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bbsmuts · 7 months ago

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Field Trip Part 2: The Queen's Homecumming ft. BLACKPINK Jennie and Lisa

A/N: This is the continuation of Field Trip, which was something that was requested a lot back when I released the original. I've kept people waiting long enough, and I'm sure seeing that title made a lot of people excited. Field Trip remains my most popular smut, with over 900 notes, shoutout to my man @xiaoondc for pitching it. It's almost been a year in real time, so it'll be accurate.

-상훈

Length: 8.45k

Possible TW: Pretty much all of it

Tags: Domination, slave/master, choking, spanking, breeding, humiliation, whipping, gangbang, spitroasting, anal, throatfuck, bondage

WARNING: Intense and graphic sexual violence and degradation is depicted in this smut, much more than the original Field Trip. If you are easily triggered by or sensitive to such content, I strongly advise that you stop reading here.

Part 1: Field Trip

It had been nearly a year since Jennie's scandalous visit to Nairobi, and the time had come for her to return. At last.

Jennie had been waiting eagerly for a full year to go back to Kenya as she had promised, and now she had the opportunity. So it was with high spirits and high anticipation that she packed her things and headed to the airport. Only this time, there was a difference. She had decided to bring along a friend of hers who was relatively pure and innocent, Lisa. The two of them boarded the plane together, Lisa happily talking Jennie's ear off, having no idea what was in store for her. She was jittery the whole flight, anticipation and excitement flooding her. The thought of what was going to happen when she arrived...it made her want to finger herself right there with Lisa and the random-ass guy sitting in the seat next to her.

She disembarked the plane hastily with Lisa, waited very impatiently going through security, and took a cab to the familiar Radisson Blu hotel, where she settled down for a few hours of sleep before the morning.

...

The look of pure shock on Ngina's face when she saw Jennie, in her crop top and shorts, back on the bus was laughable, she stared for a moment and then recovered herself, going back to her clipboard to examine something. Jennie smirked and sat down near the front next to Lisa, watching the locals of Nairobi mill around by the bus stop. Once Ngina had counted her passengers and made sure everyone was there and that there were no stragglers, the bus engine started and they began moving. Jennie's excitement was reaching fever pitch, but she kept a calm outer demeanor. The scenery brought back vivid memories of her last visit, and as they pulled closer to the village, Jennie could see the massive Mugumo tree that had lead her and Somi into the trouble that had ultimately lead her to a Kenyan BBC addiction.

The village had run into some subtle improvements since Jennie had last been there; the houses and buildings had been renewed, the villagers clothes looked newer, and the architecture was slightly more modern and updated, and something that resembled an outmoded hotel was visible at the far end of the square. The massive baobab tree that Jennie and Somi had been tied to and whipped at last time was also clearly in sight, the thought sending a pang of anticipation through her body.

All the passengers disembarked the bus and entered the village, Ngina shaking hands with the leader, who looked mildly surprised to see Jennie back. The same could not be said for the other passersby, who stopped and openly stared in shock. Jennie approached the leader and extended her hand.

Taking her hand and shaking it, he said, "I never did catch your name, did I?"

"It's Jennie. You?"

"Jaali." He looked to Jennie's left and saw Lisa, who was standing there watching the exchange and had chosen to wear a very small and very tight white halter top and black shorts, which perfectly displayed her flawless figure. "I see you brought a spare."

"Indeed I did. This is Lisa." Lisa stepped forward and shook Jaali's hand, eyeing him and her surroundings very curiously.

Jaali stepped back, a cunning smirk on his face. "Very good. Well, have a look around, feel free to explore." His smirk widened. "I hear the Mugumo trees are very pretty this time of year."

"How funny, so did I." Jennie returned the devilish grin, both of them sharing a knowing smirk. "Be a shame if we didn't check them out."

He laughed. "Indeed. Well, I have matters to attend to, so I'd best be off. Enjoy yourselves."

Jennie and Lisa departed towards the large, open fields together. The word that Jennie was back spread very quickly, and various locals, especially the men, greeted Jennie as she passed and voiced how glad they were to see her again.

Jennie inwardly smirked and shook her head, since she knew well that everyone but Lisa knew what would be going on today. She wondered vaguely whether she and Lisa would be separated, or whether Lisa would consent to or enjoy what was bound to happen once they reached the Mugumo tree. The guard troop passed several times, each time a different member greeting Jennie and throwing a glance at her retreating form.

"Wow," commented Lisa the sixth time this happened, "you must be really popular down here. What, did you make friends with every person in Kenya?"

Jennie chuckled as they both sat down side by side on a large lakeside rock. "Sure I did. Plenty of guys, as well. You know me, you know I'm into black guys."

Lisa scoffed and laughed as well. "Of course you would."

They laughed together for a moment before Jennie spoke. "Hey, you never know what could go down."

Lisa's giggles came to a hushed silence. "You mean...with them?"

Jennie nodded, curious to see how Lisa felt about it. Lisa blinked a few times and then said, "Three letters. B. B. C!"

Jennie laughed again. "Shocking that you would think that way."

Lisa paused her giggling once more. "But seriously, did you actually?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Sure then. Whatever you say."

Jennie scoffed and then glanced toward the bank opposite them, spotting the massive Mugumo tree, fully in bloom, and the altar below it. The scenery was really quite beautiful, but as the guard troop passed by again, she had other things on her mind.

"Say, Lisa," Jennie said, still observing the tree, "you ever seen a Mugumo tree up close before?"

"No."

"Well, why don't we go see that one?" Jennie nodded towards the other bank. Lisa looked over at it and hopped up.

"Sure, let's go."

A small and insignificant part of Jennie felt guilty for leading her friend into such a trap, knowing that the level of pain, shame, and humiliation would match if not exceed that of last time, but that small part of her was drowned by the other parts of her, particularly parts in her lower region, that had sworn loyalty and developed addiction to the cocks of the tribesmen.

They approached the tree, Lisa making comments on how nice the leaves looked, and sat down on another rock near it. Before long, the small body of guards started moving steadily in their direction.

"That's odd," Jennie commented, fighting hard to keep the smirk off her face and her excitement down. "I wonder why they're coming over here? There's no one but us."

"No idea." Lisa yawned. "God, I should have had some coffee, I was up all night."

Inwardly, Jennie speculated that once the guards finished their trip over here, Lisa would very quickly forget her tiredness. The guards marched their way all the way up to the rock, and their leader took another step forward.

"This is a forbidden area, you must not trespass here. Come with us now."

"Oop," said Lisa as they got off the rock and followed the guards back towards the village. "Guess we weren't supposed to be there. Well, we didn't know."

"Yup. We'll probably just go back to Ngina now." Jennie knew full well that the words coming out of her mouth were blatant lies, but she ignored it as they were led into the village. Her excitement was almost making her tremble, but she kept it in.

The guards then split them up, just like last time. Lisa's cries of "Hey, wait!" were ignored by Jennie and the tribesmen. Jennie was brought to the same hut as last time, with the clay floor and thick wood centerpost. The tribesmen shoved her inside and then took their places in a circle around the hut. She would have removed her own clothes, but she really enjoyed how rough they were with her. Two stepped forward and tore off her top, not bothering to be careful. Then one of them knelt, grabbed her shorts by the front, and ripped them in two. To her surprise, they left her bra and panties alone, perhaps at the order of Jaali, and tied her hands in front of her, leaving her kneeling half-naked on the floor.

Speak of the devil, Jaali himself walked into the hut, wearing only the loincloth that the other tribesmen wore, unlike his usual expensive manner of dress. Jennie surveyed his muscular and fit figure as he paced around the small hut, feeling heat grow between her legs, finding herself growing exceedingly horny just at the sight of him.

