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curi0us-gh0st · 6 months

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Mama's Girl Pt.2 (Shim Suryeon)

pairings: Shim Suryeon x Fem!Reader, Joo Seok Kyung x Fem!Reader.

word count: ± 3k

genre: angst, fluffy.

summary: you don't have to do anything to make them fall into their own pits of problems.

warnings: abuse of power, revenge, anger, use of weapons, sadness, crying, suggestive of murder and suicide (?), mention of life after death (?).

a/n: some scenes inspired by the drama.

Family Line; 1 / 2

We all know the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression. Therefore, always at a stage as forgotten as it is most often invalid. Revenge. Everyone who has ever felt the thirst to avenge both their dignity and the desire to kill that feeling.

Knowing that actions due to this thirst and feeling would bring consequences to yourself, although everything pointed to this, that karma would also affect you, you didn't care, you didn't wait for karma to do it on its own. So when you infiltrated the Palace hotel, that's how it all began, your own revenge was beginning, your own quest to avenge your daughter on the vermin that lived in that penthouse.

It was so easy to get in that I thought it would be quick, but it wasn't. Revenge is a dish best eaten cold and slowly, it took about two months to plan everything, leaving nothing missing, every detail thought out in detail, no one would be left out. Nobody.

Invitations were posted to each family member involved, placed on their desks, closets, bags, and mails, where they would find them quickly. The day was set, arriving like a storm, the atmosphere tense among the members, all suspicious and anxious, even suspecting their own shadow.

Only one person was strangely different from the others, the pain in his eyes, the inner fight that he was slowly losing, the bitter and killing feeling gnawing at his being, thoughts not so different from when he saw you in the hospital, the guilt slowly killing him , slowly dying. Why Shim Suryeon?

Excluding Shim Suryeon's depressed and silent being, other people caught his attention while in the luxurious penthouse. The tearful and muffled requests from the other side, making your heart tighten in your chest, intrusive thoughts, how could someone be so cruel?

His eyes searching for someone else in the large room, silence to the requests, his body moving towards the clamor. The metal door, the hand going to the lever and opening it, the girl fell to her knees in front of her, crying louder as she asked for forgiveness several times, her chest hurt, her maternal side pushing her body to kneel in front of the girl , hold your face in your hands and pull out a few strands of your hair.

Her eyes met, her face full of tears, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red, sniffling realizing that it wasn't the person who trapped her. Your expression went from something empathetic to amazed, looking at the girl's features, your heart racing, a nervous feeling running down your spine, the world stopping for you. It looked like her, so almost like her, but it wasn't her, Min Seol Ah.

"W-who are you?" She asked with a blurry voice, almost voiceless from asking to be released.

Her brain stopped at the question, you quickly let go of her face and stood up as if you had just seen a ghost. She wasn't much different, getting up soon after, wiping her face with the back of her hand, waiting for his answer.

"I… I'm the cleaning lady!" She lied. "I heard you and came to see what was going on. In fact, look at the dirt!"

She ran to the cart pretending to be cleaning something, the girl was surprised, not wanting to continue with that stranger, she left, leaving her alone in the room, a sigh of relief leaving her lips until she left that place, leaving no trace.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

The night came like any other, she sat on the bed, facing the door, the time was getting later and later, seeming to wait for someone who would never come through it. Missing, anguish, pain. A mixture that made your stomach turn and turn, the hope of waking up from this nightmare was lost when calls were not answered, messages were not answered, when the entrance did not open to reveal the smile that lit up your life.

The noise of her cell phone interrupted her moment, calling and seeing another of Suryeon's many messages, eager for a response, for attention, for love, wanting to share the same pain that was caged in her chest, in the darkest and gloomiest place.

“Hello, Y/N.

How are you?

I'm sorry, I should have known you weren't okay.

In fact, nothing is.

I paid the hospital bill.

I don't want to redeem myself with this, I know you're not that type.

I... Well, I don't know.

Sorry."

4:00 am

“Y/N.

Can we meet?

I want to talk.

Please.

I want to see you.

I want to know if you're okay.

Can you answer me?

Am I bothering you?

Sorry, I'm sorry.

It's not my intention.

I really need you right now."

7:00 am

"What you been doing?

Have you changed your number?

Did you leave Seoul?

Where are you?

I can go?

I want to be with you.

There are things I need to talk about in person.

Y/N, Min Seol Oh, she…

Was she happy?

How small was she?

Did she look like you?

What did she like?

Forgive me, I don't know what I'm doing..."

10:00 am

"I bought some flowers and placed them on her grave.

I didn't know what color she liked So I bought one of each.

I talked to a friend today.

He said you can see the messages.

I think you are seeing them and reading them.

Answer me.

No.

I accept your silence."

15:00 pm

"I think I owe you a lot.

I won't be able to pay in this life.

Maybe next time."

23:50 pm

"In the next life.

Where we can be happy."

23:55 pm

*message deleted*

"In the next life,

I will pay for every wrong I did to you.

I know.

I look like a teenager.

So I love being the best of everything,

Imagine when it hurts to be so mean to you...

The pain of being so insufficient.

Your forever ended after meeting me.

I healed old wounds and ended up creating new ones.

I'm sorry, Min Y/N.

It hurts too much to admit that love alone is not enough and does not solve everything.

Hurt so much. I wanted so much,

I still managed to pretend I didn't love you."

00:10 am

The dawn followed like any other, bottles of soju next to the bed, the cell phone vibrating with each message arriving. You didn't think about how she was saying that, but you know, loving is good, therefore, forgetting too, living with and living without, you can say that it healed and there was no aftereffect.

In the morning at the penthouse, that smile appeared on Shim Suryeon's beautiful face, but it no longer affected you, it no longer despaired you. You barely remember your phone number, you don't know when you met, whether it was in winter or autumn, or whether you broke up in summer, you no longer know your favorite color, the wound that formed has healed and you are no longer afraid. of farewell. She no longer dreams or has nightmares, she no longer hates or desires, her eyes no longer fill with water, she no longer feels drowned, reading her messages or letters.

It doesn't matter whoever made the mistake was left behind. It doesn't matter if there's someone else, or if he's going to give her back, if he shows up in front of her house, he'll pretend he's not there, a way of saying he doesn't want to see her or talk to her, the most polite way he's found to deal with her. Looking at her face, and not remembering the beginning, you don't know her anymore, did she really exist or was it just something you invented? How much did she feel? How much did you give yourself? When did she lose you? When did she not see? The fact is that she gave up, she didn't go after it or look for it, she didn't lose her hunger or sleep, but she didn't care who she was with or where you were, she even smiled when they asked about her love and she almost forgot your name, she didn't remember your perfume, your birthday. Stuffing her face like anyone else who just lost their love, she pretending she didn't know you when she saw you walking with Seol Ah, years ago.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

Her heart grew cold, her fists clenched and she reminded herself why she was here. Wanting to see the pain and suffering of those people, to make her feel what her daughter felt, alone.

Everyone invented an excuse to leave the house at dusk, everyone inventing an excuse to find you, in that abandoned dump, far from the city, an inappropriate place for those who didn't see where their trash was dumped. The first to arrive behind someone, entering their cage, one by one, getting scared by the presence that arrived as they went along, trying to find the reason why everyone was there.

Jumping in fright as they were about to give up when the door of the old bus closed and the fire spread around them, fear and nervousness forming a tense and agonizing atmosphere. The masked person holding a shotgun, making the rich tremble at just the sight, but that doesn't mean that even though they were nervous, they didn't feel superior. Banging against the fence, asking to leave, asking who that person was, what the hell they were doing there.

"What the hell- Who are you?!" One of the men shouted, the feeling of knowing that voice, a familiar feeling.

"Release us, now!" One of the women shouted as if bossing you, what is she thinking?

Raising the shotgun towards them who ducked for cover, a Latin smile overshadowed by the mask.

“Min Seol Ah.”

They looked at each other, now I understand what it was about, murmurs being heard in the distance. An ignorant laugh that made his hands grip the gun more firmly, determined to do his worst.

"What are you? Some kind of avenger? Is that it? An avenger for that bastard girl?" The arrogant speech making anger course through the veins.

"Shut up! You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, you didn't even know her, you little shits!" The scream was thunderous, chills running down the spines of some present.

"You wouldn't have the courage to do that, of course."

What the hell is that woman thinking? Who does she think she is to say such a thing? Damn it, her body will rot with maggots tonight. A tightening of the jaw, the weapon being positioned, aiming at its target, hatred, rancidity, making soup in your stomach.

"That's what we'll see." They stopped quickly with the speech and positioning of the masked shooter.

A noise right next to him made him look away and a pistol was aimed at the unexpected guest. The eyes behind the mask being met with frightened eyes, standing a distance away.

"Shim Suryeon!" "Are you behind all this?!" The screams and accusations were heard from a long distance now, just staring at the woman standing still, her eyes red and her breathing unsteady.

"Hey…" Her voice, low and shaky. "I need you to control yourself." Her soft tone sounded not far from where she stood, eyes inspecting the inmates and returning to her.

“I know what you’re feeling right now, Y/N…” She said your name quietly. "The anger and the pain and the hate in your chest, I know you want revenge, you want to see them pay for it. But, it's not worth it. You know." Comprehensive.

"This won't make Min Seol Ah come back, much less make her pain go away…" The head lolling to the side, trying to find some lie in the strangely familiar eyes. "I'll let them go, please, darling…"

A huff left her lips, irritated. If she were without her mask, she could see his eyes rolling at his rather famous speech. The pistol lowered, turning to those trapped people, muttering and speculating Suryeon's unexpected appearance.

"Screw this." The voice cursed, before quickly disappearing from that place, leaving them trapped, screaming for freedom. Suryeon determined to go after you, I let go once again.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

“So, Madam Oh..” The voice sounded so calm in such a desperate moment. "How it was?"

“Oh! What the hell are you talking about? What do you want?" She screamed as fear spread through her tiny body as she struggled to stop the other woman.

An almost devilish smile appeared on the lips of the woman in front of the car, she pushed some more as the woman screamed to stop.

“What was it like letting my daughter fall off that damn penthouse, huh?” The question made the woman's body stop instantly.

"No. I don’t… That’s not… How do you know?” Her eyes glazed over, fear radiating from her body.

Reaching inside his coat and taking out an apple necklace, burnt and half destroyed.

“All this for what? What should I do with you? Let me see…” A silence appeared in the air being replaced by thunder. “Maybe, I should kill your daughter? What do you think?"

The eyebrows raised, suggestive and almost funny, a dark tone hovering between the speech.

"No!" She screamed.

“Hey, why not? Isn't that what you did to Seol Ah? Pushing from the balcony?”

"No! No! No! You are crazy! That is not what happened! You crazy!"

She continued screaming, a small alarm on her cell phone waking her up at the moment.

