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beardedjoel · 6 months

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smother - part ii: resistance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: joel knows how to break you just right, to get you feeling helpless enough to accept what he believes you need. somewhere deep inside of you, you think you might like it. 10.9k words (sorry) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) masturbation (m), nipple play/groping, manipulation, joel def has a corruption kink, joel gets a bit violent in this chapter, y'all get a lot of touching and (kissing), if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: okay i'm even more nervous about this chapter than the first, idk how it got so long but i really hope its tense and enticing for you all! i love writing dark joel, this has been such a thrill so far tbh! get buckled in for heavy duty smut next chapter too ✌️

Light spills in around the thick, heavy curtains, drawn tightly shut. Just a glowing sliver on the edges and underneath, telling you it’s at least well into the morning, that you’ve been asleep for longer than you’d expected to. Your brain is a scrambled, hazy mess from the way you’d finally been able to pass out, still encumbered by Joel’s grasp holding you down. After a while his heaviness had a calming effect, the opposite of what you’d ever thought would happen when he first came into your bed last night. But now, he was nowhere to be found, the other side of your bed cold and empty, such a stark difference that you start to wonder if maybe you’d imagined it, dreamed it all last night.

You get up to let some light from the day in, your eyes burning as they adjust and you see that it looks to be late afternoon already. How many hours had you been out for?

Recollections of the night before flood your brain - Joel’s warmth pressed so close to you, his hard body molding softly into yours like he knew how to keep you safe, take care of you, just like he’d said. Yet there’s still an unease surrounding the thoughts, that he’d made the decision for you, came into your bed and lied. It sends a shiver up your spine, half thrill and half fear as you contemplate what you should do next. Maybe plotting a way to Jackson is the right move, but something about Joel was keeping you here, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet. It was more of a feeling, something indescribable that came over you when thinking about him.

Could he really save you, like he said? Or was he just a sick old man with a fantasy? One he’d fulfill before tossing you out just as easily as he’d taken you in.

You sigh heavily and sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You finally decide you have to leave this bedroom sometime and face Joel again to see if those same confusing feelings from last night persist, or even to clear the air between you two. You freshen up a bit with a toothbrush and homemade toothpaste that Joel had left out for you before fixing your hair to an acceptable enough level. You creep out of the bedroom, soft and quiet movements with socks padding your feet as you listen to hear what Joel is up to downstairs. No sounds of cookware or silverware clinking on plates, no rustling on the pages of a book, no distant sound of him chopping wood outside again. Until you do hear something.

A sound almost in between a whimper and a groan, and it’s right there, the door diagonally down the hall from yours. You freeze, brows knit together as you wait to try to hear it again. The next time you hear it, it’s more urgent, more gruff, a loud exhale. Was it a pained sound? You couldn’t quite tell as you walked closer, noticing the light spilling from a crack in Joel’s door out into the dim, windowless hallway.

One peek through the opening in his door has your eyes widening. A gasp sticks itself in your throat but you clap your hand over your mouth when you take in the sight before you. Shit…

All your eyes immediately focus on is Joel’s cock, heavy and thick, hanging out of his pants in a tight grasp in his hand. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, practically in perfect view through this open sliver in the doorway. His eyes are closed, lost in the moment as he grunts a little bit more. You avert your eyes almost immediately, standing frozen with your cheeks burning. You’re not completely unaware, and you do have an idea of what he’s doing. You can’t help but flick your eyes back to him as another strained exhale leaves his lips, your eyes drifting down to where he’s sliding his hand in quick jerks. His cock is pink and slick as he runs his hand along it, and you start to tune into the lewd, sloppy sounds that it's all making as flesh hits flesh over and over again. You squirm in place, feeling your knees go a bit weak before you finally notice it.

Your underwear.

It feels like something screeches to a halt inside of you, everything moving in slower motion for a few seconds as this information sinks in. Joel’s face, turning more red and eyes rolling back as he pumps his cock with your underwear from yesterday in his other hand, a fist tightly wrapped around the material. You shudder, but find the little zing traveling further to a spot right between your legs, making you clench your thighs together tighter.

It’s all so… so… a feeling you can’t quite explain that starts to make your skin hot, and a scene you don’t know if you want to stop watching. You are just curious after all, you lie to yourself in those few seconds of continued peeking on Joel’s private moment.

You sense a difference in his movements, flashing your sight up to his face where his eyes are open now, gaze locked on yours, heavy lidded as a smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t stop, though, like you thought he would, and it practically steals the breath from your lungs.

“Oh… sh- sorry,” you blurt out, panicky and quiet before you can think about it, covering your eyes with your palm and hastily pulling the door shut.

Joel can’t stop smiling, a wry, devilish thing as he continues in fast, long strokes on his cock. You knowing exactly what he’s doing in here is only urging him on even more, the look in your eyes as he’d caught your stare on his glistening, ruddy cock making him harder.

His smile grows when he realizes you haven’t stopped enjoying the show, not at all, despite your appearances of shutting the door behind you. What he realizes you don’t know, is that he can see the shadow of your feet underneath the door, tiny, anxious movements that catch the light and cast shadows.

If you want to listen, he’s surely not going to disappoint you, another little groan slipping past his lips and he tightens his grip and speeds up, picturing you in his mind. He can practically see it now, one of your perfect little hands clasped over your mouth outside his door, trying not to make a peep, your body rigid as you lean closer to listen. Those perfect little hands that should never have to lift a finger, should always be taken care of. A pulse of pleasure wracks his body at the thought of him being the one to do that for you.

“Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuuuuck…”

A few more swift tugs on his length and he’s stuffing your underwear right at the head of his cock, thrusting once and cumming hard into the fabric with a loud moan, the only thing on his mind the mental image of you in nothing but these.

He’s not too weak to admit he’s already completely addicted to you. Your pretty face, the way you’d finally given him those few little smiles yesterday. How you fit so wonderfully in his arms last night once you’d decided that you needed him. Joel knows he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you as his, to make sure you understand just what you need, how you need him. He sighs as he leans back a moment, then stares down at your underwear, his creamy release staining it now looking like one of the most beautiful sights. To paint you with it himself would nearly kill him, send him into a point of no turning back. No, there’s no doubt now that he’s addicted to this… And god help anyone who tries to take it from him, even you.

The moment you hear Joel’s longer, drawn out groan you scurry away, light as can be on your feet and tiptoe down the stairs in a hurry. The mortification you’d feel if he opened the door to you standing there listening in is more than you can bear. You wish you hadn't been curious, hadn’t wanted to stop and stare just to watch just a bit longer. It wasn’t your fault that you felt completely embarrassingly lost when it came to… sex, but you know it was wrong to invade Joel’s privacy like that. He had left the door cracked, hadn’t he, though? Your brain devours the information, barely able to latch onto that train of thought before the next one comes barreling in.

You pace back and forth in the kitchen, hands wrung anxiously over and over again in front of you. You gaze at the staircase practically every millisecond, waiting for Joel to come down, wondering if he will. You two have to confront this, right? He knows what you saw, and you certainly know what you saw, the image burned into your mind now. All the details seem hazy in your panic, but all you can think about is your underwear in his hands, and how your current pair feel damp now against your own will. You’d felt this before - attraction and arousal - but not like this. You had been so close to everything this time, not just hearing stories or thinking about kissing a boy you thought was good looking. This was a full fledged man, pleasuring himself right in the next room to you. It makes you break out in a sweat, your body hot and breathing shallow as the floorboards creak under your rushing movements.

You sigh and continue pacing for another moment before trying to make yourself busy by putting on the kettle, maybe to make some tea, something to calm your frayed nerves. If Joel didn’t wind up kicking you straight back out into the wilderness after that debacle, you’d be surprised. Maybe you should think about kicking yourself out to avoid any of this awkwardness. You make a split second decision to grab your things and go, your first steps out of the kitchen interrupted by heavy footfall upstairs, lazily making its way down to you.

You stand frozen, your plan quickly forgotten when you see Joel, moving with confidence, his steps nonchalant and unhurried as he approaches with a satisfied look on his face. Not angry, not embarrassed, just a casual, almost smug look plastered on his features. You look at a spot past him before dipping your eyes to the floor, your face already heated and flushed. He’s wearing jeans again but this time with a plain, moss green henley shirt rolled halfway up his forearms. Another shirt showing off his strong, muscular form, and it’s killing you inside, especially now that you’ve seen just that much more of him.

“Sit,” he says plainly, finishing his walk to the kitchen table where he pulls out a chair, settling himself down. When you dare to glance in his direction, he’s giving you a look that sends a shudder up your spine, already knowing he’s about to ask much less nicely if you don’t heed his words. Your shaky hand pulls out a chair, perching yourself on the edge, hands holding on to one another for dear life in your lap. You feel like a child about to be scolded for doing something naughty, and you suppose in many ways that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

“J-“ you start, with Joel cutting you off before you can even get a syllable out.

“You enjoy listenin’ to that little show? Gettin’ a little peek?” Joel asks smoothly, a hint of irritation but also gratification in his tone. He leans forward onto the table with his forearms pressed against the wood.

“N-no I didn’t… I mean I didn’t see much. I didn’t hear… I swear. I’m really sorry, that just made things so… uncomfortable…” you ramble on, feeling like a bumbling idiot as you’re sure your body is about to catch fire.

“Did it?” Joel asks, eyebrow lifted in casual questioning. It makes you stop, your lips sitting parted with words you can’t express, clouded by confusion.

“Well… didn’t it? I’m - I don’t know what’s… normal… That didn’t feel…” Your eyes search his face wildly, and you know he can see you, trembling like a fawn stood in the clearing of a forest just before it bolts.

Joel sighs out a long exhale. “Seems like you enjoyed it, standin’ outside my door.” He states it as a fact, not a guess, and your stomach twists as it sinks. How he knows is beyond you, and you can only sit in your shame now, eyes fixed downwards on the table. You’ve never found knots in wood so interesting before as you stay transfixed by the glossy surface.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of. Just curious, weren’t ya?” he says, his voice rumbling softly. His hand inches towards you across the table and you finally get the nerve to look up at his eyes. They’ve gone gentler, full of understanding. You’re sure your expression gives everything away, your shock, your intrigue at what you’d witnessed. “Weren’t you?” he asks again, and you finally give him a little nod.

His lips twitch upwards in a wry grin just as the kettle starts to whistle, the sound ramping up rapidly into the silent room. You both stare at each other for a few moments, still processing your answer to him. The screeching reaches a fever pitch, making your skin start to crawl, so you push your chair out in a hurry to grab it off the stove. Joel’s hand shoots out, his large hand snatching your thigh, fingers wrapping around and digging into the flesh through your sweatpants. You halt, your ass plopping right back into the chair as Joel stares at you through narrowed eyes.

“I’ve got it,” he says sternly. He waits a moment longer, making sure you’re fully seated and about to heed his words before standing up. The kettle is at a deafening scream, but Joel seems in no hurry, sauntering over to the stove. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the sound tapers off, Joel setting the kettle to the side while he busies himself with reaching up to some open shelving along the wall where you see several jars full of different types of tea leaves. He’s silent, moving slowly, as if to make you sweat it out, and you admit that his plan is working. You don’t know the last time you felt such an odd, burning fear inside of you. Different than facing infected, than being so hungry without knowing where your next meal is coming from. It’s primal, deep down inside of you, meek little claws in a vice grip at the core of you, a burning that travels downward repeatedly, right between your legs. You notice you’ve started trembling without even realizing it.

He brings a steaming mug over, setting it on the table in front of you. It smells mainly of chamomile, maybe some lavender - you see Joel read your mind on wanting something for your nerves. Instead of retaking his seat across from you, he walks around the table, doing a slow, deliberate lap. His feet, although shoe-less, make an impact along the floor, and you feel like each one sounds like a drum along with the way your heart is beating in your ears. He circles back and pauses behind your chair, sliding his forearm across your chest, tucking it close to your neck.

You really were trapped now. Not just by your own mental doing, unable to make yourself leave at the first sign of trouble with this man for god knows what reason, but truly, physically ensnared by his embrace. His arm wraps tighter across the top of your chest, his hand squeezing on the shoulder where it snakes around.

“Tell me…” he leans closer, lips coming to your ear, a hint of a smirk in his tone although you can’t see his face now. “That the first cock you ever seen? Or just the first time you seen one like mine?”

Your head swims, unsure of how to answer. He has you trapped with this question, either answer damning to you. You sputter and scoff out a chuckle, shaking your head.

“No, you say? Which one, honey, c’mon it’s a simple question.” His arm tightens, fingers digging in along your shoulder. “No judgement here, just a curious man, thas’ all.” He says the words as if he’s expectant of a certain answer for you, following a hunch and looking to confirm it for himself. He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows you so effortlessly, reads your mind like it’s the simplest thing in the world. You worry he sees right through you right down to your debased thoughts, the ones where you give in to him and these foreign feelings you want to chase.

You shake your head again. “I haven’t…” Your cheeks burn with the confession, hoping he won’t make you actually say the words. You struggle uncomfortably in his grip, his scent invading your senses now as well, mint and leftover coffee from this morning and your stomach burns so hot you think you might be sick now. He responds with a tighter grasp, his arm starting to press a bit on your windpipe.

Joel blows out a breath, the sound nearly grating next to your ear. “Never seen a cock before till today? Till you saw mine the way you did? That so, darlin’?” He sounds amazed, excitement creeping into his voice.

You swallow hard, fighting back tears, but you nod for him. “Y-yes…” you admit with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to cry again in front of Joel.

“Oh, hey, hey, that’s okay. Must be an awful lot to see it jus’ like that, no context for any of it…” he murmurs, his voice oozing a sick sympathy as you sense his excitement building. “Shouldn’t have had to see it as a surprise. If it were up to me, darlin’, I’d have made sure it was perfect. Y’would’ve been amazed by the things a cock like mine can do for ya.”

He tuts quietly, his lips grazing along the shell of your ear. You squirm a little, your breathing picking up as you strain against him. You remember how much you’d liked his lips right under your ear last night, how badly you’d wanted to hate it, but here you were yet again, enjoying it.

“Now I’m gonna ask you somethin’, honey, and I want you to be honest with me, mkay?” Joel says. Your options feel limited so you motion with a nod for him to go on, his arm digging into your throat further when your head bobs down.

“Be honest, now, remember.” He squeezes your shoulder hard. “How old are ya, honey?” His lips graze your ear again and your legs tense, thighs pressing together. You nearly have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the little moan that wants to slip out of you.

You chew your lip, telling him the truth before you can even think about it too hard. “I’m nineteen.” You don’t know why you tell him the truth, why you give him any part of you, but you do.

“Hmm,” he murmurs in a low little groan. His fingers brush along your shoulder, across your chest a bit, loosening his tight grip. “Thank you for tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart. I appreciate that.”

“H-how old are you?” you ask in return, getting a haughty chuckle from Joel.

“Older’n you,” he says simply, a little growl caught in the back of his throat as his nose buries itself in your hair, taking in a deep breath.

“B-but I told you…” you whimper a little as he tightens his hold again, leaning further to press his head into your shoulder and neck.

“Why d’ya wanna know? Wonderin’ why an old man like me is gettin’ your panties wet?” he asks, amused at your expense, knocking you down just one more peg.

You blink hard and feel yourself flushing again, warmth radiating throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips. You’re angry that he seems to know every damn thing about you, and you feel like you know nothing about what he’s thinking. “I don’t understand… any of it. Why -“

“It’s all natural, sweetheart. Happens when you find yourself likin’ what I’m doin’,” Joel tells you, voice starting to sweeten like honey. His hand strokes your hair, smoothing the sides.

“I know…” you bite back, only to feel Joel move his forearm closer to your neck. Your breath hitches. “I just mean… I - I want to know how old you are.”

“You persistent little thing…” He smirks again, looking impressed by you. “I’m in my fifties, that’s all y’need to know.” He pauses for a brief second, not wasting a second to keep contact with your skin, his calloused fingertips stroking along the hollow of your neck. They trickle down, gentle and fluid as water as he ghosts along your chest and over your stomach. You shudder and try to keep your eyes open, succumbing to the pleasure of it all - nobody has ever touched you like this, taken their time to feel you out and seem interested in every part of you. It’s a slow, tortuous movement while his arms reach down over you, thick muscles on display, until his fingertips brush along your waistband. They trace back and forth along the crimped edges of the band, tied tightly. He plays with the strings, a clear contemplation to untie them any second. It makes you start to tremble even more, the way you feel powerless and know you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to.