"So, Miss Jennie," he said, the same devious grin on his face as earlier, "you find yourself the same predicament as a year ago." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Of course, since you are now a repeat offender, your punishment for such a heinous crime will be significantly more severe than last time."

He stopped directly in front of Jennie, looking down at her and allowing her a glimpse under his loincloth, both the sight and his words spiking her arousal up. He chuckled at her expression and resumed his pacing.

"I must commend you, however, for the new addition to my harem. Lisa, her name was? Quite a beauty. And in no time she, like you, wil become a cockslave to me."

There was a short pause, in which he made a half revolution of the hut. "I notice, as well, that your friend from last time has foolishly chosen to ignore my warning and stay away. Very well. She will regret it."

"How will you bring her back?" Jennie asked.

"I will send my best men to South Korea and find her. They are skilled and they will track her down and drag her back by the hair if they have to."

Jennie considered this for a moment, then realized something.

"I mean no disrespect, sir, but wouldn't a bunch of massive, smelly, half-naked Kenyan tribesmen draw a lot of attention?"

He snorted and paused in front of her, raising his eyebrows. "Surely you are smarter than that, Miss Jennie. This may appear to be a rural, run down little village, my little slut, but believe me, we are not living in the stone age anymore. I have ample equipment to disguise my men and make them fit in."

He shouted something in Swahili to the men outside the hut, of which Jennie could piece together as him requesting a chair. A heavy scraping sound sounded outside and the door opened, allowing two guards to push in a large, fancy, luxurious throne-esque chair, which they pushed up against the pillar in the center of the hut. Jaali sat down on it, unsheathed a knife from a sheath on the underside of one of the chair's arms, and handed it to a guard behind Jennie, who slashed the straps on her bra and both sides of her thong's waistband, removing both and leaving Jennie naked, wet, and desperate. The guard handed the knife back to Jaali, who cut off the string holding his loincloth together, removing it.

Jennie could practically feel her mouth watering at the sight of his cock; even semi-hard he was packing at least 7 inches. She waited for his order.

"Now, my little slave," he said, tossing the parasol leaf loincloth aside and spreading his legs slightly more, "come here and suck my cock like you mean it. Show me how much you want it."

Jennie crawled forward, sopping like a Korean rainstorm, and took his hardening shaft in both hands, slowly pumping up and down, feeling her arousal soar. She took his head into her mouth, sucking lightly. She had planned on starting slow, and she was doing so, but Jaali had other plans.

He grabbed her hair into a rough ponytail and forced her head down, sending half his length into her mouth and throat. "No one ever taught you how to suck a dick, slave?"

She moaned lightly around his dick, closing her eyes and letting him take control. Independent of him, she pushed her own head further down, pushing more of him into her.

"That's a good girl," he groaned quietly, controlling her head and moving it up and down. "Guards! Mfunge mikono!"

She didn't need to understand him, as his instruction was followed through. She felt her hands being tied together behind her back, at the same time as Jaali pulled her head down to his base, making her gag and moan. She was absolutely in love with this life, eager to serve and eager to please. She gagged again and choked as he did not release her head, thrusting his hips up into her face and driving his cock, if possible, deeper into her throat. She pushed her tongue out and licked along his balls, thoroughly enjoying being treated rough. Jaali moaned again, waited a moment, and then released her. She pulled her head off his shaft and gasped in a breath, but her moment of peace was short lived. She was turned around and shoved down, her face pressing into the cool clay floor. Jennie's heart rate increased, as she knew what was coming. A moment later she gave a gasp and a broken moan as a large cock slid into her tight, wet pussy, filling her to the brim. She had never felt so stuffed before in her life, and the sensation of the tip of a cock against her cervix when he bottomed out made her moan louder.

"Fuck!" She cried. "You're so big...master..."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Seems she knows her place better than I thought."

No further words were exchanged as he started thrusting his hips, slow at first, but quickly getting much faster, and in a matter of seconds Jennie was shrieking in pleasure and her legs were trembling with the effort of supporting her pleasure-riddled body. The continued assault on her pussy drove her crazy.

"Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, oh my god, please keep going! Fuck, you're so big! Keep pounding me!"

He pushed on her head and grabbed her breast, squeezing tightly. Jennie felt herself rapidly careening into the first orgasm of many that day.

"You like that, huh? You fucking slut, all nice and wet for me."

"Yes, I love it..." Jennie whimpered softly, brow furrowing at his deep strokes. "I-I'm a slut for you, master..."

"Good girl." He kicked up his speed and fucked her faster, automatically increasing force. Jennie's "Ah!"s became exponentially louder and within seconds, she gave a wail of bliss and squirted hard on his cock, her cheeks growing hotter as well.

"Fuck, Jennie, I can see why you're a crowd favorite!" He groaned. "God, you're tight!"

He pulled out and yanked her upright, slapping her face with his dick. Immediate lay understanding, she dove forward and shoved him all the way down her throat, desperate to taste his cum in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down very quickly, sounds of deepthroat reverberating in the timbers of the hut.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth, slave. Are you ready?"

Jennie let out a muffled "Yes, master!" around his cock before slamming her head down again, driving every last millimeter of his length down her throat. She gagged hard and coughed muffledly, but kept herself there, throat squeezing him. He gave one final loud groan, grabbed her roughly by the hair, and pulled her into his crotch, before exploding in her throat, straight down into her stomach. She slid off him slowly, savoring the taste of his thick cum, while he sat panting on the chair. She over balanced and fell on her side, still breathing heavily.

Jaali stood up and then squatted down in front of her, turning her languid hesd towards him. "I expect a performance of that standard every single time I use you, is that clear?"

"Yes, master," said Jennie, practically seeing hearts, as she looked at him.

"I must now go and sort out your friend, who will submit to me soon enough. I will leave you to my men." He walked to the door, and as the tribesmen approached, he threw a smirk oved his shoulder. "Have fun."

Jennie wished she could see Lisa get dominated, but she had no time to think about that as the men approached. Loincloths were removed, and suddenly she was surrounded by 5 large dicks, all stiff and ready to pound her.

She was grabbed and raised to a kneeling position, in which the man with the biggest cock slid under her, and pushed into her still-wet pussy, making her gasp loudly and moan in both pleasure and slight pain. He was incredibly big inside her, stretching her out considerably. Another moved in front of her and she opened her mouth obediently, allowing him in. The shaft that entered her ass, thus completing the trio, brought back strong déja vu from a year back, and she moaned louder as all three started pumping fast and hard. This feeling of being completely full, it was what she had missed so bad, and now it caused her more pleasure than ever before.

"Fuck!" Jennie moaned around the cock in her mouth as the man fucking her ass reached around her and choked her, none too carefully or lightly. She gagged as the cock was thrust deeper into her throat, her eyes rolling as she stuck out her tongue and allowed t deeper still, until he bottomed out.

All three of them groaned, and one of the other two cut the ropes binding her hands, allowing her to stroke him and his counterpart. The six of them moaned and grunted in various languages, tumbling down towards the inevitable orgasm that awaited all of them. Jennie could understand a couple of them degrading her in Swahili, which only served to turn her on more, and she felt the familiar buildup going sky high as their thrusts increased in strength and speed.

Then the hand on her throat tightened considerably as the first orgasm of the group erupted in her ass; she moaned at the spurts of warmth flooding her suddenly, and the pulsing in her tight hole. Her continued deepthroat sounds were turning her on, making her wetter, and the man fucking her pussy got an ample dousing of organic lube. His thrusts became less inhibited, faster, more slick, and he finally buried himself deep inside her, and the first shot of cum deep inside her womb made her throw her head back, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp, the sheer depth of it having her stunned and pleasured. The man in front of her grabbed her hair impatiently and shoved his cock back into her throat, and she gagged again, eyes rolling back as he bottomed out, groaning loudly.