“That’s what we’ll see, Madam Oh.”

“Yoonhee.

Was you?"

03:33 am

"No."

03:34 am

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

The man found himself in the room seeing the girl behind bars, her face a little bruised, short hair different from before she was admitted, anger flowing through her veins.

"What are you doing here?" She muttered staring at the man in the suit.

"One moment." He replied, picking up a phone as he talked to someone else on the line, the girl approaching the bar.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” She screamed and the voice on the other end of the line caught her attention, her mother's voice.

"She does not know? Why don’t you tell the truth, Shim Suryeon?” He gave his smug smile as he stared at the girl.

"What I do not know?!" She screamed again. "Mother!"

“That Min Seol Ah was your twin sister.” He said amid protests on the other end of the line, looking the girl in the eyes.

“That’s not true… That’s a lie… That’s not…” The girl muttered.

She quickly grabbed the man's tie pulling him against the bars, hurting him, the doctors quickly got him out of there while the girl screamed curses and her own thoughts.

A long moment as he processed the new information, all these years of hurting a single person to alleviate his internal problems, his wounded heart dying as time passed, Seok Kyung didn't even notice when the nurse entered the room, approaching to take care of him. your injuries.

“Hello, Miss Joo, I came to take care of your injuries.” The voice was calm, as if speaking to a small child. "Do not worry about a thing."

The woman approaches the girl who looked like a dog after being beaten, cowering in the corner of the room. She lifted a small cotton ball, placing it on the girl's cut mouth, who moaned from the sting, cleaning the blood and applying medicine immediately afterwards.

She got down on her knees, holding the side of her face and brushing away the strands of hair, taking another piece of cotton to clean the wound on her head, the girl fighting back in pain. The eyes focusing on the things the nurse brought, then focusing on the eyes, those eyes... A feeling of familiarity being prevented by the mask, Seok Kyung raising his hand to take it off and the nurse walking away.

"Ready. You look brand new.” Her eyes closing, smiling behind her mask. “Be careful not to take off the Band-Aids.”

“Wait…” The girl said holding the nurse’s wrist. “Do I… Do I know you?” The voice gradually disappears, the woman leaving, leaving the girl alone behind bars.

“I always wondered what Min Seol Ah would look like with short hair.” The woman said before leaving the room, leaving a distraught Seok Kyung behind.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

“I never thought we would be here…” The woman said with bright eyes and a pained smile on her lips.

“Maybe, I always thought about that…” The other replied looking ahead at the woman in front of her.

The car stopped on the cliff, the dark forest being illuminated by the moonlight that hit the side below, a silence filled with pain, sadness and regret.

"Forgive me for…"

"No. You don’t have to do this, I promise.”

The arms around the body tightening a little more, the desire to merge and live together, this time, happily.

“I don't blame you and I don't want your excuses, just like I don't want to give you mine which would just be lies to ease your pain and my pain now... So, life makes crazy things happen, but don't blame yourself completely for that."

Her eyes filling with tears, her heart breaking into millions of pieces, the desire to go back in time and change everything wrong.

“In the end, you will always come back to me… Just as I will come back to you. Thank you, Shim Suryeon.”

A smile in the midst of sadness appearing on the lips, a mutual feeling, the past coming together one last time, maybe it's not so bad.

“Thank you, Y/N… I love you. I always loved you."

Lips meeting one last time, a single desire, a single feeling, a bittersweet feeling, awakened since the day one of them left and only one loved nothing, a last whisper of love echoing in their lives now, without meaning. One step closer to the tip, arms around each other, as the moon witnesses the last moment of togetherness, the last moment of love, the last breath of this life.

Maybe in another life...

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

I'm so good at telling lies.

This came from my mother's side,

She told a million to survive.

God, I have my mother's eyes

But it's my sister's when I cry.

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family lineage.

“Hey Seok Kyung, come quickly!”

The girl ran to catch up with the rest of the family, holding her twin sister's hand, as a small red line passed between them, connecting them.

The looks and smiles on their faces as they ran across the large field, the smell of nature and the warm feeling that warmed their hearts, family.

“I love you, Shim Suryeon.”

“I love you too, Min Y/N.”

“We love you too, mommies!”

#👻 gh0st fic !#kdrama #kdrama fic #the penthouse #angst #shim suryeon #seokkyung x reader #shim suryeon x reader #joo seokkyung x reader #the penthouse x reader #penthouse x reader

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kuromhiel · 2 years

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In a blink of an eye, I realized I experienced Love at First Sight

Female!Reader

➥Joo Seok-Hoon

As she stepped in the classroom, all eyes were on her. Including the CEO of JK Holding's son.

She tilted her head as she smiled, her eyes following the crowd infront of her. Then locking her eyes with the most intimidating looking man she's ever seen.

But that first impression was mistakened.

"Bae Ro-na." Seok-kyung spoke up. After Ha Eun-Byeol invited everybody, including you, to her party, and not including Ro-na, Seok-kyung seemed to invite the girl somewhere else.

"Come to my house. Let's study together." She smirked, Ro-na's face beamed, pointing at herself. "Me?!" She looked in shock.

"Yes, you." Seok-kyung raised her brows, smiling as she crossed her arms. "You too." Seok-kyung looked at you, who was standing behind Ro-na.

"Ah, are you su-" Seok-kyung walked up to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. "Super sure." She smiled, everybody in the room looked in shock.

"I guess I won't be going to the party, too." Seok-hoon shrugged, glancing at you who was already looking at him.

Eun-Byeol looked like a red bull, brushing her hair back as she glanced at you. "[Name] you could come with us inste-"

"She already agreed to be with us." Seok-kyung glared. The teacher came in, making everybody go back to their seats.

"Wah, this is your place?" Ro-na smiled as she looked through the window. You smiled as well, taking a look around. Ro-na continued asking questions about what their father's job is.

You felt a presence behind you, making you turn behind and look up. "Joo Seok-Hoon-shi..." He gave you a blank look. "Hm?" You felt your heart drop at his response, a drop of sweat running down from your forehead.

"How come you're sweating?" He sighed, getting a napkin from his pocket as he wiped the side of your head. "It's cold here." You let out a breathy laugh, "Haha..I just, well..."

Your heart was pounding into your chest, you found it hard to reply. "Oppa!" Seok-kyung called out, making her older brother turn to her and so does [Name].

Their mother stood before them as Ro-na started to great herself. Seok-hoon slowly dropped his hand, putting the napkin inside of his pocket.

"Ajumma!" You beamed, your hands covering your mouth as you gasp in shock. "[Last Name], [First Name]-shi..?" She looked just as surprised as you.

You ran up to her, the trio watching. "It's been a while, how are you?" She smiled, "I'm doing okay, thank you!" Seok-kyung tilted her head, "Eomma, you know her?"

"She's the daughter of [Dad's name], your father's friend." Seok-kyung nodded, looking at her brother. "Oppa, why don't you show them around?" Seok-Hoon glanced at his younger sister, before walking to the direction of their room.

You excused yourself, bowing your head as you walked away from Suryeon, you stared at the back of Ro-na's head before she spoke up. "Woah! Is this where you guys practice?" She looked around.

"It is." Seok-Hoon answered shortly. While Ro-na amired the piano, you looked at their study table. "Pretty organized." You were about to get a book but your arm hit a pen, making it fall under the table.

"Oh shoot!" You said under your breath. You went under the table, getting the pen before bumping your head, a hiss coming out of your mouth.

"Are you ok?" Seok-Hoon spoke up, kneeling on the floor to check up on your state. "I'm fine..." You smiled, rubbing your head as you sat on the floor.

"Be careful next time." He huffed, you looked up to see him stare at you, his eyes then moving away in a flash. You giggled, brushing your hair back as you put your hand above his knee.

"Never knew you'd care enough to say that." You joked, you flinched a bit from the sudden touch..Which was his hand ontop of yours. "Now you know."

Back from another break!!! Made this at school and I'm addicted to penthouse, again!

Requests are open~ Check my blog if you want to know which characters I write for.

Have a great day/night<3

If you want to donate -> Gcash: 09490447851

#joo seok hoon #joo seok hoon x reader #seokhoon x reader #seok hoon x reader #penthouse #penthouse x reader

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justalonelybitch · 2 years

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Be Mine?

Ha Eunbyeol x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Light swearing, mentions of toxic households

Word Count: 1.2k

Buy me a coffee :)

Eunbyeol gazed at you longingly from across the room, anxiously drumming her fingers on the desk. No matter how much she tried to pay attention to the teacher's boring lecture, she just couldn’t seem to stay focused. Her eyes naturally drifted, her mind was constantly consumed by thoughts of you. She watched as you attentively listened to the professor's lesson, hanging on to every word. She admired your ability to stay concentrated, when she could barely take her eyes off you.

There was just something about you that had her hooked, but she was never able to put her finger on it. Was it your dazzling smile of yours that left her heart racing in her chest? Images of your quirked lips filling her mind on sleepless nights, the pure, untainted look in your eyes made her knees weak. Your undying kindness towards every pretentious ass-hole in this school, there was just something that made her head spin with dizzying thoughts of you.

You were different from all the people she knew, and that was enough to have her hooked. A breath of fresh air, an escape from her life of toxicity, everything she needed to keep her sane. You’d never once mistreated her, in fact you even told her you respected her. You taught her a new way of living, a much healthier one than what she’d been brought up with. She wanted nothing more than to run away with you, holding each other in comfort as you confided in one another.

The only problem was that you weren’t hers. Coming up with endless fantasies of her future with you was never an issue for Eunbyeol. The hard part was making it a reality. There have been several occasions that she’d nearly spilled her heart to you, but there was always that lingering feeling of doubt. What if you didn't share the same feelings? Maybe you would finally turn your back on her, hating her for even trying to initiate something more than a friendship.

Nevertheless, Eunbyeol had always strived to get what she wanted, and you were no different to any of her several wants. She craved your attention, so that was what she got, taking the initiative to approach you first. But now, she longed for something more than a friendship. So she vowed to do whatever it took to earn the keys to your heart. She was finally ready to take a chance, staring hopefully from afar as she began to formulate a plan. She’d waited long enough for this day and she wasn’t willing to waste the opportunity.

Before she knew it, you were already bounding over to her, a bright smile adorning your lips. “Ready to go?” You beamed, holding out an expectant hand. Reflecting your grin with one of her own, she took your hand, tugging you down the hallways as she giggled giddily. She was really gonna do it this time, there was no doubt about it. Eunbyeol kept a tight grip on your hand, not enough to hurt, but enough to know you wouldn’t be leaving her anytime soon. You returned her gesture with a light squeeze of her hand, lacing your fingers together with an innocent smile playing on your lips.

