal it from you. I can promise you that.” Another step closer. “So, why do y’hate the idea of me comin’ around?”

“Because I hate you,” you responded.

“You hate me, huh? Is that how y’feel ‘bout me when I’m pullin’ orgasms from your body? ‘Cause I think you fuckin’ love it. You love bein’ fucked by me. You get me all riled up ‘cause y’know what’s comin’ for you.”

“I hate you,” you repeated.

Joel lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek with a featherlike touch. You wanted to shy away, but you were too tired to move.

“I don’t think y’hate me at all, darlin’,” he whispered.

He leaned closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding off another round of tears brimming over the surface. Pushing your hands against his chest, you shoved Joel away, your body staggering back with the force of your action.

“Get the hell outta my house,” you cried, no longer keeping the tears at bay.

Joel stared at you with a pained expression, his eyes searching through your glassy eyes for the falter within your words. He didn’t budge; he didn’t move an inch. You shoved at his chest again, but it was no use as he wrangled you into his arms and lifted your chin to meet his eyes.

“When are you gonna quit fightin’ me?” He asked softly.

It was a sincere question; you saw it swimming behind the rich chocolate of his irises. Pleading. Begging. He wanted the truth, but you wouldn’t give in. You couldn’t.

“I’ll quit fightin’ when y’learn to leave me alone.”

“What if I don’t wanna?”

He was a breath away from your lips, the rich scent of farmland wafting off his skin as it mixed with the smell of sex. It was intoxicating being this close—close enough to wonder what his lips would feel like on yours. While your body ached for him in one way, your heart ached differently. It was an ache you wanted to keep fighting because the moment you lost that battle, you’d lose everything.

“I don’t want you comin’ here anymore, Joel.”

“Why?” he pressed.

Silence blanketed over you, weighing down the words lodged in your throat. The rapid beating of your heart matched his as he kept you tight to his chest. You were suffocated by the emotions you couldn’t say, and you were slowly sinking further down.

You struggled against the arm that bound around your waist, helplessly trying to break free of his hold. He finally relented in defeat, letting you shuffle back until there was a healthy gap between your bodies. Running a hand down the scruff on his chin, Joel gave you a simple nod and retreated toward the front door.

“Until you can give me a reason, I’m gonna keep comin’ back.”

He left without a glance over his shoulder, the room around you shrinking in size without his presence looming over you. Searching for your shorts, you quickly dressed and hid behind the window curtains as you watched his truck rumble to life and speed down the dirt roads. There was no goodbye between you, and you knew there wouldn’t be. Joel wasn’t giving up, no matter how hard you pushed him away, and eventually, he’d win.

And you hated knowing the truth.

Behind the billowing dirt trail of his truck, Joel watched as your house faded from view. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel as he thought about the way he left. He was doing this for fun; at least, that’s what it felt like at the start. Getting on your nerves, pissing you off, seeing you completely unraveled underneath his hands, Joel loved it. He loved the thrill of having you tamed down and quiet, compliant to anything he asked and did.

Then he had you pinned underneath him, and he saw the fear in your eyes. You weren’t scared of him. You were scared of the emotions electrifying between the both of you. Then you pulled away from him, denying him any affection, and he fucking hated it.

He couldn’t understand why you got under his skin the way you did, nor why he cared so much. It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, yet Joel wanted to keep tearing down your walls. He wanted to hear you tell him the truth.

He wasn’t going to stop until he got it.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x reader #tlou #cowboy!joel #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #smut #mini series #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou

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fawnpires · 1 year ago

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DAD’S BEST FRIEND — KÖNIG.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: age difference, cunnilingus, loss of virginity, innocence kink, könig's a massive pervert (still love him tho), groping, size difference & kink, panty kink, unprotected sex, praising, filmed sex, fingering, teasing, spreading the older man könig agenda.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ notes: finally got the motivation to write something again and i literally feel so bad for not writing anything, so i wrote a lil something for my bby könig.

༉‧₊˚.— DBF!KÖNIG who enjoyed every single second of being your first time. he was practically infatuated with you—his best friend's pretty little daughter. when your father is another one of those high-ranking colonels along with könig, expect to find him being invited over almost every single day of the week for a simple drink with your father or a casual invitation to dinner. although unbeknownst to your father, there were times with könig that were deemed too debauched when it was just the two of you alone. one particular instance is when he snuck into your bedroom, your father off to sleep with the house to yourself, and könig. once you and him were kept in those four confining walls of your room, the door closed and only the lamp shade providing a minimum of dim lighting; the next thing you knew your legs were thrown and settled on top of the broad slopes of his shoulders, both of his large hands intertwined with your smaller ones while pinning them down to the surface of your mattress. sensual moans laced with softness spilling, at this point, without shame past your parted lips. the thrusts of his ample cock were carried with a firmness yet a loving, comfortable passion into your tightened sopping cunt, knowing that it was your first being so intimate with somebody. "try to relax, mein liebling. you're doing so good, and for your first time too, taking me in all at once like this - taking me all in like the sweet little girl you are."