Jennie closed her eyes and let the pleasure and arousal take over, allowing her submission to control her. She bobbed her head back and forth on the tribesman in front of her, driving him in and out of her throat, pushing him closer to his climax. Suddenly, the two others she had been stroking moved behind her, and she gasped, choked on the sudden inhale of saliva, and whipped her head around as the sensation of two cocks pressing against her asshole invaded her. She had never been double penetrated in one hole before, and she had the feeling it might not be as pleasurable as single anal penetration. With a fair amount of spit, they managed to push into her tight hole, causing her a great deal of pain and pleasure. She moaned out of both, but dutifully turned back to the other, jamming his cock back into her mouth. Both men behind her began furiously thrusting into her, seemingly enjoying her cries of both pleasure and pain. The guy in front then assumed a new position; one that benefitted all three remaining gangbangers. He lay down on his back, sliding his thick legs under her, so his cock was pointing straight up. She quickly brought her upper half down, so her ass was in the air, opening up her hole better, and brought her head down on the shaft hard, plunging it down her throat in one smooth motion. She furrowed her eyebrows in the effort of keeping it there; the new position allowed for better leverage and more penetration in her throat, it wasn't easy.

As her throat contracted around him and she massaged the underside with her tongue, he gave an almighty groan and grabbed her by the head, pulling her down still further as he blew his load in her throat, straight into her stomach, and her eyes rolled back once again as she struggled not to choke and spit his cum out. She pulled off him, swallowed with difficulty, then looked him in the eye, biting her lip in arousal.

Her seductive look was interrupted by a moan and her eyebrows arching upward as one of the two behind her started roughly fingering her clit, making her arch her back and buck her hips against them, crying out wildly at the sudden burst of pleasure. The other pushed her head into the ground, allowing him to see her side-profile moan. He leaned forward, putting more weight on her grounded face, railing her into the floor. Her entire body quaked under the force of the impacts, the strokes, rocking her prostrate form. Each and every blow to her ass made her tremble. She felt her limp hands being tied together again, something she didn't object to in the least. It made her feel controlled, helpless. And she loved it.

The man in front of her, now sitting comfortably on a wide pillow, grabbed her hair and yanked her face up, allowing him to see her pleasure-addled face. Her eyebrows were curved upwards, eyes closed, and she bit her lip at his roughness. She opened her unfocused eyes slightly and looked at him, letting out a small "ah" at a particularly hard thrust from behind her.

"You're a good obedient whore, hm?" He spoke in a thick accent, but not indecipherable. She didn't answer immediately, trying to think clearly past her haze of bliss. He slapped her roughly, making her yelp and give a quiet moan.

"Yes...master..." Jennie moaned out, giving a louder cry as three additional fingers were shoved into her pussy, adoring the roughness and the degradation. "I'm a...fuck...g-good little slut for you...master..."

He chuckled and let go of her hair, allowing her face to fall back into the floor. "Yes you are. Good girl."

Jennie moaned again. How could she ever go back to Korea? How in her right mind would she ever give this feeling up? As one of them behind her slapped her ass viciously, making her yelp louder, and she threw an arched-eyebrows lip bite over her shoulder, which earned her another slap on the ass. She moaned a vague plea for more, and the two kept up the spanks.

"Fuck..." She said softly, a small squeal escaping her lips at an especially hard spank. "I'm gonna cum..."

Her head was pulled up and she looked with hazy eyes into those of the man now relaxing on the pillow, who smirked. "You're going to what?"

"C-cum, master..." Jennie repeated, her voice trembling slightly, the pleasure reaching fever pitch inside her. "It's so good...so f-fucking good..."

He moved closer and pressed his cock against her lips, to which she gave a long lick, and then took it into her mouth, slowly moving back and forth. She moaned around his thickness, and with stifled groans, both men fucking her ass orgasmed simultaneously, sending another tirade of hot cum deep into her bowels. Her moans increased in volume dramatically, and she pulled off the cock in her mouth to vocalize her pleasure.

With a scream, she squirted intensely all over the thighs of the two behind her, yelling her lungs out as her world disappeared in a whirlpool of bliss. She was no longer aware of anything; all she knew was the pleasure of being the cockslave of this tribe. She panted heavily, slumping to the floor as all three men backed off. Faintly, she heard a very similar scream rent the air, and she immediately knew it was Lisa succumbing to the pleasure as well.

A sheen of sweat covered her entire body. She could feel cum starting to leak out of her ass and pussy, and as she returned to full consciousness, she heard footsteps approaching. Jaali entered the tent, a large and satisfied smile on his face, and she turned onto her back to see him.

"Did it work...master?" Jennie said breathlessly, chest heaving. She pulled herself upright as he approached.

"Very well, I'd say." He smiled wider. "She hasn't fully complied yet, and she's still acting a bit defiant, but that'll be fixed very soon. My men have done a good job so far. Soon enough she, too, will realize that she has no choice. The pleasure will get to her."

Jennie knew quite well what was coming next, and she was both excited and scared. It was quite painful last time, though she had enjoyed it in a way. But this time, he had said it would be more severe. She shivered, even though it was at least 40 degrees outside.

"So now," Jaali continued, "I believe you are aware of our next step?"

Jennie nodded, a small smirk tugging at her lips despite her fear of the possible intensity this time. The guards moved forward and grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her upright. They marched her outside, where a crows had assimilated and she could see Lisa's slim naked form waiting by the huge baobab tree in the village square. Among the many emotions Jennie could see in Lisa's eyes, betrayal and hurt were not detectable. What was detectable was pleasure, adoration, slight confusion, and excitement. Despite having experienced this exact situation before, her modesty had been somewhat recovered during her year in back Seoul, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as her naked body was exposed to the crowd. However, she made no attempt to cover herself and allowed herself to be led up to the baobab tree. The guards lifted her onto the brick tree ring, and one climbed up after her. He tied another rope around the one binding her hands, fashioned the other end into a noose and threw it up over the branch of the tree, tightening it so she couldn't move her arms. Lisa's arms were also tied above her head, and as the guard retreated, she turned her head to look at Jennie.

The guard started professing their crime to the crowd gathered, and Lisa said three words to her.

"Did you know?"

Jennie was silent for a moment, considering whether or not she should tell the truth. Finally she looked at her and spoke.

"Yes, I did."

Lisa snorted. "So you led me into this on purpose?"

Jennie thought she was angry, but she then smiled. "Can't say I expected something like this to happen, but I like it."

"Wait - you're okay with this?"

Lisa smiled wider. "Didn't you hear me earlier? BBC! I wasn't talking about the news corporation, I knew we'd be doing that kinda stuff with them."

In spite of what she had just said, Jennie looked away. "I'm sorry."

"But why?" Lisa questioned. "We came here both knowing what would probably happen, you just knew more of it than me."

The voice of the guard and the usual angry shouts subsided from behind them, and Jennie looked over her shoulder. The box of whips and punishing tools was being brought out again, and Jennie could see a few cat-o-nine tails hanging over the edge of it. Jennie's heart skipped a beat; they had refrained from using the cat-o-nines last time, but since it would be more severe, would they this time? A cold sweat gathered at her hairline. She knew that, even though she would enjoy being punished with their other implements, she would not enjoy that.

Lisa looked around as well and her face went pale. "Wait...wait, they won't use the spiky ones on us, will they?"

Jennie breathed out a heavy exhale. "They won't use them on you. They might for me...since it's my second time doing this. I really hope not though..."