She let you talk her ear off the entire ride home, listening attentively as you spoke of your day, acting as if you didn’t share every class together. Eunbyeol couldn't care less, as long as she got to hear your angelic voice she was able to put up with anything. She fought off the blood that threatened to rise to her checks upon realising your hands were still connected, seemingly stuck together like magnets. She let you mindlessly play with her fingers, her cheeks aching from how much you made her smile, dimples on full display.

Eunbyeol guided you up to her suite eagerly, swiftly dragging you into her room for some privacy. Bringing you into her home was risky, it only increased the possibilities of tainting your purity with her family. It was only in moments like these that she was glad for the lack of her parents' presence within their household. Once you were safely escorted to her room, she turned to you, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Movie?” She offered, taking a seat on her bed, patting the spot beside her.

Neither of you knew how you’d ended up tangled in a close embrace on her bed, but all you knew was that it felt right. The movie played in the background, but you were far more focused on each other. Eunbyeol was tracing nonsensical patterns on your exposed collarbone, leaving goosebumps in the wake of her fingertips. Her nails gently scrape your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You busied yourself with tangling your fingers in her hair, soothingly massaging her scalp.

She sighed in content, eyes fluttering shut as she relished in the moment. Holding her breath, Eunbyeol willed her eyes to open again, building up the courage to finally confess. “Byeol-ah,” you whispered, cupping her cheeks with the palms of your hands. “Is everything alright?” You questioned, tone laced with concern, worry filling your eyes. Nodding, she exhaled shakily, bringing her hands up to place them on top of yours.

“Be mine?” She blurted out, internally facepalming at her choice of words. “I-I mean-” she cut herself off, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, a look of defeat plastered on her face. Caressing her cheek with your thumb, you urged her to meet your gaze, staring at her with hopeful eyes. “Is that why you kept writing ‘I like you’ on my skin over and over again?” You asked thoughtfully, Eunbyeol looking at you in astonishment.

Her eyes widened comically, lips parted in shock and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression. Feeling something draw you towards her, you can’t help but inch your face closer to hers, lips almost brushing against hers, your noses slotting beside each other. You watched intently as several emotions were displayed in her eyes: fear, panic, longing, joy. “Eunbyeol,” you breathed out, nudging your nose against hers.

You blinked in surprise as her lips pressed to yours, finally connecting in a sweet kiss. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you hummed, heart beating wildly against your rib-cage. As you pulled away for a breath of much needed air, you learnt your forehead on hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she mumbled, eye still shut as she cherished the moment. Unable to fight off your smile, you pecked her lips repeatedly, hearing her giggle in delight.

“If it wasn’t clear, I like you too Eunbyeol. So much,” you admitted, shyly tucking your head into the crook of her neck, in hopes of hiding your bright red cheeks. “This feels like a dream,” she laughed joyfully, hardly able to comprehend the events that occurred. You chuckled at her words, grinning as she tugged you impossibly closer to her body. “Be mine?” You joked, a hint of seriousness underlying your tone. Eunbyeol wordlessly kissed the top of your head, squeezing tightly in silent agreement.

#penthouse x reader #the penthouse x reader #eunbyeol x reader #ha eunbyeol x reader #ha eunbyul x reader #eunbyul #eunbyul x reader #penthouse fluff #fluff #confession #gxg #wlw #writing #fanfic #kdrama

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gutsby · 2 months

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Cabin Fever

Pairing: Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader

Summary: Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Warnings: 18+. DEAD DOVE: DNE. NONCONSENSUAL. I’m never ever beating the insane bitch allegations, I fear. Protector-turned-pervert-turned-unwilling-captor-kinda. Corruption kink. Daddy kink. Somnophilia. Misogyny. “It’s too big; it won’t fit” + Joel “I’ll make it fit” Miller. Captivity on both ends. Oral (f!receiving). Gunplay. Oversimplified first-time anal. Uno Reverse Drugging. Evil, inexperienced reader meets evil, feral, slutty Joel. Attempted murder x3. Russian Roulette…as foreplay?

Notes: Both characters SUCK. I condone nothing they do. Please do not take any of their behavior or language to reflect my own moral predilections. That is all 🚬😵‍💫

You were hardly shaking at all when he’d found you chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains.

He didn’t see that every day, that was for-fucking-sure.

Joel Miller barely got to see his share of happy, grinning girls on the cold and bitter frontier he inhabited. Ones that were tied to posts and clinging to life were even less common, so the sight of you there had almost frightened him at first. He’d approached you like one might advance upon a sleeping bear: with the utmost caution and a Winchester Model 70 levelled directly at your head.

He’d learned you were unarmed and defenseless in less than a second. He’d come to realize you were largely unconscious—and unclothed—even sooner than that.

He had been industrious in freeing your hands and feet from their restraints but never uttered a word as he did.

Even on the two-and-a-half mile trek back home, he hadn’t spoken once. You’d hung off his left shoulder like a pretty, frosted slab of meat, covered only with the sherpa blanket he’d secured around your neck, and dangled precariously down his back for the entire fifty minutes.

Your toes were two shades shy of onyx with frostbite.

Your limbs were hanging like lead over his chest.

A whisper of, ‘You’ll be fine, darlin’, I promise’ had just seemed ill-suited for the circumstances and his nature. In truth, Joel didn’t know if you’d be fine. You might die. The blood wouldn’t be on his hands one way or the other, but he never had liked burying bodies this time of year. He’d have to wait until April to break ground, at least.

Presently, he dropped your limp form to the floor of his cabin and hoped he wouldn’t be needing to bury anyone.

You sort of looked charming in the firelight.

He stomped off to the kitchen and began rifling for pans, preparing to defrost the icy stranger as best he could.

You didn’t die.

You didn’t wake for forty full hours, but you didn’t die.

When you stirred on the floor with warm sherpa around your shoulders and a rough calfskin rug under your ass, you thought you had died—maybe taken a pit stop in cowpoke purgatory while you were at it—but then you blinked. Breathed. Realized you were still very much inside your body and most likely still in Wyoming.

You sat up where you were and looked around.

“Da-a-d?”

You knew it was useless, calling for your father.

He had been dead almost eight months; you just wanted to double-check to make sure you were still on earth.

When dead dad didn’t answer, you tried someone else.

“Momma?”

Still no answer.

Figured, since she was among the ones that had left you chained outside in the first place. It’d been worth a shot.

You started to rise from your place, when a sharp pain in your side made you plop back down on the rug. You winced and lifted the blanket, then your old nightie.

A neat little taped-down bandage had your ribs encased in antiseptics and gauze. You frowned down at a stain in the centre, which looked to you an awful lot like blood. That circle of old fluids must’ve been twice the size of your fist and currently oozing tiny, fresh beads of blood from the strain you’d just exerted. You pursed your lips.

Least they could’ve done is kill me, not leave me here.

You’d take it up with your old would-be assassins another day, you were sure. Right now, you were parched, starving, in dire need of a piss, and reeling on the floor to grab hold of something sturdy to lift yourself. But you were as much a child then as you had ever been, swaying in place and clawing at air like someone who’d never kept their balance before. Or might’ve been drunk.

You rolled onto your good side and cast a sweeping look around the cabin. You smelled slow-cooked barbecue.

Thank fuck, you thought.

Now, if I were a juicy rack of ribs, where would I be?

The kitchen was dark and empty; the smell was coming from elsewhere. You craned your neck, tilted your chin, spotted a loft overhead but figured it wasn’t too likely to find someone grilling up there, so where the hell was it?

And who the hell was it, smoking meats and mending up strangers in the cold and lonely dead of winter like this?

You put a pin in that thought as you searched for a place to pee.

By the time you’d hobbled out of the bathroom, the smoky smell had grown even stronger. It was so pungent it bordered on vertiginous, invading every inch of the cabin with a force. Then it was leading you, teasing you by turns to venture outside. All you had on your feet were some oversized socks and two strips of medical tape.

Against your better judgment, you continued to hobble.

Out the door, down the steps, slowly, then following your nose and the first whiff of smoke you smelled to make it to the place you were almost certain you needed to be.

You trudged around a corner of the cabin’s exterior and stopped. Turned around. Cursed your own senses for being so stupid to miss the huge fucking shed spewing smoke out front—or was it the back?—and plodded on.

Your feet might have carried you a third of the way there before your powers of sight and sound eventually failed you again, and you missed another big something.

Big and beige and coated in snow—baring its teeth and snarling at the unfamiliar presence as soon as it saw you.

The next thing you knew, sixty-two pounds of Belgian Malinois had had you knocked to the ground in less than a second. You hardly understood what had hit you until it was barking and chomping away an inch from your face.

You fought hard and frantic to shove the ugly fucker off, but your bandaged hands were no match for its paws. The dog continued to tear at your blanket, nip at your ears, claw at your neck, and all around snuff out any sense of peace you might have acquired in the dozen-odd minutes since you’d first woken up. You screamed.

You yelled as loud as you could and felt yourself cower and sink lower into the snow as you fought.

Just when you tried to raise a knee—to kick the animal in the ribs or else protect your own—a sound broke out above the buzz.

A voice, clear as day:

“CUJO!”

The dog stalled on top of you a moment, just to be yanked off the next, and the closest thing afterward was a face—kinder than Cujo’s but not by very much.

It was a broad, bearded, pock-marked head with more soot to recommend itself than skin. Lips smeared with ash and grime and curved down in the single most decisive frown you’d seen in your life, the man looked to be beside himself seeing you tits up in the snow.

He gripped one arm of yours, then dropped it.

Picked a leg up, paused, then hauled you into a cradle carry as graceless as you’d ever felt it done before.

“Come!” he snapped, and it took you too long to realize that he was talking to the dog. You’d already wrapped your arms around his neck in abrupt complaisance.

He carried you back into the cabin and kicked the door open in front of you. He held you firm for a second, then, just as he had outside, changed course before you knew what to do and was shortly depositing you on the sofa.

You winced when your ass hit the cushion.

You started to sit, grab a pillow for your back or just bring your knees to your chest, when suddenly a palm was pressing flat on your front. Forcing you to lie down.

“Hey, hey!” you cried when the man started lifting the hem of your nightgown.

If he’d heard you at all, he didn’t show it. He just worked his thick, dirty fingers under the fabric and raised the white satin like he might the hood of a car. He frowned.

It was then that you noticed a blooming red splotch on your side, slowly overtaking the terra-cotta color of dried blood on the bandage and spreading out. Then a pain.

Instead of pushing the man’s hands away, you were holding them tight, wrestling that same touch which was trying to keep you from poking around the area now.

“Quit,” the man said, sedate as could be.

“Hurts,” was all you could think to tell him—and you guessed he’d already had that part down by the outpouring of blood. He shoved your hands off.

The brand new crimson hue had already soaked through the bandage. He pulled it off. You caught a glimpse of a wound that seemed to be weeping through its stitches—oozing pus and blood and a gore you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing. You would’ve liked to run a couple gentle, awed fingers over it, but as it was, your coarse and tight-lipped medic wouldn’t let you.