༉‧₊˚.— DBF!KÖNIG was a sucker for everything about you. from your sweet and innocent personality, to your alluring exterior appearance. his favorite part about you was especially the fact that he was so much larger than you, both in height and that built-up military strength earned from his time spent as a colonel. his favorite thing to do was manhandle you into all kinds of different positions once you and him had settled into the routine of casual fuck sessions in secrecy, observing how the bare aspect of your pretty body curved and contorted while he fucked into you. his favorite perspective is when you're laying on your back, legs sprawled on either side of his torso while those hands of his kept a solid grasp on your waist to pull you back and forth on his cock. this never failed to force you into a state of mind where you were drunk on nothing but how his immense size relentlessly pounded into you without mercy. he can't help but allow a cocky smirk to sweep across his lips underneath his sniper hood at your state, temporarily raising the bottom edge of the veil to his nose before inclining the upper half of his body over you to rest his head in the crook of your neck; mouth pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-soaked skin of your neck in contrast to his violent thrusts before speaking in a husky tone, "who would've thought my best friend's daughter would be the best fuck of my life? you're truly a special girl, engel. very special." he comments breathily with a light chuckle that was so full of depth. “such a cockdrunk slut, huh?” his words barely registering in your fucked-out mind.

༉‧₊˚.— DBF!KÖNIG constantly finds ways to have his hands on you. sometimes his touches were innocent and loving in the sense—hands resting at your hips, his head leaning downwards to nuzzle the side of his head against yours, or just a simple caress of your hand against the back of his own. but knowing how perverse he was at the same time behind that sweetness. for multiple instances, it wasn't abnormal to find him groping and kneading at the soft, supple flesh of your tits or reaching beneath your skirt and that additional layer of panties to rub at your slick folds teasingly with his calloused fingertips in private or not. he never lets down on his praises though, his fingers would be knuckle-deep and thrusting rapidly in the warmth of your cunt and he would talk to you throughout it, "such a needy girl, hase. just couldn't keep my hands off of you, not when you've got the prettiest damn body i've ever seen." he praises through heavy breaths, his free lovingly rubbing circles into your side while you lost yourself in this spiral of arousal.

༉‧₊˚.— DBF!KÖNIG who's well aware how much of a perv he is. to his surprise, he pockets various kinds of your pretty panties either after giving you a good fuck or sneaking into your bedroom unabashedly—relishing in the concept at how confused you would be when you couldn't find them anywhere. instead those panties would be swathed around the throbbing length of his cock while he pumped at himself to the thought of you late at night in privacy; legs spread, his head angled backwards, near-animalistic grunts spewing from his throat, and pre-cum dripping down from the slit at the tip while it decorated the soft lace in a thin, white layer of sticky fluid. underneath that t-shirt sniper mask, his face sheeted over with slick sweat as the heat surrounding inside the cloth mask only piled on with his increasing arousal which ends up with his cum splattered all over your panties. it's not really a surprise anymore if you find somehow find your missing panties returned hanging off the edge of your laundry basket, a little messy reminder of him left in them.

༉‧₊˚.— DBF!KÖNIG adores how you look on camera. he'll take you out and rent some motel room for the night, or two if he's feeling special, and you'll find yourself pinned down onto the fresh crisp sheets of the mattress; one of his hands holding both your wrists right above your head, the other holding his recording phone firmly as it was aimed down at you under him. with bare thighs pressed up into the plush of your breasts, he positions the phone on a nearby pillow to hold it up just so he could sloppily eat out with your cunt, spit and all, with his mouth pursing around your swollen clit and his fingers rubbing circles into your dripping folds—creating a perfect angle to showcase both you and him in such a vulgar yet erotic manner. könig then picks up the phone once more as he finishes you off, holding it once more as he spreads your orgasm-slick thighs apart so he could pound his cock away into the tightness of your pretty cunt. every moan, every sound of skin against skin, every touch, is kept solely on that phone of just for him to relieve some stress while he's away from you and your lingering on that mind of his. "look at you, liebchen, like my own lil' personal pornstar. god, i can never get enough of you. look at the camera, baby, eyes on me. it's like you were made for it."