The two guards in charge of punishing them approached the box, dug around in it momentarily, and one pulled out the barbed whip. Jennie's eyes went wide and a stab of fear tore through her. But she experienced heavy relief as the other one grabbed his hand to stop him, shaking his head and irritatedly saying something in Swahili. The other protested, and the reasonable one raised his voice slightly, which allowed Jennie to hear and understand what he was saying.

"No, you sadistic idiot!" He said in impatient Swahili. "We're punishing the girls, not tearing them apart!"

The one holding the barbed whip put it back, looking sullen. The other one continued digging around, shaking his head and muttering incredulously. Jennie thought a silent blessing on him for his mercy and breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart rate jumped up drastically as they finally settled on a pair of flexible riding crops, pumping her excitement up. She was a pain slut and she knew it. They approached holding the tools, and Lisa whipped her head around to look at Jennie.

"How long do they do it?"

"Not long," Jennie replied, shifting into a comfortable position and preparing for her punishment. "Enough to hurt, though. But don't worry," she continued, smiling deviously, "you'll enjoy-"

Her sentence was interrupted by a vicious smack to her ass by the crop. She cried out loudly in the middle of her sentence and Lisa gave a small squeal at her first strike. And then the second stroke came. And the third. The fourth. The fifth. Jennie, through her haze of pain and pleasure, saw Jaali sitting on his chair by a different hut 10 yards away with his ankles crossed, a drink in his hand, observing the scene. He saw her looking at him and raised his glass mockingly, his smirk visible even from this distance.

She yelped louder at a particularly hard stroke. So far, she thought, this was not more severe than last time, in fact it was more mild. No sooner had she thought this than the crops were put away, and she caught a glimpse of the bullwhips from last time when she looked back. Lisa shot a glance over at her calm, composed demeanor.

"Well, you were right, it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. And I do kinda like it."

A loud, sharp crack cut through the air and Lisa shrieked in pain, eyes wide from the shock of such a drastic increase in intensity. A faint red streak was visible on her ass. A second later Jennie felt a stinging pain on her own ass, and she yelled out as well. Lisa got whipped again, and she gave another howl, eyes screwing up.

"Ow!" She cried, tears welling in her eyes. "It hurts!"

Jennie got her next lash, and she felt tears springing to her own eyes, purely from the pain of it. At a glance to her right, she saw Lisa's pained and tearful eyes looking back at her, her mouth opening in another cry at her next lash. They were each given 12 more lashes and then the bullwhips were put away. Behind her, Jennie heard a man's voice, shouting in Swahili.

"Turn around!"

Jennie turned to face the crowd obediently, but Lisa didn't move, not understanding the command. Jennie opened her mouth to tell Lisa what he'd said, then another crack sounded and Lisa wailed again.

"He says turn around, Lisa."

Lisa turned around hurriedly to face the crowd as well, and a pink tint appeared in her tear-streaked cheeks at the lecherous jeers of the onlookers. She crossed one thigh over her pussy a bit, in a minimal effort to decrease the humiliation, but a warning look from a guard was enough for her to put it back down. She let her leg relax, letting the crowd have an unadulterated view of her naked and abused body, hanging her head in shame. In a way Jennie felt sorry for her, but that thought was strangled by the sight of Jaali walking over from his chair. The guards stood at attention and bowed their heads respectfully, and he climbed up to where Jennie was, surveying with approval the marks left on her and Lisa's bodies. He stepped right in front of her and spoke into her ear, roughly grabbing her sore ass.

"Do you think we should bring out the kitties, little slut?"

Jennie could only assume he was referencing the tails, to which she frantically shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, master."

Jaali chuckled. "Very well."

He walked behind her, delivered a painful slap to both of their asses, and then walked back to his chair with a single shouted word.

"Kuanza!" ("Commence!")

While Jaali had been talking to Jennie, the guards had gotten out two thin wooden canes and were now preparing to strike. Jennie gulped and steeled herself as much as possible, and completely lost her composure as the first lash landed directly on her nipple.

"FUCK!" She screamed, jerking away as much as possible. It stung way worse than last time, and she had not been prepared for the level of agony it caused. Lisa spouted a similar shriek at her first hit.

And so it continued for dozens of lashes, each stroke becoming more agonizing, until they stopped, leaving the two girls panting heavily, moaning in pain and covered in red streaks. Despite the intense stinging pain she was feeling, Jennie couldn't deny that her pussy was absolutely drenched, and she found herself wanting more. Then she spotted her punisher eyeing her pussy as though about to hit it with the switch.

"Please..." Jennie said quietly, almost to herself, "No..."

Despite her arousal, she knew that being whipped there with that switch would be absolute hell. He seemed to consider it, but shook his head and put away the switch. This time around they used different tools. Perhaps since it was Lisa's first time, they went easier on her this round. Her punisher brought out a multi-tasseled leather flogger, and Jennie's retrieved an old-fashioned Russian knout, thankfully designed without wire. It was, Jennie thought, like a more intense version of Lisa's flogger.

The guards approached once more, holding their different implements of punishment. Jennie saw what was coming an instant before it did - the crowd gave a collective gasp as each of the two girls was struck violently in the pussy with their respective whips. But instead of a shriek of pain, both of them let out moans of pleasure.

"Ooooh..." Jennie moaned, as the guards drew their arms back once more. "Now you like it, huh, Lisa?"

Lisa gave a cute yelp as she was struck between her thighs again. "Mmm, yeah..."

The next upswing hit her directly in the clit, eliciting a high pitched "ahh" and upping her arousal. Lisa moaned again, a barely perceptible buck of her hips signaling her pleasure.

"Harder!" Jennie cried as she was whipped again, desperate for her release. "Fucking whip me harder!"

The guard didn't understand the words she said, but could clearly decipher her tone because his uppercuts increased in force and frequency. She felt herself drawing nearer to an orgasm from pain alone, though the strikes caused her intense pleasure from it. Lisa's cries also got louder as she too approached her orgasm.

"Fuck," Lisa gasped, chest heaving, "I'm gonna cum!"

Jennie only moaned in reply, giving a loud "ah" at her punisher's swing. But then there was a pause in the pleasure pain. Jaali had roused himself from his chair and was making his way through the crowd as Lisa's shouts continued, and after a quick word with Jennie's guard he took the knout from him and turned to face Jennie. There was a moment of silence, broken only by her counterpart's broken whimper, wherein Jaali and Jennie looked each other in the eye, and Jennie knew she was about to cum.

With a slight cock of his head, Jaali brought his hand down and then swung it up into her soaking wet pussy. Then again. And on the third strike, he calculated his movement, let his hand fall, and then brought up a stinging, painful, blissful strike into her. Every tassel of the ten-tail knout was felt, each landing an exquisite sting on a different spot. Her clit, her entrance, her lips, everything was hit in a magnificent blow. And this was what drove her over the edge.

With a final shriek, voicing her pleasure, she squirted explosively all over the place; droplets of her cum showered the tree ring and everything below her. It only took a few more strikes for Lisa to reach her orgasm as well; lithe body writhing, she squirted hard on the tree ring below her too. The two of them hung limp against their bonds, chests heaving.

Jaali climbed up to stand in front of the crowd, back to the two bound girls, and starting speaking loudly in Swahili to the audience.

"You see this?" He gestured at the two of them. "These two degenerate whores have just orgasmed before your eyes, from a public whipping! They are aroused by pain and humiliation! Now that you have seen with your own eyes the level of decadence these licentious sluts show, I leave them to you. I trust that you will handle them appropriately."