“Hold still,” he commanded.

“Heystopstopstop!” you implored him, feeling a streak of pain up your side as his calloused hands delved deeper.

At your latest flinch and plea, the man seemed to have had enough. Or just needed to angle your body in a different direction for easier access to the site. He gathered you back up in his arms and walked over to the kitchen, where he set you down again on the counter. Hands moved to your hips, briefly, to push you back on the surface and allow him to stand between your legs. Again, the man frowned as he peeled off your pyjamas.

Two warring fears of pain and overexposure fought like wild beasts in your brain for a second—you yelping and trying to cover your breasts in a hurry, then realizing how much it hurt to lift your arms that way when your ribs were dripping blood, then the man making the decision for you both as he pushed your hands behind your back and said a simple ‘Fuck’s sake’ to keep you pinned.

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it, and you let him continue, because you knew that you didn’t know shit about doing this yourself.

Joel must’ve fixed your dressings fourteen times before turning you loose. He’d had you perched atop his counter like goddamned Prisoner-of-War Barbie, all riddled with bumps, bruises, and lesions galore, looked your body up and down just once, and nearly grew sick at the sight.

He’d disgusted himself by feeling as aroused as he was.

Shortly thereafter, he’d toted you off—before the blood could rush down to his dick and start to swell—shrugged your gown over your torso, and stepped away. Simple.

Then you’d had to go and throw a wrench in his plans.

“What if I need to pee?” you’d said as soon as Joel started up the stairs with you in his arms again.

He had meant to drop you off on the bed in the loft, out of sight, but it seemed you were more concerned about the prospect of traversing the steps up and down for potty breaks. Joel had audibly huffed above you.

“I can leave a bucket.”

“Yu-uck.” The latter word had been given two syllables to show the full extent of your disgust, like a child might do.

And that was how you’d ended up here: snug in his bed on the ground floor, curled up in more layers of flannel and wool than you could count and staring blankly up at the man who was standing cold and aloof off to the side.

Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.

He figured they would be.

Joel picked up the glass that sat beside your empty one on the nightstand and drank, watching you all the while.

“D’you know my momma?” you asked, voice sounding extra small coming from the depths of your cocoon.

Joel finished his drink in four big gulps.

“Sure hope not,” he said once he’d set it back down.

By the sight of the scars he’d found littering your hands and back alone, Joel was able to surmise you’d come from a pretty rough, ragtag group. Maybe even Raiders. Knowing folks like that simply never struck one’s fancy, so he’d been honest. You might’ve argued, or laughed, if you hadn’t been nabbed so tightly in the grips of those first stages preceding sleep, so instead, you nodded.

“Figured,” you mumbled.

7:11, Joel read on the clock. You’d finished your drink at seven, or somewhere thereabouts. Judging by your size, it wouldn’t take long at all for the medicine to take effect.

‘Medicine,’ Joel thought, sounded a whole hell of a lot better than ‘drugs.’ One was meant to rehabilitate, rejuvenate, bring new life to your worn and weary bones. The other would just knock you cold and keep you there.

On second thought, those were definitely drugs Joel had just slipped in your water before giving it to you to drink.

As your eyes blinked from closed, to open, to closed, then open but slightly less open than the time before, and closed again, he felt a sick sense of accomplishment twist in his gut. If only his former-nurse friend could have seen what he was doing with those morphine sulfate tablets he’d traded for—he likely would’ve slapped Joel across the face. And Joel would’ve smiled all the same.

Yeah, okay, drugging the unsuspecting and defenseless female he’d just saved from death’s doorstep two days ago didn’t look great on paper, he would fully concede.

But this was all in good fun.

Great fun, even.

For him.

“Sick fuck,” Joel muttered as he started to undo his belt. The button and zip were taken apart just as fast, and with two steps, he was standing at your bedside—his bedside—and tugging his trousers down his legs. He took his cock in his hand and glanced over at the clock.

7:15.

He nudged your shoulder.

7:16.

Peeling layers of blanket away from your body.

7:17.

“Hey…honey?”

A lot more nothing from the girl sleeping in front of him. He shrugged his jeans to the floor, kicked them off at his feet, and moved onto the bed. You just looked so sweet.

Joel tried working around the fabric of his boxers but got impatient pretty quick. He hauled those off, too.

Soon, his beefy, bare, and surprisingly tan legs were bracketing your hips as he stroked himself above you. His eyes roamed the lax and tranquil features undeniably characteristic of sleep, and he pumped himself faster. Really, there was no need for theatrics or enhancements now—he was already hard as three tonnes of steel—but Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t like the build-up.

You were no longer in danger of dying, thanks to him. You were slowly but surely on the mend, no thanks to Cujo at all, but many thanks to him, Joel Miller, the man who had pried you off of that post, pulled you out of your chains, ushered warmth back into your limbs, and stitched up your side out of the goodness of his heart.

Any objective onlooker could see that you’d availed yourself of his medical attention and aid without ever asking, so why should he request access to you now? This was the way of the world these days, anyway. Sex was no longer so much a question as it was an answer in most scenarios—a mere transaction, wherein the physically weaker of two parties was forced to capitulate. Not within the four unsullied walls of Jackson and a few other pockets of homestead communities here and there, but on the whole, absolutely. Jackson was down the road a ways away and sufficiently far enough from Joel’s cabin for him to be disentangled from their rules. What mattered now was obtaining what he was owed.

Still, the man hesitated a half-second longer above you. He jerked his cock even faster and felt his stomach start to clench. Was that? No—nerves were fucking juvenile. Getting close to cumming from just the sight of you alone was for chumps. Joel Miller was no chump.

He lifted your nightie and lowered the head of his cock to rest between your folds. Then he shifted his knees so that he could rub himself gently against your warmth.

Joel Miller was a monster, but he was no brute. He also understood female anatomy well enough to know that, well…wetter was better. He started moving his hips.

You exhaled through your nose. Nothing major; you probably hadn’t even felt him long enough to whine.

Joel planted a hand beside your head—a preemptive warning.

“There…” He liked to talk as though you could hear him. Like you might be semi-conscious and dimly aware of what he was doing to you then, “Right there…ah, baby.”

He never did catch your name.

That was no matter. So long as you stayed put and made a nice, wet, pretty little hole for him to fuck, you would be fine. By the feel of your folds alone, he could tell you’d be a fun thing to use. Soft and snug and plied with drugs, you could do, and be, anything he damn well needed.

Or maybe nothing at all, he thought without humor.

Joel brushed your cheek with the knuckles of his free hand and watched you turn away, making a face. He snagged your chin and tilted it back to him, sharply, before gliding those fingers down your chest, then your tummy, then your hips, then dipping between your legs. He found your clit and pressed it with a deliberate touch.

“Hey,” Joel whispered, again, as though you might hear, “You’re gonna stay still and let me do this.”

Your nose scrunched in response, thighs clamping together. Joel pried them apart with one push and continued sliding his cock back and forth. He grunted.

“Gonna let me take what’s mine, hear?”

You didn’t hear much of anything, he suspected, but he asked the question all the same. At least now your legs were staying open and he could rut himself gently into that space without having to keep them spread. A first, gentle ‘mmph’ sounded from your lips, and he was glad. He kept thumbing that spot he knew you would like and rubbing along the seam of your cunt with his erection.

Then Joel felt a weight on his shoulders. Remorse? No. Anxiety? Perhaps. This felt more like a fog, though, seizing his muscles and seeping gently between the grooves of his brain. He gave his head a fierce shake.

“Hold still,” he said, more to himself; you hadn’t moved.

Joel fisted the base of his cock and angled the tip toward your entrance, caring much less whether you were ready or not now that his desires had grown stronger.

He was met with resistance on trying to push in. He dug his fingers in the pillow beneath your head and scowled.

“Quit…clenchin’…like that. Ain’t…fair to me,” he huffed.

He was one to talk.

Now, he’d been with a staggering number of women, experiences ranging all across the spectrum, but even the tightest, most untouched pieces of ass he’d ever tapped had given way more than this. Your walls were unyielding, refusing to give him entry. Joel cursed and rutted his hips in a rough, entirely unsuccessful, thrust.

You hummed in response, eyes still closed, one hand fumbling mindlessly for something to hold. Joel seized it.

“Not lettin’ you off that easy, darlin’, I—”

“Fuck,” you breathed, followed by a low whimper.

Joel froze. Had you heard him? Felt him just now?

Something about the uncertainty laden in those questions sent his mind into overdrive, heart beating a wild cadence in his chest. He realized then that his mouth had gone dry, his vision was skewed just slightly on the outskirts. And his cock was throbbing.

“Ya like that?” Joel seethed, not thinking, still rubbing, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”

“Uh-huh.” Softly.

You little slut. He knew it all along.

Whatever it was that kept your body from being coupled with his was almost immaterial to him now. Joel’s mind was swimming with desire, cock dragging in desperate, fitful bursts between your legs, never penetrating but still wringing massive jolts of pleasure from that place.

With the way he was feeling now, Joel could cum from just fucking your thighs. And that was alright.

You were moaning underneath him. Even…smiling?

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty.”

Joel had never called a girl pretty before and meant it. But he hardly knew how else to describe you now with how good and sweet and fine you were making him feel. A strange warmth sank into his chest, making it harder to breathe, and then he was panting above you, as if he were really inside that dripping wet spot. He was close.

“Such a pretty…sweet…fuckin’ thing for me.”

That red, raging, leaky cock of his was almost a blur between your legs, he was thrusting against you so fast. Joel thought for one frightening second that it might be his skull that would explode instead, so high was that pressure between his ears, but his fears were promptly put to rest as the first rope of cum came stuttering out. Then another. Then another. Then another.

By the time he finished, he could’ve sworn he’d left a hundred spurts on your tummy. When Joel glanced down and saw a sea of opaque, sticky white, he groaned.

Then he fell. Fully collapsed at your side with his brain in a tizzy of wild, heady feelings and sank into himself.

He hadn’t even fucked you, and he felt like he had.

He lifted a hand to wipe away his spend, but he couldn’t.

He would get to it in the morning, before you stirred, he thought. He thought. He didn’t have the chance to think much longer at all, as darkness started hedging him in.

He slept.

It was 7:57 when he woke.

The man had no real way of knowing that, though, seeing as he was greeted with a nickel-plated revolver between his teeth the second he opened his eyes.

You were straddling his torso, gun pinched between two calm, bandaged hands. You frowned when he jumped.

“WH—” he started.

“Shut up.”

“ST—”

“I said shut,” you cocked the gun, holding it tighter, then shoving it even further inside his mouth, “the fuck. up.”

The man obeyed.

‘Joel M.’—you’d read the name etched on the butt of his pistol before picking it up some twenty minutes ago.

“Pretty fuckin’ thing,” you mocked the man’s Texan drawl as you wiggled the barrel even deeper along his tongue, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”

The man’s eyes widened.