༉‧₊˚.— DBF!KÖNIG who was your first time for everything. first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. he can't help but feel a small amount of possessiveness over you knowing that, especially when guys around your age try to make some kind of shitty move on you. he relishes in the fact that he's the only one who could bring you to such heights of sensual pleasure, knowing just the right locations to touch you that caused you to writhe and whimper in the sweetest tones. you had a type of romance with him that you would only see in films, knowing that your father was always the strict type when it came to you and guys getting their hands on you. it wasn't a surprise when you found yourself feeling like the prettiest girl when könig would treat you so much better than boys your age; constantly bringing affection in the form of sweet physical contact while also treating you like his personal fleshlight when he was in need for some stress relief—drawing intense, messy orgasms after orgasms that would be leaving you whimpering and strangely in need for more of him. "könig..." you whined weakly, on the brink of a fourth orgasm with his pounding twitching cock buried between your trembling pulsing walls as you gave könig the most pleading and exhausted gleam in your eyes. it made you sound desperate, like a slut. "i know, engel. just a little bit more, baby. give yourself all to me."

#♡ fleur’s writings.#könig x reader #könig x fem reader #könig x you #könig smut #cod mw2 fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw2 #konig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig modern warfare #cod mw2

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sweetlittlefawntears · 5 months ago

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sweet lamb ♱

au : i got a request for this but it was not how i imagined it so i just … kinda changed a few things lol … um yea enjoy this one it could definitely b better … there is some sensitive topics in this one that may be triggering to some people, please read the content warning and proceed with caution .

cw : dacryphilia, stealing, pet names, hair pulling, fingering, ellie is kinda a perv in this one as well as a bit mean/degrading, intentional lowercase !! reader is described as having long hair … i think that's it erm

wc : 1.6k ♡

౨ৎ for as long as you could remember, your brother had always had a best friend. ellie williams. they were attached at the hip, always laughing and play fighting over video games and going on stupid adventures which almost always involved them sneaking out late at night. as much as you loved your brother, you absolutely hated ellie.

౨ৎ she would always go out of her way to exclude you in anything they were doing, insisting that you were too stupid or dumb or annoying or whatever to participate in whatever bullshit they were getting up to. not that you truly cared, you were too busy studying or hanging out with friends to genuinely want to get all up in their business.

౨ৎ as much as ellie feigned her hatred for you, she truly wanted you to be all hers. she loved when you cried from her insults. it was the saddest and sweetest thing ever. she couldn’t explain why she was the way she was, but she loved being able to have power over your emotions like she did.

౨ৎ ellie loved to sneak up behind you to scare you, pulling at your hair or poking your shoulder, which made you practically jump out of your skin every time she did it unannounced. “fuck you ellie, don’t scare me like that!” you’d yell as she burst out laughing. she often would pull on your hair if you wore it in braids, which you gradually stopped doing.

౨ৎ one night, when you were in the shower, ellie slipped into your room and walked around, going through your drawers and all the trinkets she saw on your desk. she pulled out a pair of pink cotton panties from a cubby with bras and underwear in it and slipped them into her back pocket.

౨ৎ you come out of your shower, hair wet and wearing nothing but a cropped band tee and a small pair of short tight fitting boxers. “what the fuck are you doing in my room?” you say as you brush through your hair. “uh…sorry.” ellie says as she walks out. you don’t really pay any mind to it, thinking ellie was just trying to scare you.

౨ৎ ellie often sees you changing outside your window, not bothering to shut the curtains because you thought no one could see you. when she saw you in your small lacy dress, she almost fainted from blushing. she gazed over your body, when she noticed she could see the faint outline of your tits. she desperately wanted to be in that room with you.

౨ৎ ellie often took your underwear or clothes, which would suddenly just show up in your room again, and you’d be happy to see them, wondering where they had gone. ellie thought it was a miracle you didn’t question where your clothes kept going, because she wasn’t exactly an expert at hiding things.

౨ৎ ellie wanted to do something to get you closer to her. so, one night, she and your brother ask you to watch a movie with them. you are surprised they even invited you in the first place, but you assume your brother beat a little sense into ellie and made her invite you. however, ellie has a plan. she and your brother watch a terrifying movie, which she knows you hate.

౨ৎ before you know it you’re sitting very close to ellie, not even noticing how her hand slips under your shirt, touching your side, comforting you. it was abnormal to feel safe around ellie, but you didn’t question it because it was nice to not be fighting with her for once.

౨ৎ speaking of fighting, ellie often joins in on play fights with you and your brother as just an excuse to grope your ass or tits. you don’t pay it any mind, and ellie thinks it��s cute how you whine when she pins you down and huffs that she always wins.

౨ৎ one night, as ellie makes her way out of your house after a long night of goofing with your brother, she sees you, lying in bed, long hair covering your face as you lay on top of the sheets, with a pillow cradled by your arms.

౨ৎ ellie steps into your room quietly and watches you sleep. she tucks your hair behind you ear. “you know, you really shouldn’t sleep with that door open…you never know what someone could do…” she whispers gently. she kisses your forehead before leaving.