The crowd, especially the men, cheered at the last two sentences, and the mob converged. The rope on Jennie's hands was sawed off and she was dragged onto the ground with Lisa. Jennie felt a mass of hands groping and fingering her, to which she moaned quietly. She was pulled to a kneeling position, at which time someone tied a piece of cloth into her mouth, keeping her from talking. A hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, and a few more restrained her hands behind her back. She felt a lukewarm substance being daubed across her breasts and cleavage, but she couldn't decipher the words from feeling alone. The hand gripping her hair was pulling very hard, and Jennie gritted her teeth at the pain. Yet another hand grabbed her by the neck and tightened its grip until she was gasping, and several more slapped whatever parts of her were accessible. She felt blows land on her ass, pussy, breasts, face, thighs, and other spots. She managed to turn her head enough to see Lisa, who was being treated the same way, and black clay paint which had been roughly smeared across her breasts spelled "Kahaba" (Whore). An unknown someone slapped her face hard enough to knock her over, but she was steadied by the thirty hands grasping her.

Jennie's mind was a whirlwind of chaos and mixed emotions, and the only things that resonated with her brain were the pleasure of being caressed and fingered and the pain of being slapped, spanked, and abused. Bodies and noise pressed in on her. Her hair was released, and she looked down at her chest to see the same clay paint, which spelled "Malkia Kahaba" (Queen Whore). Her cheeks grew hot again, but that was nothing compared to Lisa's. Lisa's face could have been easily mistaken for a beetroot, it was so red.

The two were dragged onto their feet. Jennie's hands were tied behind her back, and she was pushed forward. She could't see where they were going, or where she was being led, but the crowd was marching her and Lisa somewhere, and by the noise of the crowd behind her, she could tell she was at the front of it. Gasps and shouts were heard from who was presumably villagers who hadn't been made aware of the situation. Blindfolded, gagged, tied, and naked, she was paraded through the village, shown to everyone who hadn't already been at the gathering. As humiliated and ashamed as she was, she couldn't ignore the heat building up between her legs again. Was she really being turned on by this?

Then someone in the lead of the crowd shouted in gleeful Swahili, something like "I got it!"

Jennie didn't know what he was talking about, but all the was concentrating on was keeping her arousal to a minimum, since her thighs were rubbing together a lot as she walked. But then, out of nowhere, something flat and something that stung hit her ass, and she gave a loud cry, not expecting the sudden pain. They had broken out the crops again, and Lisa let out a similar squeal a second after. Jennie's ass was already sore from its earlier abuse, and the sting was made much worse now. But each hit not only send a jolt of pain through her, but one of pleasure as well. She struggled to keep her moans at bay, and was battling to keep herself from cumming again. She was fighting on multiple fronts, including her own front, and soon enough the armies of pleasure would overtake her defense.

And sure enough, when the crop was brought up into her pussy, she folded. Her entire body shook with the effort of controlling itself, and she bit the cloth in her mouth hard to keep herself from yelling out. A stream of cum leaked out despite her best efforts. The leaders of the mob noticed her decrease in pace and pushed her to keep walking, thankfully not noticing her orgasm. Her whole body felt hot and shaky, whether that was from arousal or humiliation she didn't know.

Before she knew it, they had made a full circle of the village, and her blindfold and gag were removed. While they had been away, some remaining helpers had constructed two large structures that vaguely resembled spits for cooking meat, which were made up of two vertical wooden poles with an adjoining horizontal pole on top, both of which having been laid down on the ground. The crowd had assimilated more members on its tour of the village, and various members were shouting something Jennie couldn't understand over the noise. But she and Lisa were each forced onto one of the respective spits. Jennie's hands were tied to the top pole, and each of her feet was tied to the two outer poles, spread-eagling her across it. Then a rope was tied onto each of her thighs and then connected to the top pole, to support her and make sure she didn't fall. She looked to the side and saw Lisa in the same position, everything on display for the villagers. Tears were gathered in her eyes, but she didn't seem to be too opposed to her current situation.

The crowd left them alone momentarily while they held an internal discussion, no doubt debating how to humiliate the two girls further. They seemed to come to a unanimous conclusion, and the two were suddenly surrounded by men. Jennie got a brief glimpse of the surrounding houses before the mob of guys closed in. And in every direction, they all pulled out their cocks, and in every direction they started stroking their cocks.

Jennie understood their purpose now. She and Lisa would be covered in cum and raised on their spits to be displayed to all passersby. She was mortified at the idea of it, but the idea also sent a thrill of excitement through her and a fresh wave of slick to her lower region.

It was only a couple of minutes before the cum started flowing; Jennie gasped as the first spurt of cum landed directly on her hypersensitive pussy, and then the floodgates were opened and dozens more hit every part of her that was reachable. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of each white spray covering her body. They focused much of it on her face, but eventually they covered her whole figure with streaks of white cum. A final spurt landed on her outstretched tongue, and then the men dispersed. Her spit was heaved and hoisted into a standing position, leaving her hanging naked about six feet above the ground, well in view of everyone.

And after a few minutes of jeers, ogling and shame, the crowd dispersed and Jennie found herself in a similar position to last time: naked, tied, abandoned, and humiliated. She looked over and locked eyes with Lisa to her left. Tear tracks adorned her beet-red cheeks.

"You okay?" Jennie asked in Korean, so the remaining locals and guards wouldn't understand.

"Yes," Lisa replied, giving a small struggle against her bonds, "I'm good. And you know what?"

"What?"

Lisa suddenly smiled. "You were right, I did like it."

Jennie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? All that, and you enjoyed it?"

Lisa nodded. "But fuck - that hurt. A lot."

Jennie grinned. "That's what makes it good, isn't it?"

Lisa giggled. "You're a really big fucking slut, you know that?" She sighed. "How long do you think we'll be up here?"

Jennie shrugged, as much as was possible with her arms splayed out. "As long as it takes for the guards to get horny again."

Lisa shivered at the thought. "Damn, that felt amazing..."

"Yes, now you see why I was so eager to come back."

"So what happens next?"

"You'll probably be taken down, then fucked again, then the tribe leader will offer you the option of being this tribe's sex slave. You can go back to Korea with me as long as you come back with me every year."

"Not that I will, but if I refuse?" Lisa asked.

"Prison, in which case the same outcome happens."

"Well, even if I had a choice I would still become their slave. Because god...I can't resist that..."

Jennie laughed. "Now who's a slut?"

"Heyyy!" Lisa protested. "I'm not a slut, it's just...well..."

"Who said there's anything wrong with that?" Jennie chuckled.

Lisa blushed. "Ok fine...I'm a slut."

"That's better."

It was about half an hour more that they hung there, with the occasional goggling passerby, talking. But then a small body of guards approached and took the spits down, untying the two girls and dragging them to their feet. Then their hands were tied behind their backs again, and their blindfolds were replaced.

No fanfare was bothered with and no privacy was cared for as the guards removed their loincloths and bent the two over on their knees. Jennie had no time to react whatsoever before a thick, long, and hard cock entered her pussy from behind, and another pushed against her lips until she opened them, which she did, gladly welcoming the shaft into her mouth. Both dicks quickly reached their maximum depth and bottomed out, making Jennie moan and gag simultaneously. She was very sensitive everywhere from the day's abuse and manhandling, and the man fucking her pussy was taking no care to be gentle. Nor was the one in front, who was savagely fucking her throat with no consideration for her rapidly emptying lungs. She choked on the thick meat filling her throat, trying to draw breath, but to no avail. He thrusted his hips forward fully, shoving his entire cock into her throat, keeping her from inhaling anything but his precum. She gagged, trying to pull away, but he held her head there, making her eyes roll back. She choked again, inadvertently jerking, her throat being stretched out by his thick cock. She desperately coughed and choked, fearing that he would facefuck her to unconsciousness, but then he let her go, pulling out of her throat. She gasped in a breath, coughing and panting. He gave her a moment's rest before starting throatfucking her again, but he didn't hold her down. Quick, hard thrusts were given from both sides, and again she felt herself drawing nearer to a climax. She had lost count of how many she'd achieved, but the number, whatever it was, had left her very sensitive and very delicate, and she was loving being absolutely demolished by the tribesmen. They gave no regard for her sensitivity, uninhibitedly drilling her with relentless abandon. Similar noises came from Lisa to Jennie's right; her cute deepthroat sounds and moans could be heard even over Jennie's own.