How dumb did he think you were?

Offering a semi-clear liquid that should’ve been water; he hadn’t even waited for the morphine tablet to fully dissolve before handing it over to you. Fucking idiot.

You were more disturbed by the fact he’d thought you stupid enough not to notice than him actually trying to drug you. The latter was almost to be expected from predatory, execrable men like him, but the insult to your intelligence? Unacceptable. You’d remedied that affront fairly quickly, though, swapping his glass with yours the second he hadn’t been looking, then nestling into his bed and playing pretend for what had felt like an eternity.

You’d been awake the whole time the man touched you, not knowing what the hell was going on but feeling like you had to stay still. Let him finish. Out of fear, at first, then curiosity, then some strange and unfamiliar sensation that you couldn’t quite describe as anything but a pleasurable itch between your legs. You let the man continue, hearing him grunt and groan and swear up a storm before he shot something hot all over your tummy. By the end of it all, you knew it was wrong, and you knew it was dirty—though you weren’t sure exactly what it was that he had done—but you wanted to learn more.

Which was probably why you hadn’t just shot the old pervert right between his eyes the second he’d stirred.

You shifted atop this ‘Joel M.’ and frowned once more.

“Why’d you stop?”

Gun still wedged in his mouth, Joel’s voice sounded garbled as he spoke, “Wha-agh-at?”

You retracted the metal just long enough to pose the question again. When you had, he still looked stunned.

“Answer me,” you barked, and feeling your patience lapse, got straight to pistol-whipping the motherfucker upside his half-grey head, “You DUMB, or somethin’?”

The man sputtered again.

“No, no— I don’t— dunno what you mean.”

He sounded dumb. You would need to spell this out.

“Why did you stop rubbing me like that?”

If anything, the clarification only seemed to baffle him further. He opened his taut, bearded mouth, then closed it, then eyed you up and down with a look that said he was considering something. Then he stared at one spot.

You glanced down at it too.

“And what is this, anyway?” you asked, swiping one finger at the mostly dried moisture on your stomach, “Why’d you spit this stuff up all over me, huh?!”

“I ain’t—”

You raised the gun as if to hit him again. He jolted back.

“I didn’t mean— shit. Shit, I just…came on you, ‘s’all.”

“Came?”

The word hung in the air like a grenade, waiting. Mr. M was already bracing himself for the impact, it seemed.

“Came?!”

That bracing served him well, because in the next second you were lifting the weapon even higher and eyeing him with the most pointed, putrid look of disdain. You’d never been one for letting grenades go untouched.

“Ejaculated!” Joel hissed, lifting a hand to shield himself, “Felt— felt so good I just couldn’t stop and I-I-I came.”

You paused.

Came. Felt good. Couldn’t stop.

You had felt good when he’d rubbed you. You had not wanted him to stop. But then he had. And you were mad. You’d never been touched that way in your life, and now you were feeling fifteen hundred emotions at once.

Were you supposed to ‘come,’ too? Why did he stop?

“Why didn’t you let me…ejaculate, too?” The words felt foreign and strange on your tongue.

For the first time, you saw one side of Joel’s lips twitch. Evidently fighting the urge to turn them into a smile.

“Girls don’t really…do that,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Why? Ain’t ever had your pussy rubbed on by a man?”

You shortly landed the blow you’d been holding over his head, splitting the skin along his brow with one hit from the butt of his gun. Joel jumped again, then moaned.

“Crazy bitch!”

“Creepy fuck.”

Your eyes narrowed with loathing, unable to comprehend how a man so vile had just made you feel so good. Your stomach was twisting in knots while Joel rubbed his forehead, pawing helplessly at the gash you’d just left.

“I saved your life,” he grumbled, low, “You owed me.”

“Did I?”

Abruptly, and without really thinking, you were sinking the muzzle of the gun into the spot you’d just cut, mouth kicking up in a smile at the sounds of pain it elicited.

“Did I, Joel?” you cooed.

“How the— the fuck do you know my name?”

Momentarily, you yanked the revolver from his face and tilted it to show him his name carved into the bottom.

“What’s the ‘M’ stand for? ‘Molester’?”

“Means ‘mind’ your fucking business,” he spat.

You probably would’ve hit him again had it not seemed as though he were trying to sit up just then. You slid swiftly from his frame—just to take a step off the bed, gun still pointed at his head. Then you backed away.

One by one, rapidly, you unloaded the bullets from the cylinder, maintaining a safe distance from the man all the while. You watched him blink and try to get some thing from his eyes, but he didn’t seem keen to move.

You left just one live round inside. You made a point to spin the cylinder and, again, aim it straight at his head.

The man was blinking even harder. Rubbing now, too.

“I feel…” Joel murmured.

“Drugged?” you returned, “Yeah, that must suck.”

A set of wide, irate, and horrified eyes met yours. His mouth hung open in a stupid look of shock. Trying to piece the last bits of this fucked up jigsaw puzzle together and growing angrier by the second.

“You fuckin’—”

Joel’s words were cut short by the weight of your body barreling back over his. Graceless, you imagined, but still nothing close to something you cared about now. You planted your knees on either side of his ribs and grazed the tip of the six-shooter down the length of his nose.

“Tell me,” you said, “How’d you make it feel so good?”

Your hips twisted for effect, jostling the man’s own parts beneath yours and clearly causing some effect in him. The muscles in his jaw jumped up as he gritted his teeth.

“You know damn well, slut,” Joel griped.

Without another thought, you squeezed the trigger.

Click.

The man’s whole body lurched underneath you. Trembling with the realization that you’d left just one lone bullet for him—and he didn’t know which chamber.

As far as foreplay went, Russian Roulette was probably a first, even for a man as wanton and depraved as Joel. You smiled sweetly and made another gyration with your lower half, which prompted him to grip you. Tight.

“What? Ya want me to fuck you, is that it?” he growled.

“I thought it wouldn’t fit.”

“I’ll make it fit.”

“How?”

Try as you might to conceal it, your gaze likely betrayed a hint of sincerity as you made that last inquiry. Joel’s eyes flickered between yours, searching for something there, and just when those glossy brown irises had found it, they stopped. Blinked. He shook his head, incredulous.

“My mind ain’t…right,” he said, slowly, “But I— I know you know what I mean by that, sweet pea.”

Something in your tummy fluttered at the sound. You gripped the pistol tighter to get rid of the feeling.

“I don’t,” you answered.

Again, Joel was stumped. For the first time, though, there appeared to be some sympathy behind his eyes. Or stupidity. Or just a shit ton of morphine coursing through his veins as he tried to make sense of this situation.

As if to confirm an idea in his drug-addled brain, he lowered a hand between your legs and hovered there a second. He watched you; you watched back but didn’t move.

Then slowly, almost clinically, Joel slipped two fingers underneath you and found a soft, pulsing warmth—far wetter than the last time he’d touched down there. When he pulled his hand away, both fingers and half of his palm were glistening with a fluid. You let out a startled cry at the sight of it and nearly dropped your gun.

“What is that?!”

Joel looked to you, equally awed—for different reasons.

“What do you mean?”

“Why’s it all…sticky?”

You couldn’t even try to hide your horror at the thought of that weird, syrupy stuff leaking out of you. It was strange enough feeling it come out of a freak like Joel, but from your own body? He had to be fucking joking.

“It’s normal.”

“Like hell it is— you— STOP!” The last fragment of your sentence was swallowed by a scream, leaping back when Joel moved his fingers toward your face.

“What? You’ve never seen this?” He sounded like he was teasing. You could shoot him for how smug he sounded.

In very small amounts, you’d seen stuff. Blood every month. Bits and pieces of bodily secretions that, to you, had always seemed gross. But never this. Never big, sticky globs of…whatever the fuck this was. You continued to back away on the bed, gun still tipped toward Joel but now trying to put some distance between your bodies. You didn’t know how else to act.

You did know you wanted to scream when Joel stuck his fingers in his mouth. Bile might’ve jumped in your throat.

He sucked the dew clean off the digits, then wriggled them to show what he’d done. You felt the urge to vomit.

“That came from— from— why are you eating it?!”

Joel grinned. Big.

You weren’t sure why, but he looked psyched to be alive in that moment, and not just because of the narcotics.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d pushed you flat on your back, hips pinned underneath his hands as he moved over your body. He didn’t even try for the gun.

“And here I was thinkin’ you were just fuckin’ with me,” he chuckled, palms sliding under your nightdress. When you felt the residuum of wetness from his spit and your slick stuck together on his fingers, you wanted to squeal.

But you didn’t. You tried propping yourself up on elbows until Joel was sliding your one and only article of clothing over your head, then beckoning you down on the bed in front of him. You watched his gaze flit down to your side.

“Still hurt?” he murmured, tracing over the bandage.

You shook your head no, though it did, a little. At the moment, it seemed the pain was the furthest thing from your mind as you saw Joel slide down your body and try to take up residence between your thighs—with his face planted right there. You kicked his shoulder in protest.

“Quit!” you cried, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“You quit,” Joel returned, yanking them back.

Then you felt you had no choice but to brandish the gun, taking the thing between two palms while you pointed it again—as if he needed the reminder.

“Fine. Why don’t you keep that thing aimed at my head while I give you some?” he muttered. The subsequent ‘See if I give a shit’ was silent.

“Give me some what?”

“Head.”

Head. You’d never heard something phrased that way. Joel’s head was down there, sure, practically grinning from ear to ear as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, but certainly he didn’t mean to do a thing as drastic and dirty as—

“JOEL!”

“Hm?” His voice was muffled by your thighs.

You tried to shy away, but he held you down.

“Joel, I— I pee out of there,” you hissed, “Why the fuck would you wanna put your mouth on that?”

As if your groans of disgust and vehement attempts to get away weren’t enough to deter him, you watched Joel’s tongue dart between his lips and down to yours. The sick fuck was actually licking your folds, tracing the tip across that warm, sticky place and moaning into your skin. Holding you tighter when you pleaded for him to stop. Then, with the hand that wasn’t prying your legs apart, he reached down and started stroking his cock.

Again, it felt dirty and wrong. Beyond the fact that this man was a perfect stranger and easily decades your senior, you were repulsed by the sight of his lips and his tongue and his spit mixing up in that messy, wet place you still didn’t quite understand yourself. You didn’t know much about your body, but it had never once occurred to you to be kissed down there. Joel was roaming every contour and crevice with his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he liked it.

“I hate it,” you whined, feebly.

You knew you could’ve easily blown the man’s brains out, but some small part of you was still plagued by curiosity. ‘Hate’ was just the first word that came to mind when you were faced with something that made you scared.

“It’s weird,” you tried again. This time pressing the gun to the top of his bobbing head while you grit your teeth, “And wrong.”

At that, Joel stopped.

His eyes flickered to yours, all glass-like and hooded.