Joel abruptly stops, pulling his arms back before he starts to walk around the chair, standing in front of you now. He doesn’t crouch to your height, standing tall and proud as he towers over where you sit. His fingers reach forward slowly and gently, thumb and forefinger taking your chin delicately, holding it like something he might break. You can finally see his expression, look into his eyes, and they’re a dark abyss full of mystery and that hungry look he’d flashed at you a few times yesterday.

“Get the sense you’re feelin’ a bit scared right now, hm?” he suddenly asks.

You swallow and then nod for him, eyes barely blinking as you try to keep track of every single movement he makes. His grip on your chin flashes tighter for just a moment before he lets it go, leaving a little red mark in his wake.

“Good girl.”

Your stomach turns as you realize he wants this, wants your fear to permeate the room so he can devour it, to know that he has this hold on you. Joel leans forward, one hand planted on the table next to you, the other coming down to rest on your thigh. He’s tender in his touch, letting his hand soothingly find its way up your leg.

Joel’s eyes bore into you, trying to capture your attention and hold it, but you can barely summon the courage to look into those dark pools, worried they’ll draw you in forever. Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on your shaky inhales and exhales as Joel’s hand rubs your thigh.

“Don’t you like it, sweetheart? Feels good to be touched here, doesn’t it?” You don’t answer him, eyes squeezed shut even tighter, a quiver starting on your lips. You try to ignore the way your body responds to the touch, skin blazing right where he’s touching and that pooling of heat starting between your legs.

“Now c’mon, open your eyes f’me. I want to take care of you, honey. Jus’ like we agreed to last night. You need me to take care of everythin’ for ya, never make you have to worry or lift a pretty little finger again. I can show you everything.” Joel pauses, waiting to see if you’ll heed his command. His hand wraps a little tighter around your thigh, fingers squeezing.

“I said… look at me. Open your eyes. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” His voice has a shake to it from trying to keep it even amongst his building frustration, his desire to have you under his thumb already. You finally brave it, your eyes opening slowly to find a softer smile playing on Joel’s lips as his face comes into focus, just a few inches from yours now.

“I want you all to myself… d’you understand what I’m sayin’?”

You nod. His smile grows, much more foreboding now.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, fingers squeezing your thigh again, brushing his thumb along the inner part, sending a set of sparks hurtling up your spine. “And you’ll stay? Won’t try to get away from me, will you?” he asks, a wicked raise of his eyebrow telling you there’s only one correct answer here.

Your face falls a little bit. “Wh- what would you do if did?” you dare to ask.

He laughs, a mirthless chuckle before he can even stop himself. “Oh, honey, what’re you gonna do? Where’ll you go? You wouldn’t get barely ten steps outside this door ‘fore I got to ya.” His eyes pierce yours before studying your face for a few moments, challenging you. “Best that you don’t even try, yeah?”

You don’t reply, hoping that the fear in your eyes and trembling lips are answer enough for him.

“Come and sit w’me, how about that? I’ve got a few more questions for you.” Joel offers you his hand and you pause, eyes fixed on his tan, rough skin - hands that have worked hard for an entire lifetime. He takes the initiative to grasp your hand instead, giving you a quick tug that has you standing up to start following him. He completely dwarfs you in every way, his hand practically enveloping your entire fist as he pulls you along towards the couch.

You don’t know what otherworldly urge possesses you so suddenly, but you glance over towards the door, then back at Joel before you muster up everything you have and shove him square in the back, yanking your captured hand back in the process. He stumbles forward, your hand slipping from his and you quickly gain your balance and bolt. You reach the front door, fumbling with the lock and knob as you hear Joel grunt loudly behind you.

“Don’t you understand? There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” he calls after you angrily. You don’t dare turn around as you fling the door open with a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, feet moving of their own accord as you sprint down the stairs and towards the oncoming woods. You can hear Joel’s huffs behind you, both of your shoe-less feet pounding on the frozen earth. It hurts, the cold ground combined with all types of brush and wood littering the forest floor that are now jabbing into your feet with every step. This was stupid, this was a mistake, you’re going to die out here if he doesn’t do it first.

“God… damn… it…” you hear Joel pant behind you, knowing he’s close, that it’s almost over now. You’re weak and frail still, much too slow to outrun a towering powerhouse like Joel. He was right - there’s no fighting it, no escape from here unless he allows it. Maybe it won’t be so bad… maybe you do enjoy the way he speaks to you, the way he’s been touching you… maybe it’ll all be just what you’ve needed. You’ve always wanted more than what you had, wishing for someone to care just a little more, to have a family again.

You lose yourself to an almost transcendent train of thought, letting it wash over you. As if the universe was trying to tell you the right decision, you feel your foot collide with something sharp and you stumble, a sure way to get you back into Joel’s arms. He catches you as you go down, upper arm squeezed into his grasp as his other wraps around and yanks you by the front of your collar, tearing your shirt all the way down to the middle of your chest as he tugs. You’re pulled into his chest with a hard thud before you both go down with the momentum of it all, his body landing on top of yours on the hard, frozen earth.

“God damn it, girl, what the hell you think you’re doin’, huh?” Joel huffs out, arms pinning you down by the wrists as he breathes heavily right in your face. You grunt and struggle, squirming against the ground, but it only serves to help Joel push you into the frosty dirt even harder, his own grunts slipping out of his lips.

“Like it when you struggle…” he says closer to your ear, leaning down. His lips turn into a chilling leer as he bares his teeth down at you. “But too bad we can't play a little longer, you’ll freeze out here. Get up,” he demands, pulling back and then fluidly plucking your body up off the ground as he stands. He hooks one of his arms through yours and begins drags you, your feet scrambling to keep up with how quickly he’s moving.

You’d barely gotten far, just like he said you would - it’s only a short distance back to the cabin where he slams you against the wall, clutching one hand around your throat, not hard enough to put much pressure, just to show you he could, if he really wanted to. His body crowds closer as your back presses against the hard, unrelenting wooden logs adorning the outer frame of the cabin. The chill of the air settles in and you shiver, feet throbbing and chest prickling with goosebumps from the frozen air entering your lungs in large heaves.

“Told ya, girl. You don’t need to go anywhere. All y’need is right here. I can do anythin’ I want with ya, can’t I?” He spits his words out angrily, eyes blazing. His head is cocked, looking down on you with scornful, yet hopeful eyes. His gaze travels to your chest, the way your shirt is torn to almost reveal everything there, eyes flickering hotly on the sight. Both of you stand with huffing breaths, chests heaving and letting out little cloudy puffs of air as your exhales hit the air.

You nod, whimpering as his grip gets slightly tighter around your throat when you don’t answer right away. Your entire body trembles against him, afraid you’ll collapse any second as your knees buckle. His entire frame is pressed against you, keeping you upright, the warmth of him the only thing keeping you grounded and afloat right now.

“Thas’ right, it’s just me ‘n you out here. I’ll take real good care of ya, never let anyone hurt ya again. Ever.” A hand snakes around to your hair, smoothing it as he pulls your head off the wall, tracing his palm down as he pets you. “Now c’mon.” He yanks your entire body by the waist, holding you close as he hauls you back inside, pulling the door shut behind you two and locking it.

Joel brings you to his original destination before you’d run - the couch - and sits back, pulling you down with him, maneuvering you to settle on his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands wrap around your back in a possessive, tight hold. You squirm a little bit, the feeling of him enveloping you like this making you hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out over your entire body.

“S-stop…” you mumble as you continue to struggle, his hands only seeming to get stronger the more effort you put in. You start to shove and push at his chest and one of his arms comes from around your back to catch your wrists in one fell swoop, pinning them against his chest.

“Better knock that shit off quick,” he commands, grunting as he continues to hold your squirming body. “You got me offerin’ you everything I know you want, and all I ask is you do what I want, sweet girl. Be here w’me.” His tone is somehow cruel and hard but soft and caring at once, like he really believes that he needs to act this way to care for you right now.

“N-no, you’re hurting me,” you cry out. “You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me…” You think that maybe your reasoning will have any kind of effect on him, and he only smiles softly. It disarms you a little, your struggle starting to die out as you look at the hidden anger behind the smile, the desire to let out the hidden beast within him.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” he says, letting go of your wrists to grip your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them together. Your hands fall limply to your sides, skin burning on your cheeks where he’s pressing in harder. “Only I can make you feel pain. Nobody else. Nobody’s gonna hurt you when I’m around. And I’m the only one who can make y’feel good too, understand? But if you’re not gonna be a good girl ‘n pull this shit, I can’t help what I’ve gotta do to get you back to bein’ good, hm?” His eyes track across your face, awaiting a response.

You shake your head in small movements, squeezing your eyes shut and squirming one final time to try to slide off his lap. He sees your desperate eyes and his blood rushes a little hotter through him, tugging you harshly to situate you back perfectly centered on his lap.

“Please…” you whimper quietly, unsure of what you’re asking for now. To be let go? To be held tighter? For someone to just make it all okay?

Joel drops your cheeks from his tight grip and looks at you a little more sympathetically. “Okay, okay, c’mon, no more strugglin’ sweet girl. I’ve got you. Not gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help ya.”

He leans forward and his lips find your neck, peppering wet, urgent kisses from just underneath your chin all the way down to your collarbone. It’s all too much, the emotions bubbling up as the adrenaline leaves your body. You shake a little, feeling the now all too familiar sting of tears behind your eyes that quickly manifest as tears that roll down your cheeks. Joel must sense a heave in your chest as you try to hold back your sob because he pulls his lips off of you and looks up to see your eyes shining as tears start to fall at a more rapid pace.

“Shh, shh,” he coos. Both of his arms wrap around your back and pull you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your head drops instinctively to his body and you find yourself wrapping your arms tightly around his neck before burying your face in his chest.

“Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. Let it all out… shh…” Joel says quietly, his palms splayed along your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. You finally break completely, finally let yourself sob. Your entire body is wracked with shaking heaves of breath each time you start another wave of tears. You bury yourself deeper into Joel’s chest, your face burning red hot with embarrassment, but unable to stop nonetheless. He’s warm and soft against you, the comforting fabric of his shirt soaking up the tears you pour out.

Joel continues his soothing ministrations, his hands uncharacteristically kind and sweet, holding the back of your head against him now, like he’s encouraging this, even, this release of emotion from you. It makes you sob even harder to realize the only person you have in this world to comfort you is a man you met yesterday, one who hasn’t shown you a consistent side to himself since then. You don’t know how long you cry for, the last two weeks of pure desperation and the flood of emotions since meeting Joel have all collided into this one meltdown, Joel’s chest taking the brunt of it as you continue sobbing.

“Oh, that’s it, there we go…” he hums calmly, his chin resting on the top of your head as he keeps stroking along your back. You finally start to let up, choking back little sobs as they climb their way up your throat.

“Jus’ breathe… there ya go, honey. Take some deep breaths for me now, okay?” Joel says calmly, continuing to chant little encouragements in your ear. You turn your face to lay the side of your cheek along Joel’s chest for a moment, a few remaining hiccups shaking your body as you sniffle. Your entire face feels puffy, like everything is two sizes too big for you now, cheeks wet and sticky as your tears start to dry. You slowly lift your head up and Joel quickly catches your face between his hands, thumbs going to work wiping your tears.

“Beautiful…” he murmurs as his eyes scan your flushed, glowing face. His lips turn into a gentle, small smile while he continues to wipe down your cheeks for a moment longer. “Now don’t that feel better?” Joel looks at you with concern now, his head tilting as his fingers continue to stroke along your face. You look so broken and fragile right now - the thought exciting him, sending a twitch beneath his jeans that he doesn't even have the mind to be ashamed of. You're close... so close to being his.

“I g-guess…” you murmur, unable to say if it really does feel much better. You feel lighter now, unburdened of the pent up emotions that had been weighing you down the last few weeks, but you still had to grapple with the fact that you were here now, with a dangerous man who seemed intent on keeping you here no matter what.

“Listen, darlin’...” Joel starts, a heavy sigh escaping him. “You’re too sweet for this world, you deserve to be protected… That’s all I’m tryin’ to say here, to do here. You wanna know what I thought when I first saw ya?”

Your eyes widen in curiosity, letting him go on.

“Thought that the universe sent me a gift. One look at ya and I knew you had to be all mine. Like y’were made for me, I swear it…” he gushes before his eyes go more serious. “I can show you how good it all feels, sweetheart, d’you understand?”

You shake your head slowly. “S-show me how good what feels?” you ask tentatively.

Joel leans forward, his lips brushing along your jawline then ghosting to that sensitive spot under your ear. His breath tickles you in just the right way and you shudder, hating that he seems to have pinpointed your weakness.

“Show you… just how good it feels… to submit to me.” His lips press onto your neck gently, his tongue poking out to taste the salt of your skin. “Show you what your place is here.” He sucks a little harder on your neck, eliciting a tiny sound from the back of your throat. “I’ll give you everything, you’ll see. I can see you want it, sweet girl. I can see how badly you need it.” His hips thrust upwards into yours on his last words, grinding against you slightly. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips kiss your neck again, rough but gentle, as Joel always seems to be. You squirm, your body and mind still mixing signals with each other, unsure if you’re fleeing or giving in.

You consider his words heavily, the weight of them pressing down on your chest, nearly choking you. It makes your entire body tingle, the way he’d said the word submit, not even fully understanding all of what that would entail. But he’s right, you do need someone, you need something in your life that won’t fail you or run or disappear. You’re desperate for it at this point, needing it like you need air and water. You’ve seen nothing but loss and sadness and lived with a desperation to just be loved and cared for in the deepest ways.

Maybe it was fate, like he said. Maybe you were meant to stumble into that clearing just at the right time, just when you so fiercely needed everything he’s offering to you.

He pulls back and stares into your eyes, trying to read the look behind them, trying to gauge how you’ll respond as you sit silently. You feel tears building on the rims of your eyes again, quickly wiping them away before they can fall.

“Let me show you, hm? How I’ll take care of you.” He thumbs your chin as he stares at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. “We need to get some more food in you, darlin’. Barely ate a thing yesterday.” His bargains immediately begin to work as you notice your stomach rumbling and empty again as if on cue. You nod slightly and he gives you a half smile.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “Now hold on tight.” Before you can question him further on why, he’s lifting you up off the couch, and your arms scramble to fling around his neck so you don’t fall backwards. Your legs wrap around his middle for extra support as he carries you to the kitchen table, settling you down on top of it now, legs dangling off the side as he lets go of his grip under your thighs. You find yourself reluctant to untangle your arms and legs from his warm, safe body, but he begins to pull away, heading for the fridge. You watch him with a frown as he bends down, shuffling a bit in the fridge before pulling out an item wrapped in a thin cloth. He opens a breadbox on the counter and reaches in, tearing off a chunk of bread before plating it and unwrapping the block, revealing some type of cheese.

“Sheeps cheese from Jackson. And some bread I made. Should tide y’over till dinner time, don’t you think?” he asks, bringing the plate over. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, a silent command that you follow mindlessly before he steps in between your thighs. One hand brushes along your thigh as he gets closer to you, eyes pasted right onto yours. His near glare is nearly too much to keep focused on as he grabs the piece of bread and brings it up to your lips. You pause, gaze faltering as you scan his face, a little stunned.

“Y’need some food, darlin’. Now eat.” Another command, another test to see how pliant you are, how willing you are to accept the entire package he offered you. You crane your neck forward enough to bite down on the piece, tearing some off as he holds it for you, never breaking eye contact with him. His eyes quickly flash back to a satisfied, pleasant look from the darkness that had threatened them moments ago.

“Good girl.” The words burrow in a little more, your thighs tightening against his, sending Joel gazing down with a smirk pulling at his lips. “Another,” he says quietly, holding the bread up to your lips again. You don’t falter this time, taking a quick bite and chewing as Joel smiles down at you, letting his thumb brush across your lips.

“You’re bein’ so good f’me now, what happened?” he says smugly, picking up the cheese and feeding you again. Each time he does it, you take the food more eagerly, Joel stepping closer until he’s pressed against the table, his hips as close as they can be to the apex of your thighs. You can sense the excitement radiating off of him now, the pure satisfaction that you’re not putting up a fight, accepting the care he’s pouring out onto you.

“Now you see how I can take care of you, darlin’? That’s just a small thing, honey, makin’ sure you get fed. Now tell me how much you appreciate it, hm?”