౨ৎ over the next few weeks, ellie seems to warm up to you. you were super suspicious, she was definitely up to something. she came over almost every night, and on saturday she walked into your room. “what do you want, ellie?” you say as you look at her from the chair you’re sitting at. she sits down on your bed, ruffling the sheets. “y’know, if you keep walking around the house in outfits like that, people will think you’re a slut.” she smirks at you. “wow, you really know how to treat a girl, don’t you ellie?” you say as you turn back to your work on your laptop.

౨ৎ “wanna come watch a show with us?” ellie says. “…are you playing at something here?” you say, looking her up and down. “no, seriously, just come watch something with us. it’s so pathetic to see you study on a saturday night.” she says while grabbing your forearm and helping you out of your chair.

౨ৎ ellie and your brother had been watching a true crime documentary about a serial killer, which totally terrified you to the point where you were talking to your brother about it. “i mean, seriously, how can someone do that to someone else? that is seriously fucking creepy, i wish i hadn’t watched that, now i’m really fucking paranoid-” you trail off as ellie leans against your doorframe. “listen, if you’re scared, i can sleep with you tonight.”

౨ৎ you didn’t like the idea of her sleeping with you, but your brother cut in. “shit, ellie, i don’t have a bed for you tonight unless you wanna sleep on the couch. i totally forgot to tell you.” ellie looks at your apprehensive face and starts to talk before you interrupt her. “no, it’s fine. she can sleep here. it’ll be uncomfortable on the couch anyway.” ellie smiles to herself as your brother walks back to his room.

౨ৎ after a while, you find yourself and ellie talking as she puts her hand around your shoulder. “you okay?” she says. “yeah…jus not used to you acting like this.” you say as you look into her emerald green eyes. “cmere.” she helps you into her lap, so your back is pressed against her chest.

౨ৎ ellie slowly reaches up your shirt as you grab her forearm. “you okay with this?” she says as she runs her slender fingers along your abdomen. “yeah…” you whisper as she runs her fingers along the top of your shorts.

౨ৎ ellie reaches into your panties as she kisses your shoulder. “shh..just, let me take care of you bun.” she slowly slides your shorts off and throws them to the side before reaching back into your lace trimmed underwear. she runs a finger along your slit, before teasing your pearl. you whine out as she continues to trace small circles along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

౨ৎ “cmon, you want it, don’t you?” she says as she guides a finger down into you. you whine as she grabs your thigh with her free hand. she slides another finger into you before pounding in and out, touching and feeling up your gummy walls. you moan loudly before clasping a hand over your mouth. “shh, don’t want you brother to know you’re being a little slut for me, do you?”

౨ৎ she continues to thrust into you, groaning as you pant and whine, begging for release. “cum whenever you want, pup.” you don’t need her to tell you twice, finishing all over her fingers as she slows down to let you ride out your high, she brings her fingers swiftly to her mouth to taste you, praying you won’t notice.

౨ৎ she lets you lie down on your pillow, grabbing a fresh pair of panties from your drawer before sliding them up on you. you grab her by the sweater she was wearing before sloppily kissing her. she deepens the kiss before pulling back. “cmon, bun. you must be sleepy.” you shake your head but eventually resign to sleeping with her cradling you in her arms.

౨ৎ months go by, and fucking ellie is a regular thing for you. your brother is none the wiser, and ellie always sleeps in your room. ellie can’t keep her hands off of you, even when your brother is right next to you. when you three are watching a movie, her hands trail under the blanket you two share to touch your inner thigh, dangerously close to your panties. you always try to get ellie to stop, but you two end up going back to your bedroom in a rush, ready to leave your brother sitting on the couch alone wondering what the fuck you two could possibly be doing.

౨ৎ ellie never misses a chance to watch you from your window, sneak glances at you as you get out of the shower, or even touching your ass as she walks behind you, right in the middle of your kitchen. it’s safe to say she now loves you a lot more than your brother.

♡ haiii okay so this fic has been in the back of my mind for a while i wish it was better but oh well um ,, i feel it’s very unrealistic and i didn’t do a good job portraying ellie but oh well . i wanted to release another fic today n i rlly rlly hope u guys will like this one , have a good day or night n thank u sm if ur here reading this !! if ur still here please send me fic requests i’m having writers block lmao ♡

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #fluff #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #smut

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enha-stars · 9 months ago

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✧ how he loves you

pairing: soft!sunghoon x reader (fluff)

summary: sunghoon never really believed in love until he was in it, and now that he was, it was everything.

a/n: thank you for 400 followers! this was inspired by something i wrote on my other blog for sakusa kiyoomi (don't ask)

love was powerful; it was strong and capable of change, and sunghoon learned that with you. he firmly believed that love could change someone.

because it changed him.