Then she heard a groan from behind her and a moment later, a deluge of hot cum filled her pussy, shooting deep inside her. The sudden torrent of warmth triggered her oncoming peak as well, and a gush of cum streamed out of her. Her loud "ahhhhng" was muffled and absorbed by the cock in her throat, and its owner succumbed to the orgasmic pleasure Jennie's mouth gave him, and finally buried himself inside it, releasing his load deep down her throat.

The two were given a minute to recover, breathing heavily, until they were heaved to their bedraggled feet once more.

"Well, see you." Lisa called to Jennie in Korean, excitement easily distinguishable in her voice, and then they were led their separate ways. Jennie nodded at her and allowed herself to be steered away towards the sex hut. Jaali was waiting there, in his chair which was pushed against the center post. He gave a small smirk at the sight of her, cheeks flushed and red, naked, covered in semi-dry cum and whip marks, and pushed onto her knees.

"Enjoyed yourself, little slut?"

"Yes, I have, master."

"Last time, of course, you were offered a choice, which I will be giving to your friend once I'm done here. This time, you having already accepted the better option, you have another choice. You can, of course, return to Korea, and await this time next year. But," he continued, a small smirk curling his lips, "our hospitable village would be willing to play host to you and your friend, should you wish to stay a little bit longer to enjoy our...amenities."

Jennie was silent for a moment, and then smiled widely.

A/N: Jesus Christ, it's about time I put this out. It might've been a bit rushed. It's been pretty fun writing this series, and you know I can't leave it like that, so a part 3 will be in order in about...ten years. You're welcome.

#blackpink smut #jennie smut #kpop smut #jennie #lisa #lisa smut #blackpink lisa #blackpink jennie

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knockknockitsnickels · 1 month ago

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~✨IMAGINE✨~ You're at a Christmas party. You need to go to the bathroom. You need someone to watch your drink. Whoever could you ask? Observe. Explanations below the cut.

S Tier

Shifty: It's a little beneath her, but sure. She can just get one of her multitudes to watch it until you get back.

Princess and the Dragon: Absolutely. Also could possibly use the weird fusion thing she's got going on to give you live updates on how your drink is doing.

Hunted: Protects your drink with his life. Hisses at anyone who gets too close.

A Tier

Prisoner: Pris is already just sitting blankly in the corner, she doesn't mind doing that and also watching your drink.

Base Princess: She's happy to help, though I could see her getting a bit impatient if you take too long. Still probably one of your best options.

Thorn: Thorn is surprised you trust her and promises to make good on that. If she perceives a threat she swallows your drink whole, glass and all.

Hero: Hero's a nice dude who would probably be happy to watch your drink for you. That said he also strikes me as the kind of guy to forget it's yours and absently take a sip of it.

Spectre: She's happy to watch it for you, but she's also incorporeal, which might hamper her ability to do so. That said, she can probably just de-heart anyone who tries to mess with it.

Adversary : Takes protecting your drink as a challenge and her sacred duty. Beats up anyone who approaches her while she's holding it. Probably spills it everywhere in the process. It's the thought that counts.

B Tier

HEA: She'll probably be happy to watch it for you if you ask but also like. This party is HER moment. She is living her hot girl summer this winter and you should really just leave her to it.

Broken: Likewise with broken, he's not a bad option but you should probably let him have a night off.

Wraith: She's a little annoyed you asked but Wraith strikes me as a girl's girl. She'd probably watch it for you.

Narrator: He's SO mad you asked. "You're not here to have fun, you're here to slay the princess!" (he'll still watch it for you, but he'll complain the entire time).

Fury: Fury gets bored while waiting for you to come back and starts atomizing your drink. She reassembles it before you return but it still tastes a little funny.

C Tier

Stranger: As she exists in her route, probably a bad idea (she's got a lot going on). As the heart princess, however, she's one of your best options (more eyes and hands = extra attention being paid to your drink).

Wounded Wild: She's like SUPER touched you trust her enough to ask but regretfully informs you that she doesn't really have hands to hold it with.

Cage: Cage just leaves her head at a table to watch your drink while the rest of her body does something else. She can't really stop anyone from messing with it but at least she's keeping an eye out for you.

Paranoid: On the one hand he's suspicious of literally everything which might make him a good choice, but on the other hand I feel like he might work himself into a panic attack while you're gone. I'd rather not do that to him.

Damsel: Of course she'll watch your drink for you, if that's what would make you happy! She puts in an honest effort but she's also probably going to forget it on a table somewhere.

The Long Quiet: TLQ is basically just you so idk, what would YOU do? 🤨

D Tier

Cheated: Agrees to watch your drink, then immediately trips and drops it on the floor.

Stubborn: Stubborn's kind of a tossup depending on his mood. If he's already doing something else he's probably not going to help you (additionally, even if you do convince him to help there's a very real chance he'll end up using your glass as a weapon in a bar fight).

Den: Smacks it off a table in typical cat fashion. Seems to feel pretty bad about it after, but doesn't have any money to buy you a new one.

Smitten: Ditches your drink to go flirt with the nearest princess.

Nightmare: It's near impossible to ask, since you can't get close enough to her without your organs shutting down (that said I think she'd probably be cool with it).

Skeptic: I this with love but given Skeptic's track record I think there's a high chance he'll get distracted by some other mystery and forget all about your drink.

M.O.C: Has many arms with which to hold and protect your drink, but also lacks a face with which to watch it.

Wild: Fuses with you into one ultimate being. Now *we're* going to the bathroom.

E Tier

Apotheosis: As you approach her outside (she can't fit in the building) your drink is pulled from your hand by her gravitational force and floats away. You're not getting it back.

Contrarian: While you're gone he dumps your drink out on the floor bc he thinks it'd be funny. He immediately feels bad about it and goes to buy you a new one but he doesn't actually know what you had before so he just ends up getting you a coke zero.

Drowned Grey: When you return, the contents of your glass have been replaced by a strange, murky liquid. It carries a faint scent of blood. You ask her what it is and she vanishes with a mysterious smile.

Eye of the Needle: Smashes your drink on the ground and demands you fight her in the parking lot.

Cold: Takes your drink, then leaves it on a table and watches from a distance "just to see what happens."

Tower: Downs your drink while maintaining unbroken eye contact. Claims she thought you bought it for her. Obviously lying.

F Tier

Beast: Swallows your drink whole. She gets broken glass stuck in her throat and you have to take her to the emergency room.

Razor: Your glass slides out of her knife hands and shatters on the floor. Then she skewers you.

Witch: Throws your drink on the ground, laughs at you, then steps on some of the broken glass while trying to walk away. That's another emergency room visit.

Burned Grey: Before you can ask her anything, she sets the both of you and the entire bar on fire.

Opportunist: I don't think I need to explain why asking him is a bad idea. He gives your drink away to the first person who asks. Actually, they probably don't even need to ask.

Anyway have fun and be responsible this holiday season also feel free to add any additions/corrections you have, bye.

#can you tell ive got work im procrastinating #slay the princess #stp #im not tagging everyone #addendums for the tags:#WW might be able to move those branch things like arms but it's unclear how much mobility she has #cheated gets to be top of d tier despite destroying your drink bc he had good intentions #but he is life's pinata #contrarian's placement may vary depending on how you feel about coke zero #drowned grey wants you to try her homebrewed kombucha (it tastes bad)#also im aware the image for tlq is actually one of the PATD chibis #but i think it looks cuter than the mirror image so im using it

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pedrospatch · 9 months ago

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a safe haven l ten

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze.