You feel your cheeks warming up at the blatant coaxing from Joel, the way the heat of his body presses so close to you now as his finger lingers on your lip after the last scrap of bread goes in.

“T-thank you, Joel,” you say, quiet and mousy as you avert your eyes downward.

“Oh, such a good girl.” He pets the top of your head down the side, stroking a gentle, long path down to your shoulder. “Feel better now that we got you full?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Y-yes, thank you.” Mousy. Quiet. The way Joel seems to like, the way that you can’t help but be when he questions you like this, when his eyes search your depths so intensely. Your heart clenches at just how quickly he’s already worked his way in, has you saying just what you know he wants to hear.

“Not bad for an old man baking bread, huh?” he asks, winking as he caresses your cheek. You tilt your head down, failing to conceal your little smile in time as a breathy chuckle makes its way out of you. You can sense the lightness fill Joel and the entire room as he notices, cocking his head and leaning closer to you.

“That a smile I see, darlin’? You think it’s funny to call me an old man?”

You shake your head, pulling your lips tight to suppress your smile. “N-no, you’re n-not…”

“Oh, too sweet, ain’t you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, drawing you close again. “Y’know, you’re so pretty when you smile. This old man’d like to see more of that, y’know.”

Your smile falls quickly as discomfort settles in again at the way he’d cracked through your façade just now. “Why haven’t you just… hurt me yet? Or done what you want with me and tossed me out?” you ask suddenly, blurting the words out before you can think twice about the possible consequences.

Joel clicks his tongue and lets his lips part slightly, showing his surprise - a rare moment from such a guarded man.

“That what you think this is?” he asks quietly, forebodingly. The pure control in his voice is a skill that you can tell he’s exercised many times. “Just want to squeeze the life outta you and toss your body out for the damn animals? Or fuck you senseless then turn you to the cold? You really think that little of me after I fed you, clothed you, helped you?”

He doesn’t sound quite angry, but something deeper that takes a minute for you to register - you’ve hurt him. Wounded his ego, made a dent in this brick wall of a man. A power you suddenly wish you didn't have over him.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” you admit. “You scare me.”

He leans forward, his dark irises going icy as he captures your rapt attention with this one single glance.

“I should,” he spits out with a twitch of his lip. “But only if you give yourself reason to, yeah? I never want to hurt you, sweetness, never.” He goes softer, brushing a finger along your cheek, sending you trembling with a quivering lip. “Jus’ want you to be here w’me, lettin’ me take good care of you, and you do the same f’me. Somethin’ so beautiful here, you ‘n I…”

You sigh heavily, your body slumping in defeat. You’re exhausted, your nerves frayed and mind overstimulated from all of the inconsistencies, the back and forth with him. If what he says is true, if he wants to treat you kindly, give you all he’s promised, you know what he expects in response. You can feel it in the undertone of every word he says, every tiny movement when he touches you. He wants you to belong to him, to have you sucked so completely into his world there’s no going back. To have you fear him and look in wonder at him and worship at his feet and let him touch you and feel you and be completely yours and you be completely his. Your head spins, a dizzy sickness overtaking you at how utterly lost you feel right now. How badly you crave it and are equally repulsed by it.

You dip your head down, eyes on your lap as you let the wave of churning fear wash over you.

“Eyes up, darlin’,” Joel reminds you, fingers tracing on your thigh to get your attention.

“I… believe you,” you say, turning your gaze to him again. It’s not an answer yet, not a yes or no or anything at all. A fact.

“I know you do,” he says, a serious expression curling into a smile. “Only say what I mean. Are we clear, then?”

Joel’s face inches closer to yours, leaving just a few inches between you, now. “Y-yes,” you mutter, rapidly scanning over his eyes to try to read anything there but the inky darkness that seems to permeate above all else.

“Good,” he says proudly. “Now gimme a smile, darlin’. Need to see you lookin’ happier ‘round here.”

You pull your lips into a tight smile that seems to suffice for Joel as he carries on, moving until his lips hover just above yours. You notice yourself starting to tremble a little bit, shoulders tightening up, and Joel holds you close as his brows come together.

“You ever kiss a man like me, darlin’?” he whispers, licking his lips.

Your lips part, words failing you for a moment as you contemplate him. Your throat is suddenly dry and itchy as you glance down at Joel’s lips. “N-no…” You shake your head. “I haven’t… haven’t been with… anyone…”

Joel stills completely for what feels like minutes, his lips twisted to the side in a wry smile now. “You sayin’ you’re a virgin?” he asks bluntly, his hands naturally tightening their grip on your back, fingers digging in as they slide a little lower towards your waist.

Your face burns first, then your entire body is set aflame as embarrassment sets in. You know you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you can sense Joel’s experience, almost having some strange need to impress him with your own, coming up empty. Your eyes look down, staring at the middle of his shirt before you nod once, blinking away a quick sting of tears at your sudden humiliation.

“Christ,” Joel bites back all the things he wants to say for a moment and tuts as he notices your glassy eyes, scraping his fingers along your back. He tightens his hold on your waist and tugs you even closer so that your hips are flush with his. He moves his lips right next to your ear, making you shudder as they brush close enough to touch for a moment. “Had a feelin’. You have no idea… how turned on that makes me, sweet girl.”

Joel’s crude words have you gasping a little, a breath caught in your throat as you stutter out a sound to try to answer him. His lips press on your neck again, kissing a little more fervently down to your collarbone and then he pulls back, one hand going to your face to cup your cheek.

“Such an innocent little thing… so sweet…” he murmurs. “‘S okay to touch me, y’know.” Your hands tingle with anticipation as he says that, but you don’t know how to move them, where to move them to, or if you want to touch him.

“I - I don’t…” You shake your head, and Joel captures one of your hands in his, holding it gently and rubbing his fingers along yours.

“I got ya, I’ll show y’everythin’ you need to know, how’s that sound?” he says, gazing down at you intently, waiting with baited breath to hear your response.

“You mean…” you ask, cheeks flushing as you’re unable to finish your sentence. Joel places your hand on his chest, spreading your fingers out to splay across the space between his pecs. He nods softly and you wiggle your fingers a little, feeling the planes of his chest, hard but warm underneath your palm. He glances down to where your hand explores a little more, running your fingers gently over to the right side of his pecs, then the left, and smirks.

“I mean all of it, you sweet little thing. You don’t know how good y’could feel, do you?” Joel breathes a little heavier, his expression losing a bit of its controlled façade, that vague look of craving revealing itself in his eyes again. “I could give you so much… oh, you pretty thing, you need it.” He shakes his head in disbelief of everything he’s learned about you. “Untouched… so innocent…” he says more quietly, his hands finding their way back to your waist, thumbs hooking under the waistband at the back of your pants.

“I’m n-not sure… I-I don’t know -” you stutter as you feel his thumbs touch bare skin before one of his hands trails under your shirt, moving upwards. Your eyes blink a little slower, a flutter of your lashes as his calloused pads scrape along your skin, leaving a blazing trail that tingles all the way to the base of your spine. It pools quickly there, your core starting to heat up as his hand travels higher, the other playing at the hem of your shirt, starting to lift it. Your breath hitches, eyes going wider as your shirt moves, but you don’t squirm, don’t try to stop him.

“Y’do know. I can see you want it, sweetheart, look at how you respond to me…” He breathes in and out a little shakily. “Respond to a man takin’ good care of you…”

“W-what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your back almost halfway exposed to the air.

“Think you know what I’m doin,” Joel huffs a stony hearted chuckle. “Just wanna see how pretty y’are, take a peek, thas’ all.”

You shrink back a little, eyebrows pulled close together, shaking your head in small movements. “I’m scared…” you whimper finally, showing Joel the fear that’s been building deep inside of you. You don’t know how to want this, when to know your body is telling you it’s okay. You’ve somehow lost complete trust in any of your instincts, unsure of where along the way that happened.

“I know, I know,” he purrs, still pulling your shirt higher. His lips dart down to your stomach, where your bare skin is starting to show, kissing sloppily along all the fresh skin he hasn’t seen yet. He starts speaking against your body, kissing in between his words. “Nothin’ to be scared of when you got me though, y’understand? You let me take care of you, and you’ll never worry a day in your life. Be my good girl, my everything. Just gotta trust me.” His nails dig into your back, a sweet, welcome pain, bringing you to the present. It’s too easy to lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his words. Your hand stays steadily placed on his chest, barely daring to move now.

You stare with your mouth open, and at your silence Joel drags his mouth up your chest and to your neck before looking at you expectantly.

“I don’t… know…” you murmur, less convincingly than the other times, an observation that Joel doesn’t fail to notice. He gathers the fabric of your shirt and tugs on the front hem of your shirt, pulling it taut along your back, drawing you closer to him as his lips sit merely an inch from yours.

“Think y’do know,” he says, greedy hands under the front of your shirt now, pulling the hem up. “I’ll be so gentle, honey…” He pulls your shirt up further and you drop your hand from his chest, allowing him the freedom of movement he needs to finish the job.

“Okay…” you whisper, unsure if the two syllables even resonate far enough to reach Joel’s ears. You start to feel your legs trembling as you see his face registering your one word, the only thing he’d needed to hear.

“Good girl,” he breathes out, exuding pure elation. “Oh, I’m gonna make you so happy, darlin’, gonna give y’everythin’.” He practically snarls as his hands get back to work on your shirt, lifting each of your arms to tug them through the sleeves, then tossing your shirt aside after it's over your head.

A growl tumbles out of his throat when he takes in your breasts, and you hunch your shoulders up a little more, your arm flying up to cover your chest now that it's exposed. Joel’s hand grabs your wrist, strongly wrapped around it as he tugs it away.

“Don’t have to hide ‘em from me, nothin’ to hide from me now,” he snaps, tossing your arm back to your side. His hands reach up to tease at the swell of your breasts, and you sit half in shock, letting his fingers send tingles across your skin as he explores your chest. He runs errant fingers down along the curves as he stares downwards. Your breath catches when he rubs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples, you back arching towards him as you gasp.

“So soft ‘n pretty…” He grins, continuing to watch the way his hands work along your skin, a little more rough as he gropes your tits, rolling your nipples just to observe your reaction. The little pinch sends waves of arousal through your body, pooling deep inside of you, making you feel your underwear get damp again. You’re already panting, the sensations he’s bringing out in you so strong that you can hardly contain the little noises slipping out of you as he continues touching your chest.

“I - I’m…” you pant. “Joel…”

He pauses for just a moment, leaning closer and brushing his lips across your cheek. “Know you’re feelin’ good, aren’t ya?”

You nod dumbly, completely awestruck as he pinches your nipples again, sending your back arching and hips pressing into his. It’s maddening and confusing all in one, the way he’s able to work your body like this and make you feel a hot burning starting to blaze across your skin.

“Pretty girl never had her tits touched, has she?”

You shake your head urgently, a breathy moan pulled out of your throat as he pinches and tugs a little harder on the hard buds. “P-please… stop… it’s too…” you whine, scrunching your face, unsure if you actually want him to stop. You feel wild, feral almost, the strangest sensation pulling at your insides as he tugs one more time.

Joel smirks in satisfaction, going back to caressing you more lightly, giving you some relief. One hand travels down to rest on your hip, the other up to your face to cradle your cheek in his palm.

“You’re fun to play with, jus’ like I thought you’d be…” Joel muses as he touches your face. “You’re bein’ so good f’me, too, honey. Lettin’ me see you ‘n touch you.” He looks at you almost curiously now, like he’s studying you.

“Think you deserve a little reward for bein’ so good for me, finally seein’ some sense.” He pauses, watching your face morph into a soft, intrigued look. “How’s that sound, hm?” he asks, pinching your cheek.

You tilt your head at him. “A reward? Wh-“

“Exactly. If you act like a good girl, gotta reward ya for it.” Your heart beats a little faster as you take in his words, your thighs clamped as his voice comes out low and teasing. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his fingers around your cheek and pulling you closer as he leans in. “You deserve to feel good, do you realize that? You’ve been denyin’ yourself somethin’ so good, but turns out it was so that I could show ya.”

“I - Joel - I don’t know…” you blurt out, your stomach twisting. The fact you can barely say anything but those same three words over and over is starting to frustrate you.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on me now,” Joel replies, his hand now cradling the back of your head. “You’ll enjoy this.”

He leans forward again, completely closing the gap between the two of you as he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, testing you, and you blink once in surprise, not able to force yourself to press your lips back into his at first. But your body naturally starts to melt into him a little, his hand stroking against the back of your head calming you into submission. Your hands twitch forward, gently touching the bottom hem of his shirt and holding onto it just slightly. The feel of the fabric grounds you as you feel your lips press back into Joel’s, sending a wave of heat over your body. Your cheeks burn and your skin prickles as he groans quietly and pushes his lips a little more aggressively against yours before pulling back slightly.

He looks down at you with a smirk. His hand digs into your waist a little harder, the possession he’s feeling clearly evident.

“Tastes sweet, darlin’,” he says quietly before leaning back in, kissing you again. Your hand tugs a little harder on the bottom of his shirt and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure, like you’re about to burst into a million little parts like a piece of dropped china.

His mouth opens and invites you to do the same, so you follow his lead. You’re frustrated, unsure of yourself, not understanding the way your body just moves with his, mirroring his motions.

Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe your first kiss is supposed to feel just like this. Maybe you’re supposed to be afraid and unsure and terrified yet intrigued in a way you can’t ignore. You wouldn’t know any different, after all, and your body already yearns for Joel to keep going, to press his lips harder onto yours, to feel his warm, soft lips all over you. You don’t even quite understand where the thoughts come from, it’s like your body is telling you without your mind having to get involved.

You open your mouth the tiniest bit, allowing Joel to kiss you deeper. He pulls back just enough to suck a little on your bottom lip and you whimper and your brows scrunch. How… how could it feel so good?

As if to send you asking that question a hundred more times, one of his hands skates his fingers up your spine and you shudder, falling apart just as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nearly gasp but find your own tongue hesitantly brushing against his. He hums quietly in satisfaction, continuing the motions of his tongue with small variations - darting into your mouth, licking your lip.

You feel your entire being aching and warm now with the way Joel is pressed as close as he can, hips flush with yours. You want to move your own hips, to push them further and further, your body urging you on again without telling you quite what it’s doing.

You yank your head back, completely breathless. Joel’s hand scrambles to the back of your head, holding it in place as he devours your lips again, not letting up just yet.

“Wasn’t done w’you yet…” he mumbles before kissing you again, his tongue and lips more aggressive now as his hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping tightly. When he’s had his fill he tucks his head back enough to get a read on your expression, smirking. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the confusion, the struggle, but he welcomes it all, now. He knows he has you - his prize, his to keep, his to take. He can practically feel the ache of want oozing out of your pores now as you sit trembling slightly on the table, your soul and tits bared to him, equally enticing. A perfect paradox, he thinks.

You look so perfect - like a pure, innocent angel sent just for him. He knows you can be exactly what he’s looking for - someone to call his own, to protect and guide and keep close to him. His perfect girl.

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent and musk like it’s the last time he’ll ever get a chance to before his lips rumble against you.

“Lemme take you upstairs, show you how to be mine," he offers, in a way that's not an offer at all, but an instruction, a test.

He’s quiet and seductive with his words, a low, gravelly lilt to his voice that makes your head swim. You’re hazy, a practically drunk feeling coming over you now. You’d tried alcohol once, and you remember feeling a bit like this - cloudy and out of control of your own body.

Before you can stop yourself, body buzzing and lips puffy and parted in need, you nod for him.

reminder i have no taglist now! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs!

#fic: smother #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #x reader #tw: blood #<<< for the cover photo

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psuedosugu · 20 days

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suguru still remembers the moment he realized he fell in love with you.

pt 1 || pt 3

notes: idk how i feel about thisuhhh also im gonna make a discord server so it better not flop 🙏🏾

- well, kind of. since the first day he met you, the day you two went to that boba shop, he had been absolutely captivated by you. your presence was angelic, light and fluffy. there were so, so many moments where you displayed traits that he came to love about you, but one seemed to stick out to him.

the two of you were staying after in class, the building nearly empty besides the two of you, finishing something, something that suguru couldn’t recall (it was far from the most notable thing in that memory, anyways.) eventually you two sidelined into a different conversation. “so, you’ve been here for about…a month?” a month. only a month, but it had felt like so much longer to him. it felt like he had known you his whole life, like you two had somehow been intertwined from the start. “how are you liking it here so far..?” he asked.

you thought it over. “its…different. different than i expected. in a good way, though.” “yeah?” “yeah. its definitely better than back home though.” you paused at that, smile faltering just a bit. “what happened back home?” suguru asked, immediately regretting it after. wasn’t that an invasion of privacy? what if you didn’t wanna share? was he pressuring you? “you don’t have to tell me,” he quickly added.