sunghoon never considered love, not really. he liked himself enough but he had never truly loved himself. his entire life, people had told him how talented he was and how handsome he was, but he never truly accepted any of the claims.

despite his own turmoil, sunghoon loved you. god, he loved you. he loved you more than life; more than the tide loved the moon, more than the plants loved the sun. he loved you more than he ever thought possible.

and you loved him. god, did you love him. you loved him so much that he had no choice but to love himself just as much. or at least, he tried to.

he had always hated his fangs; his pointy canine teeth that always made his smile look abnormal. but when you poked them, smiling when they made an appearance, mumbling about how adorable and boyish he looked, sunghoon had no choice but to start loving them.

he had hated his beauty marks; hated how they were scattered across his face in an organized manner. but when you first kissed them, telling him that “they’re beautiful, hoonie. just as you are” he no longer wanted to scratch them off. all he yearned for now was the days that you sat on his lap and pressed small kisses to the marks on his cheek and nose while playing with his fingers.

sunghoon was absolutely, hopelessly, completely, passionately, insanely, and desperately in love with you.

and anyone who had the chance to look at both of you together, would know.

perhaps the most surprising day of his members’ lives was when they stumbled upon the soft moments between you and sunghoon and had the opportunity to see the way he truly loved you; feverishly and fondly.

one evening, heeseung had come to practice half and hour early and when he stepped into the practice room, his eyes landed on you and sunghoon in the middle of the barely lit room. you spoke animatedly about something. he watched curiously as sunghoon gently twirled you in circles, smiling when you broke into giggles mid sentence. heeseung’s jaw fell to the floor when you began to twirl sunghoon, trying your best as you stood on your toes and he could only laugh.

jay had witnessed sunghoon’s love for you when he found him in the dorm’s kitchen, trying to cook you a full course meal because you had a bad day. jay could only stand there with wide eyes as three videos played simultaneously, guiding sunghoon on a single recipe. he watched carefully as sunghoon danced around the kitchen, smiling when his friend added the wrong ingredients with confidence.

jake had seen sunghoon’s love for you when sunghoon had come into practice with his hair braided, not a single care as the rest of the members stared at him. sunghoon was very possessive about his hair; it being one of the only things he liked best about himself. and to have you braid it–touch it–jake was amazed. even he couldn’t touch sunghoon’s hair without a slap to the hand.

the younger members had witnessed sunghoon’s overwhelming love for you after a concert, when he jumped off stage and you ran to him, jumping into his arms. jungwon’s mouth was already agape at the sight of someone touching sunghoon in public. riki and sunoo’s eyes widened when sunghoon pressed a kiss to your lips. it was quick, but visible. he was just so happy, and he didn’t mind the audience.

sunghoon loved you in the most selfless way possible; by unconsciously loving himself.

he loved you by coming to terms with himself, realizing that he had so much to offer when you were perfectly happy with who he was, with what he gave you.

park sunghoon loved you with his whole heart, and then some.

laying next to you now, sunghoon had never felt more loved. with your head resting in the crook of his neck and your hand on top of his heart as you pressed soft kisses to his jaw, sunghoon was absolutely sure that you loved him the way he loved you.

your love had changed sunghoon, and in return, he loved you with everything he had.

a/n: @pprodsuga for you <3

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naitfall · 29 days ago

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Monster. A monster he was called his entire life. His soldiers, those he’d sacrifice his life for, would openly question his humanity. Some would doubt the existence of his human heart, malicious and bitter at the loss of the comrades they couldn’t save, searching for a culprit that’d passively take the blame. Others were delusional, claiming he wasn't mortal, wouldn’t die in battle, his life not endangered like theirs, for desperately wanting to believe in his strength, in his ability to survive when all hope was lost, so he could carry their dying wishes to the end. A monster he had been, to those in the underground as well. This boy is a monster. Stay away from him. This man isn’t human. Whether he used his blade to slice one’s throat, or a titan’s neck, whether he fought in the name of humanity, or to protect his family, to kill and protect, were one and the same — his talent, a curse, his extraordinary ability to KILL. To always be looked at with eyes that spoke of both awe and terror.

Levi didn't often speak, he listened, listened to the loud conversations of those he was interested in, whether they spoke of a bunch of bullshit or deep matters beyond his comprehension. Ever since returning from Shinganshina, ever since the sacrifice of their commander and the majority of the survey corps, nothing had remained the same, the once comforting short breaks of silence, having turned to long never-ending disturbing periods of time. Even Hange, the loudest of them all, had grown quiet. Levi disliked pointless talk and never actively sought to start a conversation. Yet, Oda’s presence offered the peace of mind to listen to himself clearly, and say what’s been on his mind— a rare occasion of vulnerability (vulnerability in Levi’s understanding). He didn’t value most opinions. Anyone had one of their own, and all of them held part of the truth with it. But he wanted to hear Oda’s thoughts.