“Why? Practically lickin’ ya clean here,” he said, starting to grin to himself as his words came slightly slurred, “There’s nothin’ wrong about this, sweet pea.”

You felt something flutter between you. He felt it, too.

“Like when I call ya that? ‘Sweet pea’?” he said, pausing to flick his tongue over the spot that had just stirred at his words. He watched you fight back a whimper.

“No,” you choked. You pinched your eyes shut, unsure whether it was pleasure or pure revulsion overtaking you—or both.

Suddenly, you felt Joel’s hand smooth over your thigh, still warm from when he’d been stroking himself below. He placed an affectionate kiss to your belly and grinned.

“Is that what this is? Feel guilty about feelin’ this good?” he murmured, “Think it’s…dirty, what we’re doin’?”

At length, and just barely visible to him, you nodded.

“It is dirty,” you corrected him quietly.

Then you saw that stupid pseudo-sympathetic smirk tug at the corners of his lips, and just when you thought he might nudge his way back up your body—to do what, you weren’t sure—he sank between your legs. This time, he made sure to hold your gaze as he re-assumed the position. His palm continued to rub at your thigh, as if to distract you from the rough brush of his stubble or the fact that his mouth was hovering so dangerously close.

“Sweet pea,” he rasped, “Ain’t nothin’ dirty about this.”

As if to punctuate his words, Joel dragged his lips down your slit to press a kiss to your centre, eyes never leaving yours.

“Not here…”

He pointed with his tongue, moving it deftly between your folds. You gripped the sheets, trying to ignore the pleasure that the simple act wrought through your body.

“Not here.”

He kissed your clit. You squeezed even tighter.

“Not on my tongue, on my fingers, anywhere, y’hear?”

You were about to answer—maybe tell him he was supremely full of shit, then flash the gun in his face—when Joel shifted onto his knees on the bed. He moved slowly and as calm as he ever had, motions languid while his mind was likely steeped in the morphine by now. He snagged one of your ankles. He slid his hand up the back of your calf and tugged you down to the edge of the bed. Then he stood up, right between your legs. The warmth radiating from his bare lower half was immediate, almost suffocating from where you lay. You didn’t like it at all.

You refused to meet his gaze, grip tightening on the gun.

“Joel…”

When that warmth at your front shifted inward, though, you hardly had a say in what your reflexes did or didn’t do. You jumped when you felt the head of his dick slip past your pulsing core, closer to the other hole below it.

“Not here, either,” Joel continued, grin still evident from his tone.

Before you could even think to ask what he meant to do ‘here,’ Joel moved one of your legs up, tilting your hips, and pushed ahead with just the tip of his cock. Not breaching it fully, but nudging—prodding at that hole.

For the first time, you let out a moan.

You hastily clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

“Aw, honey,” Joel murmured, “Did that feel good?”

His words reeked of condescension. You scowled at the ceiling.

“No.”

You felt him push a little further—this time making the head of his dick notch into that tight ring of muscles.

No, the word rang through your skull once more. Your curiosity was shortly supplanted by disgust—how the fuck could you let this creepy old man, this stranger, press into you like that? Talk to you like you were dumb? You seized hold of Joel’s pistol with both hands and aimed directly for his chest.

“Stop doing that,” you growled. When the man’s grip on your leg only tightened and you couldn’t writhe away, you lifted the other and tried kicking him in the gut. Of course, Joel caught your foot midair, and it never landed.

“Just givin’ ya options, darlin’,” he said, easy-going. Not seeming to care about the firearm pointed his way.

Fuck it.

You squeezed the trigger again.

Empty chamber.

If Joel flinched, you didn’t see it. He did, however, knock the gun right out of your hand the next second, sending it tumbling with an unceremonious thump on the bed behind you. You tried to leap back for it, but your arm was quickly pinned. Joel cocked one silver-flecked brow.

“You done?” he asked, almost bored.

Your last—and only—leverage taken away from you, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger. And desperation.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you cried, trying to squirm away.

Joel didn’t move his cock, but he did hold you still. Blinking with indifference and a fair bit of drug-induced dissociation, it seemed, from the far-away look in his eyes. He pushed both of your legs so they were folded up to your chest, and ignored your whimpers when he did. At length, he pulled out just enough to smear some of your wetness down to the hole he was trying to fuck.

“You want this,” he countered gently.

“I DON’T!”

Joel continued as though he hadn’t heard you, and moments later, you sensed another slick something pooling against you. From your position beneath him, you could see a bead of spit slip from Joel’s mouth and stretch into a thin, glistening string all the way down to the space between your thighs. You watched him rub the saliva in with his fingers, almost meticulous as he did it.

Then he eased his hips forward an inch, wedging himself back in your ass. He groaned when he felt resistance—and a sharp clench of your muscles.

“I can teach ya…show ya everything…there is to know.”

His words somehow made it out through ragged breaths. That broad, tan chest was heaving with every labored pull of his lungs, and you could tell he was feeling good.

You might’ve been able to say the same for yourself, were your mind not singly occupied by the desire to escape. Still at war with yourself, wondering how it would feel or what you might see that first time, all the while despising the man who seemed hell-bent on forcing it.

He might’ve saved your life, but there was no fucking way he’d get to use you like that and stay breathing.

You were raised better than that.

You could do better than anything this man had to offer.

You resolved to kill him as soon as the drugs knocked him out—just like you’d had planned from the second you woke up on the floor of his cabin that afternoon.

Of course being chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains for some well-meaning stranger to find you had always been part of your mother’s—and the rest of the Raiders’—grand plan. Having this stupid, horny sap take you into his home with the hope of claiming you as his own was just the icing on top.

Now you had a reason to kill Joel and steal all his shit.

At present, he fed another inch of himself inside you and grinned when you let out a startled cry.

“Atta girl,” he said, smirking, “Feelin’ okay?”

“Fuck you.”

“Will do.”

Then, as if to prove a point, he bottomed out, sheathing his cock to the hilt in spite of your cries. Your hands fisted the sheets, and you tried to pull off. It didn’t work.

In fact, all it accomplished was giving Joel more room to thrust back into you. And pull out. And shove back in. The snap of his hips was like cruel and excruciating clockwork, completely unhindered by your words or your gestures or your pleas to stop fucking doing that Joel, it fucking hurts! If anything, the sounds of your censure only got him harder, and with it, made it that much easier to fuck you rougher. His eyes shone with pride.

“What’s’at, sweet pea?” he hummed, strokes coming into a steady pace.

“It’s too…big…doesn’t fit,” you whimpered.

In response, Joel glanced down to see the spot where your bodies were joined. He pushed even deeper.

“Yeah?” he said when you yelped, “I think it fits just fine.”

Motherfucker, you wanted to wail, but then your neck craned sideways—your mouth trying to find purchase in anything you might grit between your teeth—and the only thing that escaped your throat was a sob. You tried burying your face in the comforter, only for Joel to yank it back.

Cupping your chin and pinching both your cheeks in a single, punishing squeeze as he continued to fuck you, “What’s the matter, darlin’? Too much?”

You groaned and clenched your jaw, head jerking away.

Per usual, Joel was undeterred. Even smiled.

“My pretty girl need somethin’a bite, huh?” he hummed.

He probably knew you wouldn’t nod, so he went ahead and decided to oblige that one need he saw anyway. Snagging your nightie, Joel raised a hand to your face and proceeded to push the fabric inside your mouth.

Just as he started to lift his hips to deliver another thrust, he had to stop. A sudden, sharp ‘FUCK!’ left his mouth, then a groan, and his hand retreated fast.

You’d bitten him.

You were grinning just a little, and you’d bitten him.

Joel promptly slapped you across the face. If you weren’t so fucking amused by the sight of his bright red fingers, you just might’ve winced. Instead, the smile stayed on your lips, the slap barely registered, and, to your utmost disbelief, something else had just then started to form.

Pleasure, in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuckin’—” Joel snarled.

“Shit,” you finished, eyes rolling back.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was rutting into you relentlessly. That brief hand bite detour had only stoked the flames of his hatred—and arousal—and now he was practically splitting you in half with the force of his thrusts. He slapped you once more for good measure.

“Oh, that you fuckin’ like?” he seethed, cheeks flushed, “Can’t get off with my…tongue on your cunt, but a slap— and my cock buried deep in your ass gets the job done?”

“Uh-huh,” you answered softly. Mindlessly.

Really, there were no two people more fucked up than you in this moment, you thought. Joel growing harder with each desperate objection of yours, you going all soft and hot and bothered the second he slapped your face and fucked you rougher, and together, the two of you letting out grunts and moans of pleasure while the bed shook like an earthquake just shy of a 9.5 on the Richter scale. Were you not already planning to slit the man’s throat after all of this was over, you just might’ve wanted to marry this Joel M for how wonderfully he fucked you.

You let him know as much when you seized his forearms.

Bouncing into his thrusts, you bit your lip and finally met his gaze. Joel’s eyes were trained in somewhat of a daze, pupils all but swallowing his irises as he fucked you.

“Like being daddy’s little cocksleeve, huh?”

Only the sentence was slurred so bad you could scarcely make out half the words. You nodded just the same.

“Like it when he fucks you in the ass?” Joel panted.

You nodded again.

That pleasure in your belly had worked its way up to a full swell—and whatever it was, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing it now. You gripped Joel’s arms even harder as his chest swayed into you, then sank further and further until your fronts were pressed flush to each other and your ankles were hooked tight around his back.

It almost felt intimate. That coarse, weathered, sweat-coated face spattered with patches of grey seemed to you nearly handsome as his lips hung limply in an ‘o.’

Joel’s cock dragged back and forth between your walls at this new, snug angle, and moans fell out of you both.

“Baby.” His voice was hoarse. Strained.

You couldn’t quite make sense of the expression above you, but there was an unmistakable, muted desperation lurking somewhere beneath it. Joel rutted into you quicker, balls leaving rapid smacks against your ass with every thrust. His hair was disheveled, and his hands were making fists in the sheets on either side of your head.

“Joel—”

“Jus’ lemme use you.”

Words so low they were barely audible as he panted.

“But—”

“Daddy’s…almost done, sweet pea. Just take it.”

You were surprised he’d had it within himself to be so soft. A peculiar sort of haze hung over his face, the pace of his hips picked up even more, and suddenly those plush pink lips were hovering a mere hair’s breadth away from yours. Mumbling. Rambling on and on about how wet you were, how perfect you fit him, how nice and sweet and tight your body felt as he fucked you stupid.

That sensation in your own stomach grew even stronger.

Unsure of what to do, you pressed a palm to his chest.

“Joel, I…I feel funny,” you whispered.

Joel hummed. Didn’t slow.

“I know.”

He knew?

“What’s it—ah, fuck.” Your words broke off in a whimper.