“no, no, its fine.” you assured him. “my parents were just…” you sigh, “they weren’t really that happy at me being a sorcerer. they actually thought i was possessed up until i was scouted, and they hated me for it, i guess. i think they still do.” suguru looked at you with sympathy in his eyes. “im..im sorry. you don’t deserve that.” you shrugged. “its not like its their fault.” “it is their fault, though.” he said, “no one should hate their child for something they can’t control.” you stayed silent.

“well,” you started, “its not like they knew. they didn’t know anything about sorcery, or curses. that makes them susceptible. at first i was mostly here because i was scared that i would hurt someone on accident with my technique, but now? i want to do something, i want to help people, you know?” suguru thought it over for a bit, and then nodded slowly. “i know what you mean.” you shrug, and maybe that was it for him.

you were so pure and selfless, forgiving, the type of person he wished he was. the rest of the night was a blur to him, as you both returned to your respective dorms, but the thought of you, you, you stuck with him throughout the night.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto jjk #suguru geto #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader

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eluxcastar · 2 months

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The little sisterfication of Arlecchino

── ୨୧：arlecchino & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: little siblingfication final stretch lets gooooo

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child arlecchino, it is fluff and angst at the same time, like hurt/comfort ig? idk, implied child abuse, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 1.9k

there are only two more after this oh god. Pierro and Columbina. I also realised like five seconds ago that Pulcinella is not on the list but tbh Idk if I'll add him in because I kinda don't know what to do for him at all. I could try to make it cute? maybe, I'll see

this started way nicer, but then I remembered the previous Knave was an asshole and quickly replace the vibes that bled over from watching Grease with something darker. The Knave is used to refer to the previous Knave, while Arlecchino refers to our Arle, because I needed some way to distinguish them. I also thought the previous Knave was a dude for some reason?? I fixed it though

all little siblingification posts

Biologically speaking, the two of you are not related in the slightest, but it's not uncommon for children in the House of the Hearth to choose their siblings and stick by them until the inevitable moment they either remain together or are parted by responsibility. You have been there and guided Arlecchino through the orphanage since she first arrived from Fontaine. Arlecchino might've been lost and confused for much longer if not for you.

Instead, she had you, a little older and wiser, to walk her around and teach her how things worked.

The moment she arrived, your guardian, the Knave—now her guardian as well—pulled you over to meet her and asked you to show her around and make her comfortable in her new life. Your new little sister, she called her, and she stared at the woman dumbly before you stole her opportunity to ask him what she was talking about, whisking her away.

You took her to see everything, showing her off to as many people as you ran into and introduced her as you went. She felt like a shiny new toy in an overcrowded playground, and you let her revel in it until it tired her out.

Once the fanfare died down a little bit, you took her to find an unoccupied bed to put her things on. There weren't many, but you offered to help her find a place for them nonetheless. You got a sheet and blanket from the linen closer to make the bed for her and helped her stand a few things up on the headrest to make it her own. Despite her apprehension, you almost managed to make living here seem just a little less bleak; looking over her bed, made and decorated with her stuffed toy and a few personal belongings she'd brought, it felt a little more like home.

You assure her all will be fine, the only thing even close to soothing in the whirlwind that was coming here, and point her in the direction of your bed not too far away. The one with the overcoat laid on the end of it. You always put it there when you're not wearing it, apparently.

She refrains from asking why you're not wearing it and why you own one of the grey and red coats she recognises from the fatui footsoldiers she saw wearing them.

Most importantly, you teach her the rules: behave yourself, clean up after yourself, bedtime is nine pm, and not a minute later, finish your dinner—

"Even if you're full?"

"Even if you're full."

and the most crucial rule: never make the Knave mad.

"Why?"

"Just don't, ok?"��

Arlecchino doesn't dare question why again. You know best, and something in your eyes tells her she should trust that.

Through tense, dreary halls, you lead her with a skilled hand and the favour of the Knave. She runs to you in the middle of the night when the far-off screams scare her awake, yet despite your promises, you are nowhere to be found, and neither is your coat. It's a suspicious absence you explain away with housework and chores. The children jump at the chance to see you, and you greet them much more warmly than the stoic Knave. Everyone tells her you have something the others don't, and she should stay in your good graces for as long as possible. The Knave likes you, and you can get anyone out of anything as a result. It's why she calls you to do everything for her, including taking Arlecchino off her hands and showing her around. You are her best.

It's as if you have a sense for every time she breaks the rules. She stays up late one night and sneaks out of bed to keep playing. She is not tired in the slightest and restless beyond belief; she is a child filled with energy and naive to the consequences of her choices. She is caught, of course, the Knave looming over her to ask what exactly she believes she's doing. She stumbles for an answer. It is just as she thinks the worst has come to pass when you appear in the doorway with a broom in hand. You asked Arlecchino to help you clean up. She's picking up the toys for you to sweep the floor.

The Knave hardly believes it, but what the others say is true—she favours you. She relinquishes Arlecchino to your care, and you walk her back to bed with the tightest grip on her arm she's ever felt. Through gritted teeth, you scold her harshly, "Don't ever do that again!"

She almost fears disappointing you more than the Knave.

You make the House feel safe. With you, it becomes a place where one day she may thrive and return to the world a well-raised woman with much promise. You teach her to play the games the others made for themselves and perfect the chores the Knave demands of her. Arlecchino could wish for no greater sibling than you, and you walk her through it with the patience of a saint as if you have done it a million times before.

She runs to you for everything from hurt knees to finding her lost stuffy, where it has run off to. You respond in kind by cleaning and bandaging the scuffs in her skin. You even show up well into the night past bedtime to return her dearest stuffed toy so she can sleep easily. You were happy to stay when she asked you to sit with her until she could fall asleep and stroke her hair to settle her. It is one of the few tastes of home she savours, even though home did not have you there to take care of her.

You are the closest she will ever have to a parent. You are happy to have her wake you up in the middle of the night when she's scared and needs help, assuming you're there at all. Most nights, you're busy cleaning up the messes other children made that would get them in trouble, and you take her back to bed whenever she finds you.

However, it does not take long for Arlecchino to realise why you warned her against angering the Knave. She decides that Arlecchino, at her tender age, is well and truly ready to complete a mission on her own. A terribly simple one, but it scares her nonetheless.

What scares her more is that you bargain your way into going with her under the guise of showing her the ropes.

You are the best guide she can ask for and nothing less as she comes to understand what that coat is for. You're not just a child of the House; you're a fatuu. You put it on before you leave and lead her off wearing it, making sure she's warm and advising her to wear gloves before the Knave practically tosses the two of you into the harsh winter of Snezhnaya to complete the task thrust upon Arlecchino as her first test.

Before anything else, you make that much abundantly clear to her: what Arlecchino does determines her future within the House, and you don't want to see her fail. You shed your coat to give to her when she gets too cold and hold her hand to force her to continue even when she feels like giving up would be much easier. More than anything, you are loose-lipped and cynical in a way she's never seen before. Over hours, you drill everything into her head that has been kept from her, the source of the screams she's heard that everyone seems to ignore, the reason for the abundance of fear permeating the House.

Every part of the carefully crafted wonderland you had been trying to make her falls to pieces before her very eyes as you walk through the snow with a backpack so heavy she begged you to take it from her shoulders. The Knave is a tyrant reigning over the only thing she can control with an iron fist. Whether she likes it or not, there is no escape, and the Knave will hold anything she can over her head.

You dodge the question when she asks what the Knave uses against you.

Arlecchino quickly realises you have seen many children walk the path she is now on, and she dares not ask how many of those you still waste your breath on. You're sorry. You tried to protect her, but there are some things you can't do.

The journey is bleak, and the trip home is even bleaker as you're late; it's well past bedtime. You enter quietly and run a bath to warm her up, slipping your coat from her shoulders and leaving it by the fireplace. Her only comfort is in you crouching by the edge of the bath with a rag in your hands to scrub her clean with the help of the meagre few inches of water you could afford to spare her.

Your apologies have subsided, as has your tough love attitude, spoiling her with affections and gentle reassurance she didn't expect after seeing how you acted only hours earlier. You pull Arlecchino close and stroke her hair. The wall of the tub becomes little more than a nuisance as it blocks her from fully hiding away in your arms, where she hopes to disappear. She is afraid, but you manage to settle her fears to a nagging whisper tucked away in the deepest corner of her brain.

Apologies give way to promises, grand promises you know you cannot keep, promises of protecting Arlecchino for as long as you can.

You wrap her in a towel, help her dress herself in the night clothes you retrieved from her bed, and send her off to sleep with the reassurance that you'll handle reporting all of what the two of you were doing to the Knave.

Content and soothed by your words and promises, Arlecchino wanders back to bed, where she makes herself comfortable, staring across the room at your empty bed. Perhaps you have said those things to many children before her, but it doesn't occur to her as you quickly fall back into the role of being her only comfort in this house of horrors. You'll protect her from anything in your power, keep her safe, and watch over her.

Sleep coaxes Arlecchino to relax, give in, and rest, and she almost does. She is seconds from being out like a light when she hears those screams again—those that used to send her bolting to look for you in your bed. You were never there when she tried to find you, and now, as she stares across the room at your vacant bed, she suddenly realises why.

The screams that had woken her all those nights had been yours.

Until you could no longer stay by her side, you would protect her from anything.

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

#✦ — headcanons.#✦ — fluff.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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eldritch-nightmare · 8 months

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Had smth in mind based on those Jeff Headcannons you did,,,,,What about The Doll Maker or Bloody Painter(or both idk I’m indecisive) yandere Headcannons but with a willing reader,,,Thought abt that while listening to Ayesha Erotica, idk how

a/n: your wish is my command. going with the bloody painter since i haven't really written much for him here yet. this one got away from me a bit. sorry if it's messy, but i hope you find enjoyment from it nonetheless <3

yandere bloody painter with a willing s/o.

warnings: gn!reader, yandere content, puppeteer cameo bc why not, crush at first... smile?, reader goes to an art school, reader has some questionable morals, stalking, possessive behavior, murder, blood, breaking and entering, the public nor authorities doesn't know that helen is the bloody painter in this btw, morbid painting, a brief description of gore, idk art so sorry if i describe it incorrectly.

Oh, man. I can see him behaving in two different ways. One is the way he'd behave around you if you were there in his childhood and the other is if he met you after everything happened. For this, we'll focus on how he behaves after everything happened.

Helen is very emotionally reserved and pretty apathetic, to be honest with you. It's very difficult to get close to him. I like to think that you two met while he was getting some more art supplies.

He saw you struggling to pick between two paints and, being the artist that he is, he decided to do something a little nice for once and help you out.

And, a little bit to his surprise, that led to a rather lengthy conversation about art as you detailed to him the art project you were working on and how you really weren't sure what direction you wanted to take it because the prompt given to you didn't give you any ideas.

And as we all know, Helen is nothing if not an artist. So, obviously, he listens to every little detail you provide him and offers some advice that may help you out before you two go your separate ways.

And--

Huh. Why'd his chest suddenly feel all warm at the sight of your smile?

He finds himself drawing your smiling face later, thinking that maybe the warm feeling in his chest was just a random burst of inspiration. I mean, he is an artist after all. Inspiration tends to strike at the most random times.

His dear friend seems to think otherwise.

"Aw, does Helen have a little crush?" -> "If you don't have anything of value to say, then please keep your mouth shut."

He doesn't have a crush on you. Not that he knows what it's like to have a crush, I mean he's never been in love before, but he doesn't. No way.

Then he sees you again, and damn. I guess The Puppeteer was right. He does have a crush. Oh well. He accepts this revelation immediately and comes to terms with this newfound feeling rather quickly.

It's just a small crush, one that he's sure will go away soon. But he's never felt this way before, and the feeling leaves him curious, so he finds himself actively seeking you out.

He doesn't consider it to be stalking at first, just... studying. But then he follows you home one day, and he realizes that maybe these feelings of his aren't as small as he thought they were.

Does he feel bad for stalking you? I think, momentarily, he questions why he's doing this but... he's not a great guy in the first place. He does kill people and use their blood as paint, after all.

And you're aware that someone is watching you. You can feel eyes on you most nights. You should be scared, you know that, but... for some reason, you don't. If anything, you start leaving your blinds open more often.

Helen will sometimes even sketch you while he watches you. The way you hold yourself and the way you move around... it just makes him want to capture every moment he can in his sketchbook. He even briefly considers picking up photography as a hobby the longer he watches you, but he decides to just stick with his own form of art.

But he really likes it when he gets to see you make your own art.

And that's when he breaks into your home for the first time. You were out with some friends, and when you came home, you noticed your door was unlocked. At first, you didn't really think much of it, but when you went to your room, you couldn't help but feel as if something were off.

It took you a while, but you soon discovered that some of your drawings were missing. Thankfully, none of the ones you drew for class were missing.

You had no means of contacting your stalker, which you suppose is a good thing, so instead you just wrote on a piece of paper and taped it to your window.

'Glad you like my drawings.'

And the next day, taped on the outside of your window was a little doodle of a smiley face.

You didn't give this odd relationship much thought, to be honest. You thought it was kinda cute that this random stranger seemed to derive some type of joy from watching you. He hasn't done anything to hurt you, and his intentions don't seem malicious, so you honestly had no problem with it.

Of course, your friends definitely thought it was weird. They think that you need to report your stalker to the police, but you choose to ignore their concerns. You reassure them that if you ever feel as if you're life is in any danger, you'll inform the authorities about what's happening.

So, it goes on like this for a while. Helen would mostly stick to watching you from afar, but sometimes he'd break into your place while you're sleeping just to get a closer look at you. Sometimes, you'll wake up and there will be a drawing of you on your nightstand. You keep those drawings tucked away safely in one of the many empty sketchbooks you own.

Then a... domino effect of sorts took place.

You started going to a new café since it was closer to where you lived and closer to the school you attended. -> There's a cute barista there who always flirts with you whenever you buy a coffee or get yourself a treat. -> You humored their behavior because you thought it was cute, so you would flirt back sometimes. -> It became routine, and a couple weeks into the routine, the barista just up and vanished.

You thought they had quit, but you overheard some of the other employees at the café whispering about how they hadn't heard anything from them.

Something that should have been completely unrelated, you lose your red paint. You can't find it anywhere.

Continuing on with the domino effect, a day or two goes by and you hear on the news that the barista you had been flirting with was found dead in their home, drained dry of their blood. The police believe this to be another victim of The Bloody Painter.

You wouldn't have thought much of it, but then you notice a note taped to your window.

'There's a gift for you in your kitchen.'

And when you went to your kitchen, you saw a container resting on the counter. It wasn't translucent or see-through, so you couldn't see inside of it, but there was another note resting on top of it.

'I saw you were out of red paint, so I got you some more. We should meet up this week and paint together, don't you think? I'd love to see what you can create with this.'

And the note wasn't signed with a smiley face this time. It was signed with a name.

Helen Otis.

You set the note to the side and one quick look inside the container told you that he had given you blood to use as paint.

It didn't take you long to piece together what was going on here. The blood he had given you was no doubt the blood of the barista who had been murdered, which means... your stalker was that serial killer that's been all over the news these past few months.

The person who has been breaking into your home and leaving you those drawings was a serial killer. And he... he trusted you enough to tell you his name?

Holy shit, that's a lot to take in.

You should be panicking. Hell, you should be calling the police to let them know about all of this. You'd be doing the world some good if you did that, and it would save a lot of lives.

But your gaze drifts back to the note, and your mind wanders to all the drawings he's made of you, and... this was just so...

Cute. It felt romantic, even.

He killed a person you had been flirting with and gave you their blood as a gift. That has to be his way of letting you know that you were his.

You didn't even think about what you were going to do. You took the container of blood and you took it to your room. It didn't take you long to set up a tarp on the ground since it was no doubt going to drip onto your floor and you really didn't need blood stains in your carpet.

And you searched up a reference of what you wanted to paint, and you immediately got to work.