In his eyes, or the eyes of others? ❝ Beats me. No perception is anywhere close to reality. ❞ There was another question he should have asked instead: What to call a man who was ready to sacrifice their humanity for the cause that’d give their life meaning and purpose?

A monster they called Erwin, yet Levi had never seen him as one. No monster, nor human. A deceiving creature, his nature wrapped in mystery. He had followed him, because he couldn’t understand him, couldn’t slice through flesh, see what rested inside of him. How had he, even if unwillingly, looked down on him, humiliated him, when Levi screamed and cried for the loss of everything that had ever mattered to him. Where those eyes of his stare at? How could he keep on fighting when everything was lost? Unbeknownst to Levi when he decided to join him, how utterly human he had been, chasing his own childish dream. ‘When he finds nothing really worth protecting anymore, succumbing to the ugliness of it all.’ Maybe, what made a man a monster, was to live devoid of any hope and dreams. Maybe, Kenny was right all along. They all needed to be drunk on something, to call themselves human. Maybe Erwin would have truly become a monster if he had let him live, and reached that dream of his.

He wouldn’t regret his choice. Not ever.

Satisfied with the answer, he took a sip of his tea, finally meeting with Oda’s eyes, less troubled than he was a moment ago. ❝ I don’t think you do. I sure as hell don’t. ❞ Because Oda wouldn't be intimidated by the darkness of the human soul, familiar to it as much as he was, and yearning to explore its depths.

@naitfall asked:

❛ When does a man become a monster? ❜ ( . . . for Oda? 👉👈 I had to )

"In his eyes, or the eyes of others?" He questions, looking down his glass as if it was a barrel of a gun - no fear, but a whole sea of regrets. He has a sense where the question is coming from, but hesitates to make sure. Not that he's that scared of Levi or worried for him. It was more of a self-centred concern. Once the topic is breached, they'll never be able to pretend it wasn't. Oda least of the both of them; once he got the wheels turning there was no stopping until he reached the conclusion that felt right, a way to proceed. Tempting as it was to put that off for a day or two more, sit in the stillness of it all for a while, it was already too late.

The question was asked, and demanded an answer.

„Maybe when he no longer grieves having to make a distinction between those who he will protect with his life, and those who he won't. The distinction between those who he'll fight to protect, and those who'll die for it. Or, you know what, maybe later still? When he finds nothing really worth protecting anymore, succumbing to the ugliness of it all. Unable to see and feel anything but the darkness of his own doing.” He took a big gulp of tea to prevent his throat closing down on him. And though his expression became wholly pain-stricken, he still forced a little smile by the end. „What makes you think I would know?”

#gyofukuki #( i love this so much )#( i've been staring at this draft for so long. never satisfied with my response )#( i truly apologize for how ridiculously long this is )#( but my heart for them!!!! let oda and levi have conversations befause they'd exchange the most interesting ones!! )#( both know the best and the worst of humanity and their own self. they're the best to exchange ideas about humanity and life )#( except levi doesn't talk... because he's levi. )#( but let him listen to oda. he loves it. let him read his writing )#—◆ thread | the absurd hero’s refusal to hope becomes his singular ability to live in the present with passion #—◆ ic | that means i'm abnormal. . . probably because i've seen far too many abnormal things #—◆ post shinganshina | the loneliest moment in one’s life— when they watch their life fall apart and all they can is stare blankly #—◆ tba. ft. oda sakunosuke.#—◆ tba. levi & oda.#—◆ tba. oda sakunosuke (gyofukuki).

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zkaus · 6 months ago

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At the back of my copy of The Vampire Armand, there's an old interview with Anne Rice talking about creating that novel. I've never forgotten her answer to one of the questions... It haunted me for years.

It gives incredible insight into how and why she wrote such beautiful, brutal and broken characters, and what she endured in the creation process.

BUT before you read this, I'm going to STRONGLY warn you, it goes to very very DARK places

Q: What are your work habits for a novel?

A: Once I truly begin to write, I work obsessively, in twelve-hour days, punctuated by days of long sleep and vivid dreaming. Starting time and ending time are no longer important. I might begin at 9 A.M., or after noon or at eight in the evening. I go from there. I turn on the computer and write, write, write.

My room is a mess. Notes are scribbled on the walls so that I can look up at them at the appropriate moments and insert the date, the name, whatever, when I need it. Books are stacked so high that people have to search for me when they come into the room. Opened books with marked-up pages are stacked on top of one another.

I become suicidal. I go through a horrid despair some time or other before the final page, during which everything seems meaningless—from the dawn of history to the very hour in which I am writing.

I’m intolerable to live with. But I spread myself thin over a number of loved ones and staff members so that no one person has to put up with how intense, hysterical, and miserable I am.