Instead of proffering a verbal response, Joel just slipped a touch between your bodies—thumbing sloppily between your folds to earn a couple more high-pitched moans. Your legs tightened around his middle.

“Joel, s-stop!”

It felt so good it almost hurt. He didn’t stop.

“S’just an orgasm, baby,” Joel panted, “You’re okay.”

And, in spite of his own impending climax and the effect of the drugs likely reaching a fever pitch inside him, Joel managed to slide his other hand beneath the back of your head. Cradled you to him while he fucked you into the bed and made you come unraveled with his touch. You tried to writhe away, but he was used to the drill by now—he just fucked you harder and rubbed you faster.

Whatever he wanted would come soon. You doubted there was anything you could do to stop it, but you tried.

Without thinking, you grabbed hold of the damp locks of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked on them hard.

“Joel, I can’t— I can’t,” you keened.

The hand at the back of your head held you firm.

“You can,” Joel returned, tough but surprisingly calm, “Give it to daddy, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”

What exactly ‘it’ was was still unclear. You just knew you felt good and warm and full—about ready to burst. When you felt tempted to give his hair another tug, Joel’s eyes met yours, and they were soft. Insistent, still, but soft.

Dilated as all hell and probably swimming in clouds of a delirious, bleary haze, but always soft. Almost tender.

“Be a good girl and give it to daddy,” Joel slurred, slow, “C’mon, sweet pea…cum for daddy, please.”

For the first time in that short, rough, utterly deranged time you had known this man, he was begging you. Pleading with you, now, as his body grew overwrought with pleasure and just needed release. You needed it, too, not even knowing how you would get it, but the force of his thrusts, the warmth of his body, the look in those warm, bare, powerless eyes—you fucking loved whatever it was that could make a man like that so weak.

You had to strike while the iron was hot. You slid back.

Joel didn’t notice, too focused on your face and the feel of your body to see when you’d reached for the gun.

Just as you took hold of it, a jolt of pleasure tore through you. Your heels dug into his back, and you nearly lost control of the pistol. Joel groaned in your mouth, begged you once again to cum all over this cock, make a fuckin’ mess of it, baby, please, and you could only whine, grip the metal tighter, and raise it slowly to the side of his head while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

The peak of your pleasure had come into view. You felt it.

You nudged the muzzle through those soft, slick, salt-and-pepper shaded tufts of hair near the edge of his temple right when the first throes of euphoria seized you.

“FUCK!”

You squeezed the trigger.

#NEED DARK!JOEL TO TAKE ME TO HIS PENTHOUSE AND FREAK ME IN WAYS UNIVERSALLY CONDEMNED BY POSTMODERN FEMINISM #IT'S SOOOOO BAD Y'ALL #this might be too niche but i hope at least one person enjoys LOL #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dark!joel

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lokidbadguy · 7 months

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STALKER CODED!

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beforeimdeceased · 16 days

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what if… toxic ellie but make her a subtop 😋

nsfw! ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

omg toxic!ellie getting caught doing some stupid fucking shit again. like cheating or breaking into your car or slashing your date’s tires or putting an airtag in your bag or something else equally fucking insane and you just have to grab her wrist and pull her to the side. furrowing your eyebrows, you shake your head. “ellie.”

and there’s so much conviction in the way you let those two syllables slip off your tongue. a desperately confused question, immediately followed by a sense of knowing. she was doing all of this for attention. she wanted to get under your skin.

“you frustrated or somethin’?” is not what she thought would come out of your pretty plump lips. the ones she’s had her eyes on since you’d dragged her outside against the wall. she looks at you, confusion ridden face.

“huh?”

“huh?” you mock, a small frustrated smile on your face. you shake your head. “you’re acting out. like you want something from me, is that it? do you want something from me?”

and now her sage colored eyes refuse to meet yours. she’s staring at the tip of her shoes, feeling pushed back by your response. how the fuck could you tell? was she making it obvious? you clear your throat, awaiting her answer, and she finds herself even more frustrated than before.

“i don’t want shit from you, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

but you do know what you’re talking about, because the second you looked around and reassured her that it was just the two of you up against that wall, she started whining about how much she misses your sweet cunt.

“you cut me off, but i need you. need to taste you again.”

you just roll your eyes at her. “so this is how you fucking ask?”

no. definitely no. and since she doesn’t know, she’ll have to work for it. she’s gonna start by tongue fucking you against this wall like the cunt dumb slut she is. hands gripping onto your thighs like her life depends on it. moaning into your pussy because you taste so good and you sound so pretty and that was all she wanted. to make you moan her name again.

#i took her to my penthouse #n i freaked it #bunnie can speak? ☆#— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —#ellie williams #・❥・ bun’s sweet ellie #ellie williams x reader #bun’s asks ꕤ #bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #sapphic writing #lesbian #wlw writing #ellie williams x you #ellie williams drabble #tlou fanfic

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munsonology · 1 year

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👀 Penthouse!eddie, 18+, fem reader

Was inspired by reading @niceboyeds fucking in front of the window post and wrote this real quick

Idk what jobs they have yet but I’m leaning rockstar!eddie

You and Eddie live across the street from each other in high rise apartments and late one night after weeks of teasing each other, the two of you both masturbate for each other in the window.

He jerks his cock faster, playing with the angry red tip of his head watching you squirm as your hands free vibrator fucks you, playing with the tip how he wants you too.

He watches you squirt, soaking your window in cum, dripping down the glass like a rain storm

With his dick still hard, he crawls to the window and licks like glass wishing it was your cum he was tasting

The next morning, your doorman alerts you to a package that was delivered earlier in the morning.

You open the beautifully wrapped box in your car, careful to not rip the bow. The darkness of the parking garage hiding your excitement. Sitting inside on delicate paper are the pair of panties you sent Eddie last week. The lace scraps are covered in cum, probably multiple days worth. You start to get wet at the smell. Knowing the lace was wrapped around his cock just hours before made you want to cream your panties right now.

You find a small white card sitting in the box. In Eddie’s handwriting is a message

Next time I’ll cum down your throat

Your hands quickly unbutton your blouse and pull your bra down, freeing your tits to the cool air of the car. Your nipples are hard, begging to be licked and sucked by their crush.

You mewl, squeezing your thighs to alleviate your throbbing clit. The sensation is so sweet, you rock your hips in the seat. Lifting your skirt and sliding your panties to the side you hump your cunt on the edge. Your fingers open your pussy lips to feel your clit on the leather, the curls around your cunt tickling your button.

You feel a small trickle of cum leak on the seat and you shiver as a tiny orgasm rolls through your body. Clenching your thighs together you lean back in the seat. You rub your hand over your hairy mound. “You’ll be filled soon enough girl.”

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iwendix · 1 month

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PENTHOUSE

Cheon Seojin:

coming soon...

Shim Suryeon:

coming soon...

Oh Yoonhee:

coming soon...

Joo Seokkyung:

coming soon...

Ha Eunbyeol:

coming soon...

#penthouse war in life #penthouse x reader #wlw #character x reader #masterlist

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curi0us-gh0st · 7 months

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Mama's Girl (Shim Suryeon)

pairings: Shim Suryeon x Fem!Reader, Min Seol Ah x Fem!Reader (platonic)

word count: ± 3 k

genre: angst.

summary: The pain and emptiness that his sweet little girl left behind was filled with anger and a desire for revenge, but perhaps an old flame will come back to him again.

warnings: reader being a single mother, suffering, tragedy, mention of death, bullying, pain, abandonment, revenge, anger, etc. [no review]

a/n: I never watched The Penthouse, but honestly, I identify with Min Seol Ah and I just felt Shim Suryeon's pain. Prepare the tissues :( (the cover is mine, made for Spirit)

Sweet girl; 1 / 2

Min Seol Ah's life was never easy for her, in addition to the bullying she suffered at school, the difficulties she faced during long periods of work she did, even since she was born, it was never made easier for her.

She grew up just being her and her mother, the strongest woman she had ever met in her life, she always worked to give all the best to Seol Ah, she always thought about her dear daughter, giving her all. Of course, in the first months of having the little girl it was complicated, there was no one to help her and with financial problems, she did not fully complete her recovery and was able to work to buy food and the things that the newborn needed. Seol Ah was always a sweet baby, she barely cried, always so behaved as if she understood what she was going through at the moment, accompanying her mother at work until she could start studying.

Her own mother's anxious heart pounded in her chest when she saw little Min bouncing to a seat in the classroom, so excited and radiant. She didn't stop a few tears from sliding down her cheeks, proudly, before leaving for a new job she had gotten at a restaurant cleaning dishes. During this period she was always late because of the many piles of dirty dishes, still wearing her apron when she ran to the teacher holding her little girl's hand with a sad look. Listening and apologizing to the teacher for her tardiness, the walk to the station was silent until she found the courage to ask how her day at school was and a simple "good" was heard.

She logically shook her mother's heart deeply, but when she suggested that she would reward her next time and Seol Ah's smile was seen, her heart felt lighter. As an apology, taking her to eat strawberry ice cream, which was her favorite, making fun of her to laugh, they played in the park until they got tired. In the end, holding the little girl on his lap as he carried her home so as not to wake up from her sleep, seeing his daughter like that, thinking that he would be capable of anything for her, he would do anything just to see the beautiful smile on her angelic face .

It didn't take long for your little girl to grow up and become a kind and charismatic young woman, never losing the essence she had. You were proud of the girl she had become, hardworking, studious and hopeful — even though you thought it could cause future problems, that was Min Seol Ah's selfless heart.

However, her shifts began to increase in the new job she had gotten, working all day, day after day, always arriving home in the early hours of the morning and seeing her little girl already asleep. A smile always appeared on her face as she watched her rest, a relief settled in her chest, feeling an unusual happiness and peace. On the days when she was off, looking for anything to be close to her daughter, asking her to eat ice cream or go for a walk, but she wasn't a child anymore, so she started denying it, saying there was schoolwork.

One unusual day, she arrived to say that she had gotten a job in a market, which surprised her, quickly denying the girl and saying that she didn't want it and asking her the reason for it. She replied that she would like to help around the house so you don't have to spend so many extra hours at work, making things easier for you. Sighing in defeat when the Min girl appeared not to give up on such an act.

What you didn't know was that Seol Ah felt like dead weight, seeing you work every day and her just studying, she thought she needed to do something, she didn't care about school until she got a job at a market after school. school. That day, she came bouncing back home, happy and relieved to finally be able to help around the house.

Min Seol Ah never complained about things, she always accepted situations and tried to find solutions like her math homework. The only problem she didn't know how to solve were the mean young people who had been bothering her since God knows when. School materials were ruined, as well as clothes, snacks thrown on the floor or in the trash, the climax was when she was beaten by the group and returned home with a bruised face and wet clothes.