Later that night, while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, Helen was breaking into your home for the nth time.

The reason why is because you had left a note for him to see on your window, one that had certainly caught his attention.

There's a gift for you in the kitchen.

You've never left him a gift before, so his curiosity was certainly piqued.

He made sure to be quiet as he made his way to your kitchen, not wanting to wake you up. He wasn't ready to meet you. Not yet.

When he gets to your kitchen, he certainly wasn't really expecting to see a canvas resting on the counter, a white sheet covering whatever was painted on it. A sticky note was placed on the sheet as well, and Helen stepped closer to it to read it.

This is what it looked like, right?

p.s. I'm willing to take you up on that offer.

And on the corner of the sticky note, there was a small smiley face doodle. How cute.

With the note read, Helen wasted no time carefully removing the sheet from the canvas, a subtle excitement coursing through his veins.

And... oh. Oh, you're as fucked up as him, aren't you?

What he sees is a downright devastatingly beautiful piece of work.

The painting was completely done with just the blood he had given you, with a few pencil marks for shading, and it depicted the murder he had committed just a few days prior.

He imagines that it was rather easy to find a photo of the crime scene online, but you were somehow able to capture the scene perfectly and you weren't ever there.

From the way the body was hanging upside down from the ceiling, a few buckets underneath it to collect the blood dripping from it. The way lifeless look in their eyes that you had done with a pencil... the gashes all over their body...

You had passed the test he had set up for you.

He took this as a sign of acceptance. A sign that you wanted to be his. You wouldn't keep the blood and make such a masterpiece with it if you didn't, right?

A slight smile formed on his face at the thought, and he stood there and admired the art you had made for him.

Hmm... maybe he'll stick around until you wake up...

#tanuukiiii #the bloody painter x reader #the bloody painter x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #yandere x reader #yandere bloody painter #yandere bloody painter x reader #yandere creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 10 months

Note

Would you write a smut fic with ghost x dom reader x soap??(reader can be fem or gn and make both boys submissive maybe a moment where they fuck each other and the reader watches them and controls them).IDK WRITE IT HOWEVER YOU IMAGINE IT. I just dont have the skill to write so i am requesting it here.I hope its not weird.

I got you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

NSFW 18+, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, very little plot, MMF, P in V sex, Tons of Teasing, Steamy Makeouts, Groping, Grinding, Double-Penetration, Anal, Ceampie, Explicit Description, Graphic Language, Dom!Reader, Sub!Soap, Sub!Ghost, Sexual Tension, Some Ghostsoap moments as well, Playful Banter, Bickering, Flirting, Build-Up, Jealousy, Soap and Ghost are fighting over the same girl, but it's friendly competition, ends in a three way too so, will do more proofreading I promise!

WC: 7k ~

Author's Note: This took me way longer to type than it probably should have. I hope it makes for a good read. It's total nonsense, and probably not very realistic (though I do try). It's not exactly like the anon, I'm sorry! But hopefully, it's still good. Please, please, please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading my things!

Masterlist

The front door shut close, leaving the living room just a bit more silent now that its previous company had just departed. You look back towards your remaining two house guests, the smile already unable to stop from forming on your face. You'd been hoping for some alone time with both Ghost and Soap, and it seems fate would smile on you tonight, for now, you had both of them here.

You invited the whole team back over to your place for the weekend, after having just come back from an op with both Price and Gaz, which lasted damn near over a month. The whole thing had been rather uneventful, to say the least; some reconnaissance and leads which went mostly nowhere (well, nowhere for your team; Laswell definitely had a heyday from the sound of things).

With how mind-numbingly dull the whole assignment turned out to be, everyone couldn't be happier to finally sit back and relax with some drinks and good company once back home. All night you spent recapping the events of the mission, including all the monotony which had conspired.

At one point, the most entertainment you could find out there had been both you and Gaz slowly "misplacing" Price's things -- unimportant items that wouldn't do any harm if left unnoticed. You had bets on how long it'd take for him to notice things slowly going missing everyday.

Surprisingly, you nearly got away with it for a whole week, until one morning when he finally questioned the funny look you two had on your faces when he'd been scratching his head, completely perplexed by the absence of his things. Price was in a better mood retelling the story than he had been in the moment.

Eventually, everyone started to disperse as the night went on -- Price got tired and left first, maybe an hour after that Gaz called it a night as well. Once they'd left, you found yourself in your living room with the only two mates you'd been thinking about all day, Ghost and Soap.

Only unbeknownst to both you and each other, both men had deliberately been trying to stick around, having shared the sentiment in wanting some long-awaited alone time with you... except the night keeps getting later, and they both keep giving each other increasingly odd looks, impatiently waiting for the other to leave so they could finally make a move on you.

Both Ghost and Soap have wanted you for a long time now, longer than either men cared to admit. Funnily enough, it was Ghost who'd caught feelings first.

It came to him as randomly as a Tuesday morning. You were just doing what you normally do. However, it had been your mundane actions that somehow drew him in initially. How you go about life with a smile and good attitude, the way you look at him when you found something funny, and the slight lilt to your voice when you talk and get excited. He would feel a lucky man indeed to be yours.

However, Soap had been the one to be more upfront about his interest in you, after developing feelings of his own. The Sergeant's likings to you came suddenly and without warning, but once they'd developed, it couldn't be more obvious that he was down BAD.

More often than not was he finding little excuses to touch you, whether it be a passing hand on the small of your back when squeezing by, or a congratulatory hug after a successful mission. Soap's suave charisma made it easy to do. And with the touching, it was always followed by some sly little line that would have you blushing and pulling at the fabric of your sleeve all shy-like.

He's slowly ramped the flirting up the more time passes, and Ghost knows if he doesn't at least say something now, then it won't be long before Soap takes the chance himself. Tonight had felt a perfect enough opportunity to finally make some waves, though, Soap was fast proving to be a formidable opponent.

"Jeez!" You stretch your hands over your head and yawn dramatically, both men's eyes luring a bit longer than they should have on you as you did so. "I didn't realize how late it was getting."

"Aye, same," Soap lets out a little yawn as well, making himself more comfy on your couch. "You don't mind though, no?"

"Not at all," you say. If only they knew how many nights you've spent letting one of the two men be your idle bedtime fancies into slumber. Wondering what it was they could be doing at that moment in time, and if they'd been thinking of you too. "I missed you guys."

"Aw, we missed you too, lass," Soap smiles at you, before his gaze drops over to Ghost's, who'd begun to glare.

He often forgoes the mask in more domestic environments like this with the team, the others having already seen him before. Though it didn't stop the man from forgetting not to wear his emotions on his face like he still had one on. You thought his eyes were expressive, but little had you all known it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Keeping calm and remaining stoic in combat is one thing, however, anger and disapproval came easy to him, in which case he rivaled for having the worst poker face you'd ever seen.

The Sergeant had taken this fouled expression for disagreement in his statement, even as the look had been for an entirely different reason altogether. Soap merely goes on, "Or, I missed you at least. Ghost might feel differently."

Bastard. Putting him on the spot like this; Ghost almost chuckles, the cheeky fuck. He knew what Soap was trying to do: subtly make himself look better in your eyes so that you choose him over the other.

Had he known better, Ghost would think Soap might actually be aware of the lieutenant's crush on you, by the way he smirked in his direction after saying it. He admits he hadn't expected Soap to partake in such petty games either; then again, this was a first, the two of them liking the same woman like this.

If this is how he plays, then Ghost thought only one thing -- Game on.

"Oh I'm sure you missed me too," you stand up from the couch now, twirling over to face him. "Right, Si'?"

"And then some, love," Ghost says.

Your smile brightens, and the man is ashamed to say that it gives him the warm fuzzies in these late hours. The way the living room lighting curved over your neck had also been a sight worth eliciting something deep within him.

Ghost takes a quick glance over at Soap, catching his less-than-excited reaction to the lieutenant's successful line. He has to remember not to grow too expressive at that moment. Not with you here at least.

You excuse yourself to the restroom shortly after, having paid no mind to the growing tension between your comrades. You'd all but taken the soothing atmosphere with you, leaving instead an awkward aura Ghost and Soap willfully drowned themselves in.

It's Ghost who speaks first, his dark eyes having watched your backside make its way down the hall and round the corner. The more drink he had in him, the less subtle his staring grew. Soap has noticed as much tonight especially.

"It's gettin' rather late." Ghost straightens up in his seat before finishing off his Bourbon and placing it back down on the coffee table. "Damn near one in the a.m. Yet you look proper cozy, mate."

"Aye, I am," Soap says rather proudly, further making his point by getting comfortable on the couch and taking another swig of his tequila. "Been too long since I been 'ere. Was startin' to miss layin' on the ol' thing," he rubs the cushion as though he were petting an old dog.

Ghost leans back in his seat now. "You stay over this late often, then?"

Soap pauses, having to double take that question, until his blue eyes fell on Ghost's brown ones, and he saw clearly what he was asking him.

He asks the man right back, "Do you, mate?"

A cocky little grin forms on the Scotsman's face. Had Ghost not been so wrapped up in you, it might have brought him to a pause there. Soap always did have a nice smile.

Soap didn't have to be a genius to know Ghost liked you though; he goes all but slack-jaw anytime you walk by him. Not to mention it wasn't a common thing for Ghost to be the one sticking around late during a get-together. He's normally the first to call it a night, in fact.

Only tonight, that hadn't been the case for him at all. No, Ghost was as planted in his chair as Soap was; they both might as well have sprouted roots. And they both had enough drink to muster up the right amount of bravado needed to keep this sudden, little interrogation going.

"I asked you first, Johnny," Ghost says, his deep voice laced with something more playfully cunning.

"And I answered you," Soap teases back.

"With a question."

"It's still an answer, no?"

Now Soap was just being deliberately obtuse. Ever since he knew he could do it, Soap's enjoyed pushing the lieutenant's buttons and getting a rile out of him. It's only increased tenfold over the last year, not that Ghost has tried to stop him.

Ghost leans forward now, resting his arms on his knees and furrowing his brow. "A'right, out with it, then," he says. "What's your game 'ere?"

Soap's brow furrows rather facetiously. '"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Don’t play dumb Johnny." The playful tone Ghost once used before has now since cooled, growing darker. "You know wha' I'm askin'."

Soap merely smirks, resting his arm back against the couch. "The same game you're playing, yeah?"

"And what game is that, Johnny?"

Soap can't help but laugh now, growing more and more cocky with each loaded exchange. On a normal day, Ghost might manage to intimidate the Sergeant every so often with his sheer presence, let alone his words. However, when it comes to women, Soap couldn't feel more in his element, especially up against his superior.

"One I'll beat you in."

Now it's Ghost's turn to have a laugh. A subtle thing, trapped beneath the burliness of his chest, though its deep rumble is audible enough, having warmed the Scotsman's cheeks at the sound.

"I doubt that," Ghost says.

"You underestimate my charm L.T."

Soap puckers his lips and kisses the air between the two men mockingly. As much as Ghost tried to hide it, the sight had made the air catch in his throat for a second. It's that usual, competitive nature about the Sergeant that really gets Ghost's blood pumping during these mutual bouts of bickering.

"My last statement still stands," Ghost chuckles. "So what? You thought I'd leave and you two would just go at it then?"

"I wouldn't say it like that," Soap says. "...But I was hoping to have some alone time with her, yes."

"And you figured on waitin' for the rest of us to vacate before making a move..." Ghost shrugs with affirmation. "...Clever man."

"Yeah, well, what about you?" Soap asks. "Clearly we're both still here for the same reason. What's your "game", L.T.?"

"It's not your concern."

Soap groans, sinking back in his seat, though he hadn't been surprised by his response. "Suppose it isn't, then," he says. "It's hers."

"That's right," Ghost agrees. "We can't both have her."

"Can't we?"

Ghost brings his eyes forward to Soap's, having thought his comment been a mere joke. However, once their gazes matched, Ghost could see that his Sergeant was dead serious.

Personally, Soap's never been opposed to the idea of a threesome. He'd even be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about it from time to time, as boyish as it sounds. Adding Ghost into that equation hadn't tripped him up much in the slightest either; Lord knows the lieutenant would be next on Soap's list if you weren't at the top of it already.

Still, Ghost had a hard time even picturing a scenario where something like that could happen, let alone with all three of you. No doubt the man had been interested in you, and for a while, he'd even felt something for Soap as well, feelings that haven't necessarily gone away.

Something with all three of you would no doubt be perfect, however, it just seemed...

"Let's be real here, Johnny." Ghost leaves it at that.

"Suit yourself," Soap merely shrugs, before a light bulb moment suddenly lets off in his eyes. "How about we bring this to the source then? Hey Y/N!"

"Soap-"

"Oi, calm down, mate," he smiles at him. "No point in beatin' 'round the bush, aye?"

You reemerge from around the corner, having heard their voices vaguely through your door this entire time, but not being able to put full words together. Not without having your ear pressed to the wall. From the "uh-oh" look you had on your face, though, something told the two men you were already preparing for them to say something crazy.

"What's up?"

Soap gives Ghost a final look, waiting to see if the man will protest. However, when he sees that he doesn't speak, Soap grins, turning back to you.

"If you had to pick between Ghost and I, who're you choosin'?"

"Pick for what?" you ask, certainly needing clarification. "For battle?"

Soap bursts out laughing, just now feeling how awkward it was going to be explaining this to you. "No," he says. "Like if you had to pick one of us to... I don't know, go out on a date with, who would you pick?"

You keep smiling at Soap like he's joking, waiting to hear him laugh, but once you see he hasn't budged, you feel your heart begin to race.

Your eyes grow wide, now suddenly embarrassed to have the spotlight on you. "You're seriously asking?"

Soap nods. "I am."

You look over at Ghost now. Surely this was just another one of Soap's antics. "You too?"

Ghost shrugs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

You were hoping he wouldn't say that. But, if they were asking, then may God be your witness as you answer them.

Placing a hand to your chin, you pout to yourself and look back and forth between your teammates, sizing both men up for every physical feature they had to offer.

Your mind immediately goes to the gutter, not being able to help it. You've found them both distractingly good-looking ever since you joined the team, and you've more than thought about this before. Just never in comparison. Or out loud.

Soap looks like he'd be fun to play with -- he's eager, energetic, and even better, open-minded. Not to mention he was cocky too; you always liked a man who could talk his shit and back it up. With those big arms of his, he could just box you in against the bed and pin you down good and firm, as he drills into you, cooing that sweet little accent of his in your ear like he would. It made your body tingle just thinking about it.

And then there was Ghost; if there was any voice you wouldn't mind having growled in your ear while being fucked senseless, it was his. Unlike Soap, you just knew you wouldn't get it rough like you would from Ghost. You've lost count of how many times you've caught yourself gawking at him during sparring sessions or while out in the field, watching that bulking mass of muscle of his he called a body, manhandle any and everything in his way. Having him do the same to you in a more intimate sense never failed to make the lower parts of yourself start to throb at the thought.

After giving both men a good, long look, you sigh, letting your arms fall back to your sides.

"I can't choose."

"Ah, don't be shy now, lass," Soap says. "If you're worried about hurtin' our feelings-"

"No it's not that," you cut in. "It's just not an easy choice, you know?"

Ghost raises an eyebrow now. "Oh?"

"Oh, don't act all surprised, Simon."

"You like us both then?" Soap asks cautiously.

"I'd say so." You begin to smirk. "Why? What's going on here?"

The two give each other a look, before Ghost goes to explain things to you.

"We're just trying to figure out which one of us has a shot."

"Figures you should be the deciding vote, seeing as you're the subject of interest, lass."

You imagine you look pretty stupid standing at the center of your living room all wide-eyed like you do, but frankly, this just feels too good to be true. It hadn't been one of them that was supposedly into you, but both of them. If you could do a backflip, you'd do twelve right now, no questions asked.

But before you get head over heels about this, "So you're saying you both want me then?"

"In more ways than one, darlin'," Soap teases.

You glance over at Ghost this time, having taken note of his sudden silence. "You too, Simon?"

He hadn't necessarily been prepared to confess his feelings to you, not like this, and much less in front of an opposing audience. Still, Ghost wouldn't have his own Sergeant show him up so easily. Plus, the way your eyes lured at him this whole time had a chill running down his spine, making it hard to concentrate. So he nods, "That's right."

A devilish smile slowly creeps over your lips.

"Well, can't I just have you both?"