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

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jinwoosbabyboo · 1 month ago

Text

Holidays w/ boyfriend Sylus

Holiday posts on the TL w/ boyfriend Sylus ft. some posts from the crow twins

skye.109

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, thing1_luke, thing2_kieran and 88.7k others

skye.109: She wants another vacation home

tagged: misshuntermc

comments

misshuntermc: You didn’t say no

↳ skye.109: How could I tell you no?

talkthat_tara: Lord I've seen what you've done for others 😔🙏🏼

↳ simonesays: Impatiently waiting 🥴

liiisa_: Holidays at MCs?? 👀

↳ skye.109: Denied she’s mine this holiday season ↳ liiisa_: yes sir ._.

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by skye.109, talkthat_tara, simonesays and 77.7k others

misshuntermc: Christmas Pizza >>> Christmas Cookies

tagged: thing1_luke, thing2_kieran

comments

thing1_luke: I won!

↳ misshuntermc: it wasn’t a competition ↳ thing1_luke: thats what a loser would say

skye.109: So this is what all that noise in the kitchen was?

↳ thing2_kieran: It was Luke he tried to fight me over the pizza dough ↳ thing1_luke: Snitch

misshuntermc: @/skye.109 come get your sons

↳ skye.109: they’re not my sons ↳ thing1_luke: the betrayal 😰 ↳ thing2_kieran: the deception 😖

simonesays: can I get a one?

↳ thing2_kieran: you can have them all ↳ thing1_luke: NOT MINE 😡

talkthat_tara: the ornament one is so cute

↳ thing1_luke: You can have it

skye.109: whipped

↳ misshuntermc: come eat ↳ skye.109: eat what? 😏

thing1_luke

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, things2_kieran, imjenna and 65.3k others

thing1_luke: Handstand contest who do you think won?

tagged: misshuntermc, thing2_kieran

comments

liiisa_: I already know my girl won 🙌🏼

↳ simonesays: if she didn’t then Kieran cheated ↳ thing2_kieran: 😦💔

talkthat_tara: update?

↳ misshuntermc: I won ↳ liiisa_: I KNEW IT

thing2_kieran: the ground was slippery

↳ skye.109: Hold that L ↳ misshuntermc: stop using my slang

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by liiisa_, simonesays, talkthat_tara and 94k others

misshuntermc: Who needs a step stool when you have a boyfriend?

tagged: skye.109

comments

skye.109: Am I just your step stool now? 🤨

↳ misshuntermc: A handsome step stool 😘 ↳ skye.109: Very funny sweetie

yvannamama: When will it be my turn?

↳ misshuntermc: He’s on his way to you don’t worry ↳ yvannamama: He needs to move faster 🙄

talkthat_tara: Me and who?

↳ liiisa_: Who gon’ tell her? ↳ simonesays: Luke is literally right there WHO SAID THAT?? 🫨

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lnds #sylus fluff #sylus lnds #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #nikaaaaimagine

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lilybug-02 · 1 month ago

Note

To be fair, it's been like 5 years since Silksong was announced, closing in on 6 and we haven't gotten anything new the past couple years. People are understandably a bit impatient, especially since it was supposed to come out last year.

I understand the wait. Deltarune is in a somewhat similar boat. Of course, in contrast, the Deltarune developers are very open and give constant updates. Buuuut both games are taking a very long time to finish.

I'm just lucky I joined Hollow Knight late, haha!

#ask stuff #hollow knight #deltarune

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet Treat

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bake one of your favourite fall treats for your coworkers but one of them takes it to mean more than it does.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: this is the fourth of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The leaves feel more vibrant as you walk along the autumnal street. Clusters sit at the base of street poles and the brisk wind nips at your cheek and nose. You tuck your chin into your woolly scarf and hug the container of treats closer.

You stifle a yawn. Your exhaustion is well worth the output. You spent most of the night baking. It’s a hobby for you and now that you have your first steady job, you have the funds and the space to do it. And as the newbie in the office, it felt right to add a bit of warmth to the office culture.

To be honest, you’re trying to fit in. Since you started your desk job, you’ve felt that pressure. It’s all new to you and you feel like every day is a learning experience. Everyone else seems so settled and sure. It’s not like a retail gig where you’re all just trying to get through another day.

As you get to the front door of the building, your met with a familiar face. Rhodey flicks two fingers in a half-wave and drawls out ‘morning’ as he opens the door for you. You thank him and enter the lobby.

He trails you along the polished tile and you both stop before the metallic doors of the elevator. He taps the button as you tap one heel impatiently. He takes a deep breath and lets it out.

“What’s all that?” He asks.

“Oh, it’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” He wonders.

He’s always nice. He interviewed you and helped you on your first day. He’s too busy for you to run into each other very much, but he’s always pleasant.

“Yes, you have to wait until you get upstairs to find out.”

“Oh, maybe I should see if I can beat the elevator,” he kids and looks at the door to the stairs. You chuckle. The doors ahead of you slide apart. “Ah, nevermind, seems like fate is on my side.”

He gestures you in ahead of him. The ascent is smooth enough. You’re never a fan of the rising sensation that makes you woozy. You step off thankfully, clutching the container firmly to your stomach.

“Well, I should find my desk,” you say.

“Hey wait, what about the surprise?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you face him and slide your arm under the container. You peel the corner of the lid back with your other hand and smile, “apple pastries. Hope you like ‘em.”

“Homemade?” He asks as he reaches for one.

“Sure are,” you chime. “I have napkins in my bag but my hands are kinda full.”

“Nah, I don’t mind a mess,” he sniffs the dessert, “think this will go well with my coffee.”

“Let me know if you like it,” you smile.

“Oh, you will know. I might just try to sneak a second,” he says and turns to head off towards the executive offices.

You shut the container and wade through the desks to your own. You put the container down and strip off the layers of your scarf, gloves, hat, and coat. You finally get yourself set as Marissa shows up.

“Do you smell cinnamon?” She asks as she wiggles her nose and plunks her insulated cup down.

“Yes, I do,” you take the lid off and gesture to the container. “Want one?”

“Hm, apple?” She asks and you nod. “What’s this all about?”

“I don’t know. I made them so I thought I’d share.”

“Huh, that’s sweet,” she remarks dryly as you offer her a napkin. “Enjoy that optimism while it lasts.”

Your cheek twitches. You notice that about the people here. Even if something good happens, they’re suspicious about it. They want to know why or the expect something horrible to follow.

As more people shuffle in, you offer them a pastry. Everyone seems to like them so far. Yet, you still have lots to go around.

You get up and Marissa glances over, “any more?”

“Well, yeah, I was going to go offer them to the managers.”

“Oh,” she darts her eyes way. “Good luck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just... interrupting for a pastry... kinda... non-productive.”

“Oh, right,” you pout, “maybe I could just leave them in the breakroom.”

“Probably a better idea.”

You’re disappointed. You know the execs rarely go that far. Still, she’s right and she would know better than you.

You take the container and pass between the other desk. As you pass the hallway to the exec spaces, you nearly collide with someone else. He barely seems to notice until you squeak and save the desserts from spilling.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you eke out as the man struts by only to scuff to a halt.

He turns back to you, a pinch between his brows and a tick in his cheek. You clamp your mouth shut as his dark eyes penetrate you. It’s him, Mr. Stark, the big boss. You’ve never seen him this close-up. You panic and look around as a hush falls across the office.

“Would you like one?” You ask out of sheer helplessness. You offer up the container and his eyes slowly descend. His expression doesn’t change.