She sobbed as she leaned against the doorway, leaving her bag on the floor and taking off her shoes, walking to the bathroom. Cleaning the wounds and applying medicine to them, she lay down that night, weak and crying, only stopping when she heard the noise from the entrance, warning her that her mother had arrived, she held back her tears, covering her mouth with her hand, listening to her footsteps.

"Seol Ah, are you lying down yet?" Her voice sounded delicately, without response. "You must be tired, it's okay… Omma brought food for tomorrow." She spoke again, the sounds of the food package, you letting go of the girl as you focused on not making noise to wake her, meanwhile, hot tears rolled down the girl's cheeks, deeply saddened. She didn't want to worry her mother any more than she was already going through with the stress of work.

Seol Ah slept after crying so much, the next morning, she woke up without strength, she thought, she thought hard to find some way to escape what was happening, she didn't want to ask her mother for help, she was so busy, her intrusive thoughts causing confusion in her In the end, she decided to leave the market and settle in the area she wanted. With her good grades and excellent performance in her subjects, she decided to spread her numbers to become a teacher during free periods, so she did.

On the first day after class, she visited the home of a family that was just mother and son, the son was having problems in physics, she spent long afternoons for four months to help him, in the end, he got an 'A' and promised to continue studying.

She was doing well teaching elementary school students to help them with subjects they weren't doing well in, until her cell phone rang for a new opportunity. It was for two young people Min's age, the money was good, so good that it could help her and her mother move. She accepted, got the address and waited anxiously for the second one, where she would start.

Min got ready, put on a sweater that you had sewn, little figures that she had chosen and gave it to her as a gift. She put her backpack on her back and went in search of the address, she almost never walked through the upscale neighborhood she was in, she walked behind the house where everything pointed to the large building, which not even her eyes could tell how many meters or floors it had.

She went to the building's reception, everything was so chic and organized, asking the girl who was there.

"Who are you after?"

"Let me remind you. Shim Suryeon?" Min said hesitantly.

"Mrs. Shim? One moment." She picked up the phone and called someone, after a while she sent the girl up to the penthouse.

The employee called a security guard for Min, who took her to Shim's office.

“Good afternoon, you must be Min Seol Ah, right?” The woman stood up from her seat with a gentle smile.

"Good afternoon, yes, it's me." Seol Ah greeted. "Where are the students? Are they your children?"

"Ah, they're waiting in the study room. And yes, they are. The guard can take you there, I have to go out to run some errands, have a great day."

The woman left without saying much and then he did as asked, he took her to the room to meet who you should instruct. But when she arrived, her body froze, her body radiated fear and hesitation, no, it couldn't be.

"Look who our teacher is!" The girl got up from her chair and walked over to Min. "What's that on your clothes, huh?" She pulled one of the stickers from her sweater, her tone full of disdain and arrogance, the others in the room just staring. "It will be good our time together here." Joo Seok Kyung smiled devilishly.

No, it was not. It wasn't good, it was horrible. It was worse than any nightmare, it was terrible, humiliating and stressful. The only time that was peaceful was when her parents were around, but the girl needed the money to be given, she put up with more than she should have. But she felt uncomfortable, there was something in that place, in fact, in that person that made her curious, Shim Suryeon. Who was she? Did she know her? Why was she so kind?

"Look what my little girl brought!" You smiled widely at Seol Ah. "You didn't have to, jagiya." He helped her with the plates of food.

"Of course I needed it, you're very busy and this new job of mine is paying me a good amount, we can even move house." The girl said, making her mother look.

“Min Seol Ah, since when did you become so mature like this?” Her voice sounded thin and tearful as she grabbed the girl's cheeks.

"Omma!" Seol Ah laughed trying to move away. "Let's eat soon!"

"Okay, my beautiful mature little girl! I'm so proud of you." She gave Min a smile.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

Maybe when everything is close to the end, are there signs? Is there a way to prevent such dark events in our lives? Is there a way to change the past?

"Come on my love, tell me where you are. You left some things behind, I came to bring them." He said on the phone.

"Shouldn't you be at work, omma?" The girl countered.

"I'm going to my new job in a few hours. I was going to tell you when I got home, but focus! Tell me, I'm in the city center."

After seeing the address, walking a few blocks, her heart pounded in her chest, it hurt.

"It can not be." You said as you looked at the large building.

You didn't believe your daughter worked at this place, no, no. He went to the entrance to talk to the secretary who said that Seol Ah was on his way, she waited. Her heart sank, anxiety and apprehension took over her, why?

"Y/N. Min Y/N?" The voice echoed through her ears, so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, her eyes lifting to see the woman's.

"Shim Suryeon." You stood up, letting out a sigh. "How long." Shim swallowed, approaching.

"What are you doing here?" She soon asked, her eyes confused, strange with memories.

"Omma!" Before she could respond, Seol Ah appeared, walking over to her and hugging her. "Oh- Lady Shim." She complimented her.

"Omma?" Suryeon repeated.

"Do you know each other?" Seol Ah asked curiously, looking between you and Suryeon.

"What? No, no. This lady just got confused." You said taking her away from Shim.

Of course you tried to get Min to quit that job, you literally tried everything, but she said she needed it, she was earning a lot and that she was helping you. You assured them they didn't need that money and the girl said she would leave. She didn't leave.

After the announcement that she got the last place at school, she spread throughout the luxurious corridors of the Palace, the days became more difficult and complicated. Everyone was against the idea of a simple poor girl getting a place in one of the best schools in Korea, which outraged the rich stingy people.

With several requests for her to give up her place so that the daughter or friend of one of them could get in. Min Seol Ah denied it, she studied too hard to get this damn scholarship, to pay all the costs to enter, she wouldn't give up that easily, her future depended on it.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

"Hi, omma, are you busy?" Seol Ah's voice asked on the other end of the line, a sniffle was heard.

"Hello darling, no." He answered simply. "I just got off work. Did something happen?" Worry flooded her.

"Eh… Could you pick me up? There were some problems and I want to leave. Please…" Another sniffle, the heart sank.

"Are you okay, Seol Ah? Are you crying?" She asked worried about the girl.

"I… No, just… Please come take me home." It didn't take long for you to respond, turning off your cell phone and running to the building that was blocks away.

His heart was racing, his breathing was rapid and labored, his legs ached and his eyes began to burn trying to hold back the tears. You stopped in front of the entrance, took another breath to continue until you reached your daughter, before the first floor of the building, the loud noise of glass, your reflection making you protect your face with your hands.

His world stopped for a moment, trying to control his breathing and gather the courage to see what had happened, his head slowly slipping away, his blurred vision focusing on the statue painted in blood in front of him, his body instinctively getting up and taking small steps towards the fountain, his eyes crying seeing what had happened, his heart aching.

That night, his world ended, his life ended, after seeing his daughter's body being held by that angel, her little lifeless body, covered in bruises, bloody, a pain settled in his chest, as if someone had taken away his heart, feeling a huge emptiness in his chest. The screams and tears rolling from her being, as paramedics and firefighters removed Min Seol Ah's body; Seeing her in that state, hurt, her face wet with tears and blood, you would never see her smile again, your sweet little girl would no longer be there when you came home from work with a special gift for her, the doctors had to sedate her after the attempt by you to attack any of the people present in the building, those damned greedy rich people saying they would give millions to repair the broken facade.

After waking up in the hospital, the nurse informed him about his daughter's body, where it should be taken to be laid to rest, the only thing he said, coldly, ignoring the nurse and whether he could see her, he agreed and took her to the hospital. morgue. The cold room, the smell of death and pain, another boy opened one of the drawers, revealing the covered body and folded the cloth, revealing the image of his beautiful daughter with closed eyes, purple lips, clean bruises, it even looked like she was asleep, a sleep from which she could never wake, ever again.

The pain hurting you, like a blow to the head, making you cry and shake over your daughter's body, wanting to bury your head in her neck and smell her, her heat, which could never be felt again, while the two boys trying to push you away as a precaution, you fell to your knees on the cold floor as tears wet your face as you screamed: "my daughter, my sweet little daughter!".

The next day, her eyes were red and swollen from crying, after the hospital released her body, arranging a room for her to be buried, you brought her best dress and her favorite flowers. You tidied the room, leaving nothing out of place, you put on the dress, arranged the flowers around and inside the coffin, stopped to see your little girl's body, you smiling at how beautiful she looked, your mind woke up to something that had happened. left in the reserved room, walking to get it, when you came back, you saw the person you feared and hated most in your life, why was she there? Putting lipstick on your daughter?

"Why are you here?" The woman who turned around with a smile fell apart when she saw his cold and hurt expression.

“Y/N, I-”

"Shut up!" You stamped your feet, why did she have to come here? "I don't want you to say that, again!"

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening a new rain of them, her heart ached, feeling the pain and hatred inside it.

"I saw her when she…" She paused, trying to see a way to be less painful. "To fall…" A sigh left her lips.

"Shim Suryeon, I wish you never came into her life!" You spat out the words, they had been stored for so long...

"But… I'm her mother too!" She replied, nervously. How could she have the courage to say that anymore?

“You left that title when you preferred this family and abandoned Min Seol Ah.” She looked into his eyes with hatred. "And look what happened, this is all your fault!"

Her scream made Suryeon's heart tighten, she had to agree with you, she shouldn't have come back.

"Why did you do that? Why did you hire her? Did you feel sorry for her? How she was 'fine' to have a good life with the large amount you were giving her, why didn't you have the courage to say what did years ago?" You started to let everything out, your pain, your suffering, your anger, your hatred towards Shim. "You didn't even treat her like a daughter, or protect her… Where were you when she got sick? Where were you when she spent her nights studying? Where were you when she fell?" Her voice trailed off. "Where were you when you left me alone in that hospital without saying anything?"

Suryeon wasn't much different from you, her cheeks wet with tears, the sad and guilty expression that took over her body, she felt your pain and understood what you were feeling, she just didn't know how to help you.

"Y/N…" The woman's low and trembling voice sounded, making your eyes focus on her, she closed the distance between you and hugged you.

Arms wrapped around your body, your tears falling like an endless waterfall, as you heard Shim Suryeon's sobs, feeling your shirt form a puddle of tears, your weak legs, giving way, making you fall to the floor, she held you tightly as she felt your arms scratching his covered back, his pain trying to get out. Shim Suryeon, put aside his life, forgetting about his meetings, just to spend the day silently helping you with the wake of Min Seol Ah, your sweet girl.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

"Hey, I need you to control yourself." Her soft voice sounded not far from where she was. "I know what you're feeling right now, Y/N... The anger, the pain and the hate in your chest, I know you want revenge, you want to see them pay for it. But, it's not worth it. You know. This won't make Min Seol Ah come back, much less make her pain go away... I'll let them go, please, darling..."

#👻 gh0st fic !#angst #kdrama #kdrama fic #the penthouse #penthouse #shim suryeon #shim suryeon x reader #min seol ah #min seol ah x reader

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