"Aye, that's what I'm sayin'!"

"Problem solved then, right?" You laugh.

"If only," Soap says. "Ghost didn't seem up for it when I brought it up earlier-"

"You puttin' words in my mouth now, Johnny." Ghost cuts in.

"Oh, don't switch up now L.T.-"

"Boys," you cut in before they've started going back in forth again, a playful smile still painting your lips. You were eating this up, if you were being honest. "Relax," you say. "We can... get to the bottom of this, yeah?"

Both your eyes shift over to Ghost, who now sits awkwardly to himself on the couch, hands resting motionless on his large lap.

"Well Simon?" You ask him. "Are you down?"

"I'm not one for sharing, love," Ghost coos at you.

You slowly make your way over to the lieutenant, your eyes looming over him like a panther that's just found its next meal. Ghost feels himself hold his breath, watching as you've paused just in front of him, your back now facing Soap, though you can feel his eyes on your backside, taking in the nice view of you, and feeling himself grow harder in his pants.

This close, having smelt your scent on the way over, and felt the remnants of your breath in the air between you two, Ghost could feel his mind beginning to slip out from itself, heading into dangerous territories.

He could see in your eyes you knew exactly what you were doing too. Exactly what you wanted to do. The ball was in your park, and that made you in charge from this point on. The only thing they needed to do now was listen. And Ghost was sitting at the edge of his seat, waiting to hear you.

"Come on, Si'," you say so playfully. "Don't be greedy."

Ghost merely scoffs, an awkward smile forming. "How can I not?"

As though to then challenge the man, you step even closer, placing yourself right at the brink between his legs, having now rested your dainty hands over his muscular thighs like a ledge to lean on. The man can't even stop himself from letting his hands rest on your hips, your body naturally shifting just a little closer as he's done it. Every little thing you did had him ready to tear you out of your clothes and devour you whole.

No, the man knows he's too greedy for his own good. If he had even the smallest taste of you, he wouldn't want your attention on no one other than him. Howbeit, looking back over towards the Sergeant only made him want to throw that caution out the window.

Soap doesn't see the man staring daggers into him at first; his blue eyes have been glued to your ass since you turned your back to him. For the short second he does glance up at the lieutenant, he grins daringly. Taunting him to go home and tuck tail so he could have you all to himself instead. Make this easier for him tonight.

That's just what Soap wants, Ghost thought. Here the opportunity was now to have you, and he's fumbling it away all because he feels he can't share with Soap. Saying it again in his head like that gets him thinking though. If that's the only hurdle between him and you fucking, then it seemed easy enough to step over.

He won't back down that easily, even if he has to "share" you. If you want him like he wants you, then you'll have him, however way you like, just as he'll have you.

Ghost brings his hands down and lets his fingers graze your ass just enough for the Sergeant to see since he couldn't keep his eyes off you. Sickly enough, he hopes the sight is driving the Scot mad. God knows Ghost feels mad enough himself.

The minute you've felt his touch on you, you hum pleasantly, stepping even closer, so that he could take better hold of your bottom and have your small body caged between his large arms and legs like walls, his face only inches or so from yours.

Ghost could feel himself getting more comfortable with the idea of sharing. At least when he had you to himself like this. Especially with how your hands have begun to leisurely rest over his shoulders now, keeping the man just as close.

"I knew you'd come around," you praise, your words now having the man feeling giddy, ready to take them to further levels.

"Just takes the right convincing," he hums.

"I'm feelin' awfully lonely back 'ere," Soap chimes in, doing the best he could not to sink so low as to start touching himself before being given the OK by you first, wanting to hear the words leave your pretty, little mouth. Even as his cock was already throbbing in his pants for some relief.

You merely chuckle, cocking your head back to look at the Sergeant. "I haven't forgotten about you, don't worry," you coo. "You just be a good little lad and wait a moment, yeah?"

Though he wanted to protest, step over, and take you all for himself, Soap did as you told him to and stayed put, continuing to let his eyes have their way with the parts of your body he's all but only been able to steal quick glances at before. He could only hope his patience would be rewarded; and so long as you keep talking to him like you are now, he'll wait until the sun rises if he has to.

You turn your attention back to Ghost, not having forgotten about his hands which oh so nonchalantly groped the cheeks of your ass, kneading and massaging his fingers into the backs of your thighs. He wanted nothing more than to keep letting his hands roam until they've found the center of you, his mind already playing the short gasps and moans you'd make with his fingers knuckle deep in you.

He knew you'd only make him regret it if he so much as did anything without your say-so first.

You reveled at seeing both men so eager and receptive to listen, given how fast this all went down. Frankly, it's got your head spinning so fast that you feel like you've just been drugged. However, rather than let that adrenaline crumble you down, you instead use it as chaotic fuel to your lustful actions.

You climb onto Ghost's lap like a backward chair, straddling him down with your thighs and rocking yourself against him. As he's felt you grind generously so, a tattered breath escapes his lips. Broken and faint. His expression does all it can do to remain as still as possible, only to fail, as his gaze lowers, bouncing between your eyes and lips.

Having his hands grow a mind of their own, Ghost lets them slide to your back, encouraging you to keep moving against him, which you do gladly, the lust bubbling down your lower half like a chemical reaction.

"Fuck, love," Ghost huffs out. "You're really takin' me for a ride right now, aren't you?"

"Hope you're buckled in," you tease, following it with another smooth sway of your hips, giving the man a deep grind hard enough to leave him breathing heavy.

Just when he's about ready to kiss you, you look back over at Soap, smiling. Your index finger lifts innocently, beckoning the man. "Come along now, big boy," you say.

You don't have to tell him twice.

In a matter of seconds, the man is behind you, towering over you and keeping you now sandwiched between both him and Ghost.

When you see they're both waiting on your next word, you chuckle to yourself, the power now starting to go to your head. To think, you had two of the deadliest men on your team damn near drooling, ready to fuck you. How could you not let it get to your head?

"Well," you give both men a final lurid, look, and say, "I'm waiting."

Soap and Ghost exchange wary looks, suddenly unsure of what to do with themselves now that they had you like this. Evidently, despite you already sitting on the lieutenant's lap, it's Soap who swoops in for the kiss first.

You feel his large hand push past your hair and curve around your jaw, his fingers grazing your neck before he's cocked your head back to give you a proper eye-fucking, before he's leaned down and smacked his mouth against yours, Ghost be damned.

You wiggle on Ghost's lap, your legs tightening over his thighs in an attempt to keep balance as the Sergeant all but swallowed you whole, his hands cupping around your face, keeping you from escaping.

Using the Sergeant as further support, you stretch your arms over your head and let them rest against Soap's shoulders like a warm wall, your hands cupping his face and keeping him just as pulled in, your tongues trading the taste of each other and your body unconsciously rocking over Ghost's crotch, feeling two sets of arousal brim in you from top to bottom.

Having you bouncing over his cock like this was driving Ghost feral, getting off on just the sight of you. Of course, watching you make precise work with Soap's mouth soon had the lieutenant wanting more, growing impatient waiting for the Sergeant to let up.

Ghost instead lets his hands cup over your breast, groping and massaging them generously through your shirt. His mouth finds your neck bare for his teeth, sinking them in lightly each time before he's left a heated kiss in its place, letting his lips travel down your neck until he's felt his tongue graze your collarbone, complimenting the kissing Soap gave you above.

Your mouth may be occupied by the Sergeant's, but your body belonged to the lieutenant, so long as you continued to bounce on top of him like you were.

He lets one hand leave your breast, sliding his fingers and letting them dig against your clothed skin, until it's ducked between your legs, beginning to fumble with the buttons of your pants.

It's here you've parted your mouth from Soap's, the man looking down at your doe-eyed expression, hungering for more. You see the tinge of excitement that lights up in the sky-blue of his eyes as he watches your hands make their way toward his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it from his waist. If Ghost would have his way with you, then you would have yours with Soap.

Ghost has slipped his hand into your pants just as you've sprung Soap's cock free of its trouser, his large member sitting in your palm like a heavy, third limb. Soap can barely enjoy the sight of you holding him so close before you've let your tongue tease over the head of him, sucking lightly at the tip and tasting the remnants of his precum on your tongue.

Soap lets his head cock back pleasurably, groaning out to himself with a smile. "Ah," he groans, "You're too good to me, Bonnie."

Soap lets his hands rest at the side of your head rather brutishly, lightly nudging your mouth further down onto his cock, his abs tensing as he listened to the light gags you let out. Despite his persistence, you kept control of yourself, making sure that your movements had the man locked into your touch. It hadn't helped that your mind was caught in two places right now.

Ghost let his two fingers massage against your clit as though he were tasked with his life to see the job done properly. The tips of his fingers dip between your folds and tease your hole, before letting your slick lubricate him, soon to return rubbing against your bud in ways that made the entire lower half of your body feel sore with lust.

And it hadn't been enough to have his hand down your pants making a ruined mess of you. Ghost's other hand very much continued to pluck and roll at your nipple, having slipped beneath your shirt at some point during the interaction, holding against you as you rocked yourself against his hand, your moans humming over the Sergeant's cock and sending a wave of euphoria down him as well.

With one hand still free, you decide it's time that Ghost enjoys himself as well. He watches your single hand with hungry eyes, slightly shaken and erratic from both his fingering and Soap's cock a mere inch away from hitting the back of your throat, the man's groans of approval like music to your ears. Your hand travels down to his belt and undoes it with ease before you've slipped him free of his jeans as well, your fingers taking in the very shape of him.

Your thumb grazes his dripping tip, letting it slick down his shaft before you've begun to pump at him, feeling the man's body tense at your touch. It makes his fingers against your clit lose their rhythm, but only momentarily.

"Fuckin' hell," he breathes out. "Just like tha', love."

The Sergeant glances down at the lieutenant, catching his dazed eyes locked on your bobbing mouth, taking in a full review of your work on the Sergeant's cock.

He could see it in the man's eyes, he was jealous, envious that he had your mouth all to himself while he had to settle for your hand. Granted your fingers danced about his shaft like an angel in her craft, though even he couldn't resist the allure that was watching your saliva dribble down his subordinate's cock, imagining the warmth of your throat struggling to take his entire length. You've felt his cock throb in your hands just at the thought, his hips faintly chasing your purposefully coy grip on him.

Soap chuckles, not being used to seeing his superior so awestruck and drunk with lust, hearing all sorts of noises and groans from the man he could never have imagined.

"Enjoyin' the show there, L.T.?" Soap teases, quickly following it by readjusting his hand on the side of your face, taking light hold of you to help further steady your already perfect rhythm.

In response, Ghost slips a third finger in you, listening to the carnal noises your cunt made at each thrust of his fingers, watching your mouth twitch over the Sergeant, momentarily struggling to suck him off through the moans that clawed out of you. That gets you to put more attention back on Ghost, your hand taking better hold of his cock and dancing over the large girth of him, keeping a steady motion until you've seen the wave-like rising and falling of his chest.

Through his light panting, Ghost taunts, "Got the best seat in the house, Johnny."

"Oh, is tha' righ', mate?" Soap licks his lips, and lets his eyes drop noticeably down to the lieutenant's cock, watching your single hand continue to pump at him, barely able to hold it all in one hand. It makes the Sergeant let out a teasing groan. "Shall we put it to the test then, L.T.?"

Ghost stares at the Sergeant, hungry for the man just as much as he starved for you.

"Be my guest, Johnny."

Hearing the two go back and forth had you giddy to see what both men had in store for each other. However, it had you just as eager to join in on the fray yourself.

After what felt like an eternity of having your drool dribble itself over the Sergeant's cock, you let your lips part from him, and with your other hand, remove yourself from Ghost as well, giggling at their kicked-puppy-dog expressions.

"I have a better idea," you say. You reach for the bottom of your shirt before pulling it over your head and discarding it at the edge of the couch. Once removed, both men fell on the same page rather quickly.

Soap's hands hastily fumbled at the clasp of your bra, before the fabric has fallen loose and your chest now lay bare for Ghost's full perusal. He hardly any time to truly enjoy it before you've momentarily climbed from him to rid yourself of the rest of your clothing, now standing a dripping, naked beauty of a woman.

Both men could do nothing more but stare, hands subconsciously stroking oneselves at the sight of you.

"Now," you say. "I can't have you both feeling so left out while the other fucks me."

"It would be cruel," Ghost quips gruffly, his eyes having been glued to your chest since he's seen your breast bounce so freely before him.

You step back over to Ghost, retaking your place over his lap and letting his cock rest thick beneath you, your sopping folds hugging warmly over him, sending a shiver down his entire body. You grind slowly, letting your fluids paint him, and wetting yourself good for what you were dying to have.

Ghost leans in, letting his hand rest on the small of your back and his lips caress the shell of your ear. "This is much crueler," he whispers. His hands immediately cupped over your breast again, recapturing the feeling of you and letting his hips lightly rock, chasing every part of you he could.

You lean forward until you've felt his nose brush the tip of yours and his breath tickle your lips.

"Don't get pouty now, Si'," you coo.

"Aye," Soap chimes in. "You're the one goin' first."

You look over at Soap playfully, leaning forward to pull him back in close by the hem of his shirt.

"I already told you two not to be greedy," you let your hand retake hold of him, your fingers curving over his girthy length gently. It shuts him up quickly, coming back in so closely to you both. "You two can share."

"What's your plan then, love?" Ghost asks, already having let his hand dive back down between your legs, gripping over his cock so the tip of his head could tease at your hole, wetness and slick coating you both.

You take your hand and you rub it against yourself, making sure every bit of your parts below had been lubed. You bring that same, dripping hand back up to Soap, before dressing his cock with your warm fluids, massaging the man, and feeling the grooves of his veins against your fingers throb.

"Now be a good little spotter and watch my back," you say playfully, before letting your eyes dip back down to Ghost. "I think the lieutenant's got the front covered."

Soap chuckles to himself, before you've felt his large hands rest gently against your bare shoulders, his callous fingers running down slowly to take a hefty handful of your ass, gripping the cheek tightly. He spreads you roughly, his eyes growing large at the sight of you, already knowing his cock would be more than a tight fit for you and devilishly longing for it.

As you've felt Soap rub his cock between your ass, letting your cheeks hug him, his hand digging possessively into your skin, you feel Ghost's hand lock over your neck, holding you there gently in front of him. That way your eyes could stay on him as his cock continued to gently nudge at your hole, only a single thrust away from finally entering you.

"You sure you can take us both?" Ghost asks.

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, lass," Soap adds in.

You position yourself better over Ghost, ready to retake your seat.

"I can handle myself, boys," you say. "Now, show me who wants it more."

You lower yourself on Ghost's cocks, feeling your folds begin to stretch and the grooves of your walls run by every vein and shape of him. It's too much at first, and he can see it in your wincing face, however, you keep lowering yourself, powering through that initial pain and instead letting that pressure boil in you like nothing you've ever felt before. It was overwhelming, and it had your lips quivering with silent moans already.

Just as you've felt your pussy start to take the full length of him, you've felt Soap tease at your second hole, his cock rubbing playfully at you, the tip dipping in ever so slightly, giving you a completely new feeling altogether. His cock stretches you just as much as Ghost's, both men easing your body to the shape of them all at once, and both waves of pleasure complimenting each other in ways that had your body shaking over them, unable to string words together.

"Fuckin' Christ, you're tight, Bonnie," Soap groans.

"Don't... stop...," you say desperately, wanting to squash any reluctance they may feel. The pleasure your body ached for was just now beginning to reach its peak. "...I can take it."

Once your body adjusted, it hadn't grown long before this slow easing had turned into an organized attack, both men pounding savagely into you.

You sat, nearly sandwiched between two men, your chest pressed against Ghost's as he hugged you to him, his cock bullying into you powerfully, the base of himself smacking against your pussy at each thrust.

In rhythm, Soap rests his chest against your back, planting kisses at your spine each time he's let himself thrust just a bit deeper inside your ass. Your hole gripped his cock so tightly it nearly pulled at him each time he came out, only to crash another orgasm-inducing thrust into you, both him and Ghost going back in forth like well-trained machines.

"That's right lovey, there you go," Ghost praises you, his breath fanning your ear. "You're takin' us so well."

In the midst of both men's vicious pounding, it felt as though every bit of you all had been entangled in some way. Hands clumsily felt, hugged, and tugged at one another, chests heaving and moans forming an opera within your living room.