To your surprise, he steps closer. He reaches into the container and takes one of the pastries. He examines it then turns away without a word. You stare after him in fear of your livelihood.

You wait until he’s gone and scurry into the breakroom. You put the container on the counter and catch your breath. Oh gosh. You just blew it, didn’t you? Over something as stupid as desserts. You shouldn’t be handing out treats like Santa Claus, you should be working!

You put your head down and march out. You go directly back to your desk and sit. You feel eyes on you. Marissa wheels closer. “Told you. Don’t bother the big guys.”

��

The windows are dark as you finally log off. It’s no coincidence that you’re the only one left in the office. It might be futile but you hope the extra work might save you from the fallout of your unfortunate run-in earlier.

You cross the office floor and dip into the breakroom. You claim the empty container from the counter. You’re happy that your hard work didn’t go to waste, at least.

You return to your desk and snap the lid on. You gather up your coat and pull on your hat and scarf, leaving your gloves in your pocket. You pack up your bag and sling it on your arm, clutching the container against your hip.

You push your chair in and turn. You nearly shriek, instead swallowing it to a squeal, as you find someone else standing across the space. You put your hand to your chest and gasp.

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t hear you,” you gulp. It’s Mr. Stark. Great, you don’t think you’ve done enough to stop the inevitable.

He comes closer, sliding his hands into his pockets as he approaches. He’s silent as he measures you with a long gaze. The silver at his temples twinkles against the darker strands. He stops at the corner of your desk.

“You all out?” He nods to the container.

You flinch, “um, yes, sir.”

“Too bad. Tasty,” he says. “And that little heart in the pastry... nice touch.”

“Oh,” you’re surprised by his praise, expecting a full remonstrance. “Thank you. I... I just thought it was cute but, er, sorry, I don’t mean to chatter. I should go.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says, “another late night.” He clucks and glances around the empty office. “You know, that really... made my day. Not much to look forward around here.”

Your brows rise and you smile, unsure how to respond.

“Feel like I owe ya more than a thanks,” his forehead lines as he tilts his head, “and I gotta grab something to eat,” he checks his watch and sighs, “all my meetings went long so could I pay you back?”

“Uh, sir,” you wonder.

“You like shawarma?” He intonses.

“Shawarma?” You repeat, surprised.

“I know, I know, a guy like me is supposed to live off caviar and fine steaks. You ever just get the craving for something....” he pauses and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Nasty?”

You chuckle, “um, sure. I sometimes order fast food.”

“So? Unless...” he hesitates, “you’re busy? Looks like you’re running behind too.”

“No, sir, that’s very generous. Um, I... yeah, I could... I could go for shawarma,” you agree, relief flowing over you. You don’t think he’s going to fire you unless it’s a trick.

“Great, let me just grab my jacket.”

🍏

Dinner is delicious, though a bit awkward. Your guilt isn’t lessened as Mr. Stark insists on paying for it. You tell him you can handle it but you don’t argue that much. He’s still your boss.

You pull on your jacket as you leave the restaurant. He holds the door for you. You’re already mentally preparing to tuck into bed.

“That was nice. If I don’t have some business lunch or dinner, I usually eat alone,” he scoffs as he comes up beside you.

“Oh? Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Just as much as that special treat you made me,” he says.

“Uh, yeah, well, I like baking--”

“You know, no one ever offers me stuff like that. They all just get quiet when they see me. Can’t even look at me,” he grumbles. “But you smiled at me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s... they’re just intimidated, I’m sure. Because you’re so smart,” you say.

“What about you? You’re not?” He asks as you stop next to his sleek red car.

“No, I am,” you admit. “I’m the newest person in the office, everyone intimidates me.”

He looks at you long and hard, “really?”

“Well, yeah, I’m still learning how to do everything.”

“Who?” He asks.

“Who?”

“Who’s being mean?” He growls.

“What? No, sir. It’s not—no one’s mean. I didn’t say that.”

“Because if someone’s messing with you, I’ll happily have a special meeting with them,” his expression darkens.

“No one,” you avow. “Sorry, I must’ve said it the wrong way.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he counters.

“Right, er...” you peer over your shoulder, “I should go catch a bus--”

“A bus?” He echoes.

“Sure, it’s almost nine o’clock,” you look at your fitbit.

“My car’s right here, get in,” he says.

It’s a command and you’ve pressed your luck far enough. You nod and thank him as he opens the door. You sit in the low seat and hug your bag atop the empty container. He shuts you in and strolls around to the other side.

As he sits in front of the steering wheel, his cologne clogs your nose. It’s definitely expensive. You squirm in the seat. You’re tired and a bit impatient to be home. You still have to go to the office early tomorrow.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes instead.

“Lease I can do,” he says. “Where do ya live, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? The epithet tweaks your ear but you try not react. You worked in retail, a lot of men love that word. You give him your address.

“Really? All the way over there?” He asks. “Girl like you shouldn’t be done there,” he tuts.

“It’s not that bad,” you assure him.

You drag your hand up your cheek, trying to wake yourself up. You’re exhausted. You’re so used to the 9-5 that you’re ready to flop into bed.

You zone out at the engine hums. The soft motion of the turns lulls you and it isn’t until you’re halfway in the other direction to your apartment that your instinct kicks in. You sit up and look around.

“Where are you going?” You ask in a panic.

“I live closer, sweetheart. You can crash at mine,” he says.

“Your-- no, Mr. Stark, I can’t do that. If you don’t want to drive me, I can get an uber.” You pull on the zipper of your purse and he hits the brakes. You lurch forward as he reaches over and clasps onto your hand.

“You don’t need to do that,” he says.

“Mr. Stark?” You babble. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why won’t you take me home?”

He’s quiet. His eyes fall to his hand and he lets you go. He grips the wheel again but doesn’t go. He sighs and tilts his head back.

“You gave me that pastry. With the little heart.”

“I gave them to everyone--”

“No, but you gave one to me.” He insists.

“Sir,” you sniff. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Please don’t fire me.”

“Fire you--” He turns to look at you, “no, no, no.”

He fixes his gaze straight ahead and presses on the gas again. He rolls forward and turns down another street. You unzip your purse and once more, he stomps on the brake. You lurch forward and the seat belt digs into your chest as your bag falls onto your feet.

“Don’t touch that phone,” he snarls.

“Sir,” you sit back, rubbing where the belt bit into you, “sorry.”

“It’s just... I can’t see where I’m going with the glare,” he exhales shakily.

“Okay,” you whimper.

He drives on. You don’t move. Your heart is racing. You don’t understand what’s going on.

He enters the nicer neighbourhoods. Where the houses have that modern boxy feel, tall glass windows for walls, and iron gates around trimmed hedges. Their residents spends as much time there as their vacation homes on the next continent.

He hits a button and steers toward one of the gates as it slides open on a motor. He rolls through as you sink into yourself. This must be his house. You’re still spinning with the suddenness of it all. From the office to dinner to this. One moment stoic and silent, the next smiling and kind, and now...

As you look at him, his eyes are so dark that the swallow the glow from the dash and the security lights mounted on the house. He shifts into park and kills the engine. You twiddle your fingers and watch him. He reaches over and presses the button on your seat belt.

You wince and look away as he trails his touch up your arm and to your shoulder. He walks his fingers up over your collar and along you neck. He traces the curve of your jaw as you shiver.

“You gave me something sweet, baby,” he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “I just wanna return the favour.”

He leans across the space between your seats and pushes his lips to yours. You murmur and grab onto his wrist. You feel the tendons tense as he squeezes you tighter. His mouth parts from yours and he presses his forehead to yours. You’re locked in his hold, paralysed.

He hums and licks his lips, “You taste just as good.”

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #fic #iron man #tony stark x reader #mcu #marvel #avengers #autumn

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