When I get elated and talk fast and furiously about wonderful aspects of history or the characters, or good developments in the story, people run away from me. I don’t blame them.

While the novel is being written, I try to avoid dressing for outdoors. No one can make you go out if you don’t have shoes on. Not even in the south. I wear long velvet robes and soft velvet slippers. I refuse to go out. All food is brought in. I eat hamburgers because they are easy to hold with one hand while reading and holding the book with the other hand.

In the middle of the night I read, sometimes on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, just because it’s warm. I am wretched. I don’t care anymore about being abnormal. Writing is everything. Everything. It seems impossible to write the book. It seems impossible to lift a hairbrush to brush my hair. But I do it. I put on mascara every day that I write.

This period of intense work lasts about six weeks. It’s best that way. My imagination is overheated, and my memory clogged with data of varying importance. If I go over six weeks, I begin to forget things; I feel the loss of intensity and information and I become all the more self-destructive and obsessed.

The end of the book is a big event for me. A big event. I start screaming. I put the hour and the date at the end of the last page. I expect everybody to understand, at least a little. It’s a triumph! The darkness of destiny has been driven back for a brief while. I celebrate. I scream, eat chocolate, and sleep.

Right near the end of writing The Vampire Armand, I realized I had to return to Italy, especially to Florence, and at once I began to make preparations for the trip. As soon as the novel was finished and off to the publisher’s, as soon as it could be accomplished, I flew to Italy. That gave me hope, a way out of a life threatening darkness that often follows the climax of a book. But I still ate chocolate and screamed.

While writing, I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to sleep. Why sleep? It seems stupid, except when weariness overcomes me like a giant cloud of poisonous vapor. Then I sleep fifteen to twenty hours. I tell people to go in and out of the bedroom and ignore me lying there, as if I were dead. I won’t talk on the phone. I won’t open my eyes if I don’t have to. I dream terrible, upsetting dreams.

I want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t do it to other people, and I have work that must be done, novels that must be written. So I don’t kill myself. Besides, I don’t think it’s good to kill oneself. It’s a horrible idea. It has a horrible effect even on acquaintances.

I think a lot about people I loved who are dead. I think of how dead they are, year after year, ever more dead.

#interview with the vampire #anne rice #the vampire armand #the vampire chronicles #iwtv #the vampire lestat #louis de pointe du lac #interview #tw: sucidal thoughts #mental health #writing

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jasminumdew · 3 months ago

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Zayne (x kitten hybrid reader)

It’s Zayne’s birthday so I thought I might as well write for him first in the Halloween Monster Mash >< hope you guys enjoy

Wc: 1,4k

Warnings: MDNI, established relationship, I used “kitten” just for it to sound cute guys, reader is an adult hybrid, kitty in heat, thigh grinding, fingering, piv, in his office

Big thanks to @nanamiscocksleeve for hosting Monster Mash

The weather was exceptionally breezy and cool today, a perfect day to hang out and have some fresh air, you packed your things and brought Zayne’s birthday cake to surprise him. The sky was filled with clouds, bright like the base cream of the birthday cake you bake just for him. It took you a few days to consider the ingredients and decoration that fit his style before finally started baking it yesterday. Use mint royal icing snowflakes and little candied sugar flowers for decoration, with two small seal-shaped mochis on top. Thinking of how delighted he’ll be seeing your homemade cake makes your belly churn from excitement.

Regardless of the good weather, your skin has been prickling all morning. You’ve already felt unwell last night, barely had your sleep and were restless all the time. Kitten hybrid’s normal temperature was already a few degrees higher than normal people's, but yesterday you were burning hot, making you want to trim your smooth fur. To make it worse, the heat was pooling down your lower abdomen, making you uncommonly wet. You’ve never experienced this feeling of annoyance, aching and arousing before, and it makes you consider staying home for a brief second. But today is Zayne's special day, and you don’t want to leave him to celebrate it alone, especially when he holds such a significant place in your life now. He doesn’t usually have his day off, so you have to grab this chance and give him the best birthday he’s ever had. He still wanted to finish some important files and paperwork in his office as a workaholic that he is, so he texted you to meet him at the hospital this morning before hanging out together.

“Maybe I should ask Zayne to check if there’s anything abnormal with my health”, you thought, heading to Akso Hospital.

“Oh? You’re here again? I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Did you get injured again?”

Dr. Greyson bumps into you first when you enter Akso hospital, he is as joyful as every day if you can ignore the prominent dark circles under his eyes. It’s not uncommon for the clinic staff to look exhausted all the time, considering how busy Akso Hospital can be since it’s one of the best medical facilities in Linkon.

“Thankfully I’m not, I’m having my day off and it’s Zayne’s birthday, so we’ll spend the day together. Is he busy right now?”