When your tongue wasn't dipping itself into Ghost's mouth, then you're head was cocked back, having a few more kisses be stolen from you by Soap. At some points even, when you're face was buried in Ghost's chest attempting to muffle your moans, you've felt both men lean in to keep each other company in the meantime, rough lips pressed harshly to one another in a passionate kiss you only wished to mirror once they've parted.

Mouths part just enough to concentrate on breathing, each gasp of air being halted by yet another thrust from both ends of you.

Both men have felt an animal-like fury come out of them at each orgasm they've pulled, feeling your body tighten over their cocks and your limbs shake with pleasure, drool, and tears leaking from you, your mind completely scrambled after eleven straight minutes of this.

It isn't until Ghost has opened his eyes again, finding your face twisted with pleasure, and seeing the Sergeant's love-drunk expression -- eyes half-lidded with lust, biting his lip -- that Ghost feels himself finally at his end.

His fingers claw harshly into your skin, his pace growing punishable. Seeing the lieutenant move so carnally clicked in the sergeant's mind quickly what that had meant, already being at the brink of a climax himself.

You hug yourself over Ghost's shoulders, your body so exhausted you could pass out right now before they've even finished. Even so, you couldn't get enough of this sensation; this could go on for another hour if they wanted it to.

"...I'm ready for it," you moan. "Give it to me..."

Both men's cocks pulsate in you, your holes being filled to the brim with their cum, as it drips from you sloppily once they've pulled themselves out.

With heavy huffs, everyone in the room falls back onto the couch, taking a moment to themselves to regain their air. You still couldn't believe that just happened... that any of this had happened.

"So," Soap pants out, about ready to crash on your couch again. "Which one of us did'ye think wanted you more?"

You give Soap a sly look, baffled he would even ask you that right now. "I don't know."

Author's Note: The behemoth has been slain! I'm NEVER typing a request that is longer than 3k words ever again (this took me almost a month and a half to type due to my schedule). However, I am open to any requests for prompts with the CoD boys, though preferably none that are straight smut (I'm kind of burnt out on it atm :/).

I do hope you enjoyed this, however, and please feel free to leave a comment or any feedback! Thank you again!

꒰ · ◡ · ꒱

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bunniesghost · 1 year

Text

.·:*¨¨* Took your sweet time*¨¨*:·.

Pt.5

Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

CW: Kid!Fic, Pregnancy, Huge timeskips, Fluffy moments, A bit of Angst, mentions of death.

Summary: Finding out you were pregnant with Simon’s baby was a bit Overwhelming. But his presence made you feel secure. Would you two ever end up together?

A/N: I honestly was scared to write this because idk if y’all will like it </3. Hope y’all like this chapter and thank you for reading the series! <3<3<3

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8 Weeks later

~~~~~~~~~

Positive +

You let out the air you were holding back, sliding down onto the floor. Tears in your eyes as you stare at the stick in your hands.

You wanted to share this moment with Simon 3 weeks ago but he got called in for Deployment.

What was supposed to last a week turned to another. A month later they said that they didn’t have an estimated date but that it would take much longer than they expected.

Simon sent out a message through one of his superior, to tell you to not wait on him to see the results.

You went out to the shops to get a test. Nervous to ask the nice teen behind the counter for a pregnancy test.

Thankful that she was very discreet about grabbing it and putting it in at the bottom of the bag so others wouldn’t see.

You waited 3 weeks to finally take the test due to you not having symptoms but missing your period.

Pulling the bag out from under your bed, you went to the bathroom to seek the truth

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4 Months in

~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon was coming home today.

A few weeks ago you received word of the mission being complete but they would have to make sure the civilians were alright.

You ended up graduating from college and getting your degree. 3 months pregnant walking down the aisle to receive your diploma. Good thing the gown hid the small bump you carried.

You were alone for that day but later had dinner with some friends but you knew someone was missing.

Simon

Oh how you missed him.

You guys never actually said anything about what you were. Was he your Boyfriend? Just the father to your child? Maybe this was a bad idea? Maybe your mom was right about no one loving you. Maybe she was right about everything?

You didn’t hear the door open when you were deep in your dark thoughts.

Black combat boots came into view as you were staring at the floor.

“Y/n.” A thick deep voice snapped you out of the dark place your mind has crawled into. You looked up and you saw not a man in a skull mask but a bare face man.

Simon

Your Simon?

Was he yours?

“Simon..Welcome home” you gave him a small smile.

“Are you ok? You seemed a bit lost in there?.” He pointed to your head.

“Yeah, just thinking of something..” your voice went quiet at the end.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He sat down right next to you and reached for your hands. Both hands in one big hand.

“N-no it’s ok- we should focus on your return.” You wanted to turn the attention away from you. “Is there anything you wanted to do?”

“Ask you a question.”

His eye contact was intense to you. Always finding it hard to keep. Always making your cheeks flood with red.

“Are you…are you pregnant?” The final word made him break the contact. Accidentally gripping too hard on your hands. Clearly he was as nervous as you were.

Instead of answering him you got up and walked in your room, coming back out with a small box with a ribbon around it.

Simon being on a lower level now, you stared down at him. Handing him the box.

Taking the box from you, he inspected it. Grabbing the lid off and taking some tissue paper out, till he saw the black and white photo.

A 4 month old baby ultrasound.

You were holding back tears.

Seeing him pick up the photo with wide eyes that then looked up at your covered stomach.

He reaches for you but hesitates.

You grab onto his hand and bring it under your sweater. Hand now touching your skin.

“Has it been hard for you?”

“Not really, just feeling more sore lately.”

“How many months are you in?”

“I’m 4 months in but soon it’ll be harder to hide my stomach.”

“Did you not want this?” Simon stood up quickly, hand still under your sweater.

“N-no, I mean I haven’t really told anyone because I wanted you to be the first.”

Simon just stood there with wide eyes because he assumed you already told some friends. Could his heart beat any faster?

“I’m s-still not used to it. I feel like I’m swollen every day and it’s getting harder to walk for a long period.”

“Want me to run you a bath? I can order your favorite?”

“Yes please, I would like that.”

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

The birth

~~~~~~~~~

It was a girl.

You and Simon had a baby girl.

You were so exhausted after pushing for so long and just when you were going to go into surgery. She finally came out.

Through your exhaustion, you saw how Simon looked at her with so much love that you just started to cry.

Exhaustion being a big part but feeling like you did something that matters to someone else just made you break.

Was there a chance for you two?

“Congratulations,you two!” Said a nurse as she left you three alone.

“Can- can I hold her?”

You were still sobbing so you nodded, handing him his baby girl.

The sight of him holding her just made you cry even more.

Simon turned to you, pulling his mask up to his nose and bent down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you, for going through so much just for her.”

He placed his hand on your cheek, rubbing away the tears. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Maybe there was a chance.

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

2 years later

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Simon have been raising your daughter for two years now. Though still not together, you were fine with just co-parenting.

The three of you went on your daily walk to the park. Hand in hand with your daughter, as Simon watched you two a few steps back.

He enjoyed just watching the two of you be together. Simon saw a lot of him in his daughter. She is always confident on her missions, climbing to the top of the park structure. Her way of keeping eye contact sometimes turns into a staring contest.

Your daughter was always struggling with the absence of her father when he would get deployed. Crying and throwing a huge tantrum that resulted in him having to leave immediately from the two of you without a goodbye.

Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything to Simon when he would return. Giving him the cold shoulder and attaching herself to you.

“Mama, can we go to room?” Immediately pulling your pants leg.

“But daddy just got here and would like to see you.” You already knew what she was doing.

“I want cuddles with you.” She said pushing her head to your leg and grabbing onto your arms.

Simon just watched this happen since he was used to this.

“Ok, but I don’t think daddy will give you the gift he brought you?”

Her eyes went wide and started running into his arms. Simon bending down and opening his arms for her to crash into.

“I missed you daddy.” Your daughter told Simon.

“I missed you too, sugar cube.” The cute nickname she earned since she would drown her tea in them.

The sun was setting and the cool breeze was flowing through the air.

Your daughter loves the park and you love the walks you and Simon take.

Always finding comfort in the walks. Always finding comfort in him.

“When do you think she’ll be able to finally say goodbye.” Simon asked as you two were walking around some trees.

“I’m not sure? Honestly I feel like she’s getting even worse. She tried opening the door with her stepping stool.” You said letting out a sigh.

“She’s getting smart.”

That earned Simon a small punch from you.

“I just want her to have a good memory with her being able to say goodbye in case I die.” Simon kept walking but you stopped.

Simon looked back to where you stood.

“Why would you say that!” You were upset.

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Why would you want to think like that?”

Tears started to build up.

“Y/n, i think it’s ok to think like that.”

“No Simon! I don’t want to think about that! About you leaving her! Leaving me!” The tears spilled out.

“I would never leave you.” He grabbed onto your wrists. “I will always be here even after-“

“Simon stop-“

“Even after, I’m gone.”

His eye contact was so hard to keep up with. You honestly hated how he pierced right through you.

“I love you.”

You were shocked. Mouth agape and eyes wide. Did you hear him right? The man who you stayed with. The man who held you when you were vulnerable. The man who gave you a child. The man who just said I love you to you. The man who you loved.

“I love you and I want you to be mine.”

“Simon” you grabbed onto his cheek.

“Will you be mine?”

You gave him a small slap to the face.

“Why did it take you so long?”

You pulled up his mask and pressed your lips against his.

“Why did I take so long?”

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! Let me know any feedback!

˗ˏˋTaglist´ˎ˗ 💫

@hao-ming-8 - @yourmom3-5 - @thriving-n-jiving

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ophernelia · 4 months

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Hi. Do you have any tips on how to grow your sims platforms? I keep tryig and posting and I hardly get any interactions or followers. Idk what to do. I wish bigger creators would help out smaller ones more by reposting the content so it gets more views. Its so hard starting out

Hey! Yeah, I have a few tips I can share! This is gonna be long so beware!

I keep seeing this sentiment reiterated about larger creators. I get it, but I think everyone's missing one thing in regards to it: you already have access to the same audience they have. Just like you they grew their platform. Maybe it was a stroke of luck from a viral post or something, but they still had to start somewhere. What it takes is getting your content to hit the algorithm. That's all! So even if a larger creator never looks your way, you can still grow and curate an audience without their help. Small accounts are what make up big accounts after all.

You NEED good SEO. I'll talk about TikTok specifically. If you want a boost in visibility then get on Tik Tok. Properly tagging your content is the key to working the algorithm in your favor. I think people believe the more tags the better. No. The more accurately tagged, the better. The hashtags "TS4", "The Sims", and "The Sims 4" are always trending. You should always use those tags. The rest depends on the kind of content you're posting. I'll use my most viral video as an example. My Stormveil Chateau post on Tik Tok got 141.6K views, 22.3K likes. Since it was for a maxis match build I used the following tags: #thesims4 #sims4 #ts4 #simstok #ts4cc #fyp #sim #sims4tok #sims4maxismatch #sims4build #sims4builds #ts4build #ts4gameplay. Most of the tags are related to TS4 and TS4 builds. I wouldn't include anything about CAS, mods, etc. It wouldn't fit the post. Don't flood other tags in hopes of getting more views. It'll just bury your post under a bunch of random content. People have to be able to find your content.

Visually appealing content performs better, period. Y'all give the aesthetic girls hell but they know a thing or two about working the algorithm. I'll give them that! People like things that look nice. Now, that's not to say you need to purge all the color or character from your game. You don't have to follow a certain style trend. Curate your own personal style. Do what you do to the best of your ability. Whatever you post, just make sure it's good quality. Focus on sharpness, clarity, etc. If you wanna curate a particular look then go for it! But most importantly, having clear clean images or videos is the main thing you need. And you don't need a beast of a PC to do it. Sharpen your images and videos before you upload them using Capcut or something. Make sure the lighting is nice. Make sure it's a good resolution for the platform you're posting on. A quick tip: Adding dof to lower quality images makes it look better! See how the left photo looks more clear than the right? A little bit of depth of field helps so the pictures don't fall flat.

Pick a primary social to promote your secondary ones. Usually your primary social may be the one where you have your largest audience. For me, it was Tik Tok. On there I'd promote my Patreon, YouTube, and Tumblr. You just released some cc? Post something about it on Tik Tok, let your audience know they can find it on your Tumblr. Use one to promote the others.

Slow organic growth is STILL growth. Growing your audience is one beast, but maintaining it is a whole other thing. As someone who has gotten shout outs from larger creators, that initial boost ALWAYS dies down. And socials like YouTube will not hesitate to tell you "Hey boo, your shit's failing now. You kinda suck." Been there, felt that. Boosts from other creators and giveaways don't have much longevity. Most times that audience will leave. On occasion you may get a few who stick around, but most won't. That's why it's important to build your audience organically. Yes, it may take longer but they won't just dip out after a few weeks. Things take time to grow. Things take time to curate. Understand you are BUILDING something. It takes time!

And lastly- if you just really want the numbers and it doesn't matter what content you post, then here's what you do: Sell. Still use good SEO, still try to have high quality photos, but give people something to consume. People like to see what they can get. Post some builds, cc, whatever. If you're not a cc creator, then do cc finds, mod reviews, tutorials, build recommendations, lookbooks. People love a good cc haul. They wanna see what they can get. And that's not to say people that make this sort of content don't care about their content. I know they do and it's a lot of work! It still takes time and effort to curate. It's just HOT right now! Especially maxis match content. It ruffles less feathers because a wide array of the Sims community has a vicious vendetta against alpha cc. (Yeah ion know. They will "uncanny valley" and "just play IMVU' you to death. If I say what I think it is.. My people know.) But if you really just want thousands of followers, then there's a way to do it.

With all that said, I know how annoying it is to constantly hear to not focus on numbers but don't. CREATE FOR CREATION'S SAKE. Do it only because you enjoy it. Growth for me has come as a byproduct of me doing whatever the hell I wanted. I make Lykaia because I want to make Lykaia. I love that people love it but it is for me. Not to be an influencer, or to inspire, or to receive praise and accolades. I love everything about the process. Hell, I love the stress that comes with it! I have four scenes to film and I'm still not done editing the ones I have filmed. The episode is supposed to air on MONDAY. I fucking love working down to wire. It's stressful as hell but it feels good! If it's out there, the audience will soon follow. Always. Take your time. Be grateful for where you're at every step of the way. Enjoy the process! And remember that all it takes is one post to take off.

#text post #asks #and take this time to hone your skills!#i am a much better writer and director than i was when lykaia first began

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a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire · 5 months

Text

I finished acotar a while ago and I was gonna write a review right away but then christmas happened and I was pretty busy and wanted to enjoy myself so youre getting like two weeks late

It was fine, I really didnt have any strong feelings about the book itself. Like, my main complaints are that it was pretty boring and directionless for most of it and stuff thats mainly related to the next books, if I just look at it as a standalone I would describe it as "not for me, but not that bad"

That is, until we get to Under The Mountain, where everything just gets really stupid and convoluted. That whole section, which is a solid fourth or fifth of the whole book, severely clashes with the sweet fairytale romance that came before it. It reminds me of how all those twilight-knockoff trilogies in the 2010s would have two pretty low-stakes books worth of basically only romance with some weird magic sprinkled on top, and then in the last book it would turn out that the protagonist and her beloved need to Go To War or the world will end except even worse (also now that I think about it, the first three acotar books also seem to be structed like that, so youre getting two shitty plot structures in one. yayyyyyyy)

There was literally no reason for all of that happen, it was honestly just unpleasant reading about Feyre, who had spent the book recovering from her trauma in a way that was genuinely pretty nice to read about, being tortured for three months until she was feeling worse than she ever had before. And some people might say "oh, thats the point, its meant to be tragic" but it didnt feel like tragedy, it just felt tonally dissonant. Also, the entire ending was so weird and dragged out, like that bit where she and Tamlin are staying one last night UTM for some reason and then she talks to Rhysand before they finally leave and its like, BRO dont stay in the Palace of Torments for any longer than you have to, just leave through that portal-tunnel thing

Speaking of Rhysand, he wasnt that bad in this book but Im sure my opinion on him will change. The main thing that sticks out about him is how sjm simply could not resist ALREADY explaining all of his motivations and portraying him as someone whos obviously so noble, despite all the obviously horrific and completely unecessary shit hes doing. Like, theres that scene where Rhysand crushes that guy's brain when Amarantha ordered him to crush his mind and the narration goes "that was actually an act of mercy from Rhysand" ??? that mightve worked better in third person limited where youre working without the implication that the prose is the pov character's actual thoughts, but since its first person and meant to be Feyre's thoughts I was just like "why is she thinking that when she should be thinking 'holy fucking shit, i just signed my life over to a guy who could squish my mind like a grape if he wanted to?!?!?!!'"