He took a glance at the box in your hand and smiled brightly: “Not at all, you can find him in his office. I’m sure he’ll love your gift. I have a meeting now, see you next time!”

You wave him goodbye and quickly get to Zayne’s office. The more you think about him, the aching in your lower belly keeps rising and heat rushes to your cheeks.

“Zayne?”

His eyes look up from the pile of work on his desk to catch your eyes, the adoration in his eyes melts you. You place the cake on his office desk, then take your seat between his legs with your back resting against his chest.

“Did you bake it yourself?” he chuckles at the mochi seals.

When you confirm, he kisses the top of your head, murmuring into your kitty ears: “I like it a lot. Thank you for keeping your promise to be by my side for my birthday”. You place a kiss on his cheek before hovering over his lips, “Of course I will, you deserve every best thing in the world, darling”. His lips touch yours most delicately, as though he can’t believe you’re truly here with him, in his office as his lover, not just a not-so-regular patient of his anymore. He could never dare to dream about getting with you, and he tried to cover his feelings and keep his distance for way too long, but somehow, you always find your way back into his heart. The kiss soon becomes more intense, leaving you gasping for air and tugging at his arm to let go.

Nuzzling your head on his shoulder, you breathe in his scent. Somehow it makes your head dizzy, unable to form any thoughts. You never find it so comfortable yet addictive to it this much, your lower tummy aches and itchy, and wet pooling down your panty. Gosh, maybe it was a stupid idea to wear a skirt today. You couldn’t help but grind down a bit to ease the sensation.

No no no, you shouldn’t, you need to fight the urge to grind on his thigh, to mark him yours with your scent, to let him push deep into your cunt and mark his territory, to knot you and make chubby cubs…WHAT WAS THAT? Where did those thoughts come from? Your head tried to take back its control but those horny thoughts sounded so tempting now. Then the realization hits you. You thought it was just a normal ovulation day with some extra spice, but this…You grab his arm, your voice sounds like a whine, “Zayne, I think I’m having my first heat”

“Can you wait until we get to my house?”

He asks, mind recalling his course of dealing with a hybrid’s heat. You whisper a no, as he thought, kitten hybrid won’t be able to resist for long in the presence of the suitable mate. “Please touch me, Zayne. I need something to fill me up. It feels so empty”

You cry out in frustration, rubbing your needy cunt on his thigh and making a noticeable wet spot on his pants. He caresses the soft fur on your tummy before the other hand reaches down further, petting your sweet cunt through the cotton panty. He presses down on your sensitive clit, circling it with his thumb while kissing and nibbling your neck. You can only grunt out in between moans and gasps: “Pleasee, stop teasing me. I need your cock now”

Zayne hums at that, he gets you up from his lap, places you on his table then pulls down your underwear. Exposing to the cold air and his hungry eyes, it clenches down, oozing out the sweet nectar that he always craves. But he knows how painful it’ll be for you if he doesn’t hurry up and fill you with his cum, he cannot be selfish and taste you for hours like other times you sleep together. His skilled fingers carefully opened you up. By the time he puts his third finger in, your wall impatiently sucking him in, the sloppy sound filled the room making you all flustered from embarrassment. Your brain turns to mush at his touch, can’t find in you the need to lock the door anymore, you don’t want to leave his table anytime soon.

It’s not enough, you need his cock to rearrange your inside right now, pump his seed in your fertile womb and make beautiful babies together. Your hands clumsily unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper. He clicks his tongue: “Naughty kitty. Are you that impatient?”

His cock has already hard when you pulled it out, leaking precum onto the floor. “I’m ready now, don’t need more prep babe. Pleaseee put it in” you plead with your teary eyes, knowing that’s his weakness. He grunts out and bites down on your neck while pushing in, your wall is milking him up with how tight you are. The curve of his cock hits your sweet spot, making your eyes roll back and your tail grabs tightly around his thigh. Being in heat makes your body notably more sensitive, when he reaches down to rub your clit, you instantly cum. You almost lose your consciousness after the 5th orgasm, but you need something more. Just a little bit more. You pull him closer to kiss his neck, fingers massaging his nipple, you understand his body enough to know how to trigger his orgasm the fastest. His cock twitches inside you, squirting ropes of precious seeds while he tries his best to keep his voice down.

When you all come down from the high, your body can finally relax now that you have your fill, you endearingly stroke his cheek, “Thank you for helping me with this honey. I’m sorry for taking up all our morning dealing with my problem”

He holds you tightly in his arms, planting kisses all over your face and whispering to your ears:

“Nonsense. That was the best birthday present I’ve ever had”

#ncs monster mash #zayne x reader #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne lads #zayne x mc #zayne l&ds #love and deepspace x reader

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