Also, theres that scene where Rhysand comes into Feyres cell to "escape from it all" or whatever and he basically monologues to her about his sympathetic motivations and I just. sarah, girlie, you shouldve saved this shit for the second book. Like, rewrite the scene so that he just comes in eithout a word, hes totally unresponsive to Feyre insulting him or trying to ask him what hes doing here, he just sits down in the corner, knees pulled to his chest, he mutters something vague about just wanting to be left alone, maybe he's even got tears in his idk. I think that would be a far more effective way to have him be sympathetic in a more subtle way than just having him monologue his tragic circumstances and noble intentions at Feyre

Thats about it so far, I'll probably start reading ACOMAF in january when winter break is over and I can read it on the bus and in class again

#anti acotar #anti sjm #thorns and roses liveblog #book review

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darlingpwease · 1 year

Note

HELP this became much longer than I thought it would get I’m so so sorry :’)

ITS 2.6K WORDS IDK HOW IT GOT THIS BIG

-panna cotta

Warnings/Tags?: hinted fear kink, hinted humiliation kink, choking, sensitive Yuuta <33, hinted marathon sex at the end, I have no idea what to put here honestly

AHHH omg slime!reader?? Ik you already wrote about it, but it’s still wonderful all the same :DD

You are literally making so many ideas pop into my mind, absolute genius you are, Dove.

With this scenario, I’ll use sweetest baby Yuuta <33

Yuuta is such a gentle darling, sweetest thing possible, isn’t he?? So cute, so cute…

However, he would always be caught up with things, and be very exhausted. He’s a very hardworking person, so he doesn’t get as much relaxation or alone time as he’d like, never able to properly have time to himself, even if he gets frustrated sometimes- if you know what I mean..

Thankfully, though, he was recently able to get a week off, all to himself! When he was told, he couldn’t help but get excited, a whole week, where he can just take a break and relax? To be able to have some privacy, without needing to worry about suddenly having to take care of any jobs? Listen, he loves being able to help out, however, everyone needs a break at some point, you know??

Thus, he decided to go and head to a nice, calm area, and rented out a hotel room for his week off.

The first two days, he slept. He was exhausted, he was drained, so he was taking advantage of being able to finally catch up on some long needed rest, especially when he couldn’t help how dreadfully heavy his eyelids were when he laid down in his bed.

The third day, however, was quite different. He woke up late, and after lounging around for half an hour, it dawned on him that he truly has no proper idea on what to do. He could go out, maybe take a nice stroll, the weather today was nice after all. He was mainly focused on trying to sleep properly without being interrupted, maybe he shouldn’t have booked this place fore the whole week… He got too ahead of himself…

He stares up at the ceiling in a daze before he slowly heats up. It’s not noticeable at first, but when he begins to breath even just the slightest bit heavier, his inhales and exhales becoming just slightly more quicker, heavier, when he can help but squirm in place, eventually sticking his arm between his thighs, moving his hips up and down slightly– he thinks he has an idea on what to do.

Sliding his pants off, he can’t help but tease himself, gently grazing his fingers over himself, but not doing anything more, hissing slightly from sensitivity even though he has barely even done anything… he slightly rubs up and down, still not touching the way he should be touched, when he pulls away, there’s still a surprisingly hefty amount of precum coating his fingers… he can’t help but let out a soft groan.

Thus, he spends the third day teasing himself, and the third night thrusting his fingers in until by the time the fourth day comes, he’s sobbing on how little it seems to be for him, how he wants more, how he really really needs it.

He looks at ways he can feel better, only to stumble upon a website for toys. He’s thought about getting one before (maybe an onahole, or even a dildo? Those small vibrators seem good too, enticing–), but he never truly had the time to properly think about it before.

As he scrolls, and scrolls, he stumbles upon the monster toy area, and he can’t help but feel a throb between his legs. He knew that spending all his time with Rika and other cursed spirits warped his mind, but he didn’t know it was to this extent! He shyly looks through the options before he sees one that catches his eye,

“New and improved, Slime! Have a NEW way to play and enjoy yourself, with each product having a unique ‘personality’ every time! No Slime is the same here, so enjoy it! On sale NOW, with 24 hour shipping!”

Seeing that the reviews were very positive, he can’t help but give in, thinking that, well, if he’s on a break, he might as well enjoy it, right?

In putting his room number and the hotel address, he can’t help but wait in excitement for his new package to arrive. What would it be like? Would it be soft? Thick like honey? Watery? How would it treat him? Would it caress him slowly, or just jump on him right away??

His imagination ran wild, and the more ideas that came, the more possibilities, he felt he was going crazy, weak in the knees!

After waiting for hours and hours on end, he finally heard a knock on the door. He slid his pants back on with speed, stumbling towards the door, opening it for the delivery man to smile and give it to him. It was a dry smile, eyes shifting between the box and Yuuta, before walking away.

An oddly sweet feeling of humiliation ran, no, shot right up his spine as he stood in the doorway, holding the box close. A sense of shame ran through him as he looked at it, the plain, brown cardboard box before closing the door, heading to his room, proceeding to open it.

A round tube is inside, with instructions on the side. There is a square plastic window showing that inside the tube is a light blue liquid. Above the square are big bold letters spelling out “Darling”, the slimes name, perhaps?. He turns it around, before looking at the lid on top which seems to have two buttons on each side, lightly colored letters printed “press both at same time!” with arrows pointing to the two.

Reading the instructions, it merely says “Open the lid by pressing buttons then twisting. Drop 8-12 warm water droplets onto Slime, wait 20 minutes, then have fun with your slime, {DARLING}!!”

…huh… okay then…

Quickly grabbing a small cup of warm water, he opens the tube before awkwardly placing you onto the covers of his bed, shaking with anticipation as he feels heat constantly throbbing throughout his body. Dripping 10 drops onto you, he waits.

Panting, he takes his pants off once more while shuffling uncomfortably. 20 minutes, 20 minutes– since when has 20 minutes been so. damn. long..?

Gazing at you, he can’t help but get needy. Reaching down, he slowly starts to play with himself, harsh huffs leaving him as he grinds.

After doing so for a few minutes, he notices that you begin to move, slowly, but you definitely moved. When he originally placed you on his bed, you were barely the size of both of his fists together, but the more you sluggishly moved around, the larger you became. He couldn’t help but slow down, staring at you in awe as you eventually grew to be roughly around his size.

Yuuta couldn’t stop his legs from trembling (from fear? from need?) as you trudge forward towards him. Long slime appendages reach towards him, gently touching his chest. It wasn’t too hot, or too cold, but it felt gooey, almost like syrup as you dragged it up from his chest to his cheek. He couldn’t help but start shaking, his breathing coming out a bit too loud for Yuutas liking.

More appendages come from you as you begin to cover Yuuta, drooping over his thighs, his lower back, gripping his wrists and placing them behind him, leaving him unable to move them. You cover his chest, which seemed all flushed. While you’re doing so, Yuuta seemed to have froze up, not knowing what to do.

You’re touching him, you’re touching him.

And god does it feel weirdly good–

You don’t do anything at first, just slowly sliding around him. But once you touch him in between his legs, Yuuta lets out a shaky gasp. That felt good– you do it again, with more pressure this time, and he lets out a whimper, trying to clamp his legs shut, only to then realize that even if he did, it wouldn’t do anything.

You get in some kind of rhythmic tempo, trying to get more sounds out of him, more whimpers, more gasps, a moan– as you do so, you play with his chest, slowly sliding up his back as he begins to let out more adorable sounds.

Shaky breaths leave Yuuta between lewd whimpers. Wet squelching is heard through his ears and he can feel his blush grow. A red tint flourishes on his ears, down to his nape as he can’t help but mewl at how fucking good you feel–

As he lets out symphonic moans, you nudge against his hole, causing him to jolt.

He can only let out a quick “Ah- wait– !” Before you immediately push in, filling him in almost an instant and causing him to let out a cry. You don’t move immediately, twisting another appendage around his waist, up his back until you drag it up from his neck and across his mouth.

In a dazed panic, he tries to shut his mouth, but you seem to somehow notice and shoot it into his mouth before he could close it. You seem to curiously move around in his mouth, pressing against his cheek, the roof of his mouth, and even play with his tongue. The sticky, heavy feeling in his mouth causes Yuutas eyes to flutter slightly, muffled groans leaving him as you seem to press further until you begin to slowly move down his throat.

Choked gurgles leave him, he can’t breath, he panics. Despite huffs leaving his nose, he can’t help but still feel like he cannot breath at all… He’s scared, yet why does he still feel turned on? Is he seriously doing this? With a slime??

You begin to move in him, all sloppy and goopy, yet with a hard movements that leaves him being dragged up and down the sheets from the force. You don’t stop playing with him, thrusting in both his hole and his mouth as gurgled sobs leave him.

He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t move, ohgodhecantdoanythingbuttakeitand–

And it feels so fucking good–

His head gets thrown back as he spams, tightening up around you as he cums.

You release his mouth, and he sputters and heaves while long, shaky moans leave him, back arched and body trembling.

He looks, or, well, tries to look at you with wonderfully glazed eyes as he gasps out a quiet ‘darling’

You slow down for a second, leading Yuuta to think that you would stop and let him relax, only for him to be turned to his side as you lift one of his legs up, and thrust deeper inside him.

Tears and drool dribble down his flushed face as you hit him deeper and deeper, not giving him a break. A hard grind against his groin while you continuously thrust impossibly deep into him has him cumming again.

He sobs as he came again embarrassingly quick. He feels like he could drown in shame, and the noises surrounding him of you getting so deep in him, and the embarrassing ones leaving him makes him want to hide forever.

How is it so good, why is it so good–

The longer you keep going, the more Yuuta feels like he is losing his mind, he can barely think, talk… Hell, if you weren’t holding him up right now, he wouldn’t even be able to hold himself up!

As the night progressed, you don’t show any signs of slowing down. Harsh, cruel thrusts are still given to Yuuta. You keep going for so long, that from the fourth evening which you started, you are still going by the morning of the fifth day.

Now on his stomach, all he can do is lay there, face laying on a drool stained pillow as you have his hips lifted, legs all weak.

You finally let go of his wrists, instead gripping onto his waist surprisingly tight as you crawl part of you up to his neck, putting pressure on it.

Hoarse cries leave his lips, his eyes all beautifully red as tears keep streaming from them. His eyes all hazy, unfocused, as they roll at every thrust. Drool leaving a puddle underneath him as his mouth is kept ajar– he calls out (or tries too, at least) to you, slurred ‘darling’s, ‘more’s and ‘harder’s can be heard from him, albeit slightly.

The pressure on his neck leaves his vision even more blurry, he can hear how fast his blood is rushing, feel the addictive adrenaline rushing through his body, and when you hit that spot inside him juusst right– fuck, fuck it’s too good– he couldn’t stop himself from cumming once more.

You don’t even properly realize, but once you let go of his neck, you slide up just that little bit more, gripping onto his hair only to see his blissed out face is no longer conscious.

Only then do you stop. Pulling out gently, you lay him down with a softness that wasn’t shown before. You’re not exactly sure on what to do now, do you go back in your tube? Do you stay with your pretty person?

He’s so pretty… You caress his damp hair, making it sticky but you don’t seem to care.

When Yuuta wakes up, he feels sore all over. His throat hurts, his wrists, shoulders, neck, his legs, his hole really hurts… He can’t help but flush in shame. Everything hurts, but he can’t help but like it, especially after how good he felt, it was so good, sosogood–

His thoughts are halted once he realizes that he has no idea where you are. Where the hell could you have gone??

As he looks around, getting ready to try to look for you (he doesn’t even know if he can walk, he can’t even feel his legs), he sees you in the corner of his eye heading towards him. Shooting a look towards you, he can’t help but blush again, he has to calm down, he has to but he can’t help but want you to pounce on him again and just make him feel so damn good again, youre a slime what the fuck is he thinking—

You move towards him and hand something to him, a glass of water. He lets out a dry ‘thank you’ before he coughs, trembling arms reaching towards the glass as he drinks it shakily. While he does so, you pat him on his head lightly before leaving once more.

Where are you going…??

You come back again with a plate with a poorly made cheese sandwich, and once you lean in towards him, Yuuta can’t help but let out a sweet laugh.

The fifth day was mainly Yuuta recovering and you taking care of him (as much as you could, considering you mainly only knew how to sensually please humans). But as the sunset, while you pet Yuuta with a sticky appendage, Yuuta can’t help but lean in just a little closer, and he grips on (as much as he could, anyway) just a little harder… And when he rubs his cheek against you, with half lidded eyes, when he mumbles out ‘darling’ under his breath–

Even when all he did was call out to you, the look in his eyes says it all. The rubbing of his thighs together, the ways his breathing seems to grow heavier by the second, the way he flushes…

You pause, he is so so pretty, so beautiful–

Yuuta notices you pause and his chest tightens, why aren’t you responding? He shuffles closer to you, he leans in closer to you, brows scrunching up as his eyes being do water, ‘darling…’ he kisses your appendage, worried you may not do anything, he says

“Darling, darling please fuck me.”

Why, when such a pretty doll is calling out to you, what else can you do but indulge him? <33

cw xenophilia, dubcon, elements of cnc, elements of somnophilia, rough sex (choking), breeding, elements of cum (slime?) inflation (g.), hyperstimulation (g.),

to be honest, I have been thinking for a long time about how best to formalize my answer, and I came to the conclusion that I will write a separate post so that yours looks independent. of course, it may not be important to me, but!!! this is a real drabble!!! I can't let it be the same as other ideas... I will make my main answer as other post. you should. it should shine on this blog without me. I'll join later.

I just want to say that I'm on my knees it's absolutely amazing, thank you so much for your hard work and a huge brain, it's so,,,,,, ajsghsvdhdbd good,,,,,

yuuta, who understands that he definitely likes it when you fucks him unconscious, because it turns out to be the most effective way to spend all his energy — and even if his body hurts, he is so happy, feeling finally satisfied <333 when you completely fill him up like fingers can't — and any toy, he's sure — and Yuuta can only tremble a little, feeling how you care about making him feel full, but not overfull, sliding between this edge as well as when you make him cum again, holding hard enough to make it look like he's riding you, but you feel that if you let him go, he will fall </3

or when he is playing with you, gently pushing the almost gelatinous mass with fingers, treating you like a stress toy, trying to somehow take care of you with a massage (as far as possible, trying not to touch you too roughly and not to let fingers slip inside, even if he really like this feeling) or sleeping together (even if wakes up in a mess from another orgasm) — when Yuuta looks at how something that should be responsible for the absorption of nutrients is twitching inside you,,,,, he can't help but blush even more, especially if you ask what he's looking at <333 maybe he wants to feed you some more? see how your body copes with everything you squeeze out of him while he whines about what 'you're inside' and 'how good it is' <3333

his mouth, feverishly contracting when you push inside, moderately blocking his ability to breathe, feeling him tremble with fear and need; when Yuuta thinks he can't control anything while you carefully react to any of his movements and sighs, taking care that he reaches as many orgasms as he can <333 his body doesn't react exactly the way you thought it would the first time, but that's fine, you'll make sure you keep him in yourself often enough and find sensitive places in him until Yuuta becomes suitable for more interesting things.

but while this is not the case, you are still happy!!! you have the pretty human, the dripping needy hole and he whines delightfully when clings to a sheet or pillow while you crawl over his body, hot with excitement and shame, taking care that he is as exhausted as possible from how much you demand, making him to moan and shout your name while you fill him up or stay for a few minutes inside filling as much as he can stand for a couple of minutes before exiting, simulating orgasm only to feel him cum again from it <3333

you can't be an even happier slime, even when he asks you not to leave him (as if you can) or just lie with him, hugging — perhaps of all the slime you are the one who is the luckiest <3333

(in the morning, you still help him wake up with the help of a long-denied orgasm.)

HE GETS OBSESSIVE WITH YOU ANYWAY!!! you are reasonable and understand him (and even capable of clear answers even if using other ways of interaction) and you never leave him. his life with Rika has definitely not taught him anything healthy.

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