Last Seen Blogs
cosmica-candy
#1 Sozo fan
earl-mavrick-blog-blog
LABELS are HARD..
stitcherstims
A Box of Wondrous Secrets
trraannss
トランス
asiangirlsinsweaters
Asian Girls in Sweaters
Text
Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
#tommy#tommy x reader#dark!dean#dark!dean x reader#dean#supernatural#dark fanfiction#dark!joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader#dark!joel
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
You guyssss, I might be obsessed
1 note
·
View note
Text
Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader#mean!joel#dark fic#tommy miller x reader#fanfic#dean winchester#tommy miller#dark!dean#dark!dean x reader
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
Godless
moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes
western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist
My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark
Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.
word count: ~5.6k
DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n
A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH
-
You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.
The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.
Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.
-
You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.
Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.
The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.
This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.
-
You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.
“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.
You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.
She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.
“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.
You nodded,
“Yeah.” You sniffled.
“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.
“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.”
You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.
No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.
-
Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.
You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.
You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.
Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.
Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.
Joel Miller.
You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.
You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.
You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.
After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.
You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.
You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.
You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.
Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"
You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.
"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.
Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.
"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."
Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.
Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.
You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.
You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.
"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."
He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.
You started to feel sick.
"Give you this for her." He said casually.
A spike of fear bolted through you.
"W-what?"
Your pimp sighed and turned to you,
"Go get y'things honey."
"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."
You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.
"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.
You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.
-
You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.
You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.
You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.
You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.
You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,
“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.
Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.
“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.
“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”
You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.
Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.
“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”
You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.
“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.
It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.
“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”
Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,
“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.
“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.
Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.
She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.
“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”
You hiccuped and shook your head,
“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.
“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin’ testing me!”
Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.
You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post.
“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,
“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.
Joel smiled at the man coldly,
“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.
“M-my whore.” The man warbled.
Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.
“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.
Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.
“Get me the rope, John.”
The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.
“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.
You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.
“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.
“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.
Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.
“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.
Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.
You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.
You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.
Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.
-
As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.
You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.
You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.
You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.
You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.
You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.
You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?
"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.
"Go on."
You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.
"Thank you." You said softly.
Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.
“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.
“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.
Joel shook his head after a moment.
“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”
You smiled a little bit at that last part.
“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”
“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.
-
The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.
His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.
After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.
You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.
You didn't know what to expect from him.
You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.
His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.
He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.
"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.
You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.
After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.
He was so close to you now, right in front of you.
"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became.
You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.
He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.
"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."
You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.
"Yes sir." You said quickly.
He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.
"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."
You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.
But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.
You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,
"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.
Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.
"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."
With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.
You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.
The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.
It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.
It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.
Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.
The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.
When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.
He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.
-
After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.
You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.
You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.
You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in.
He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.
You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.
You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.
Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.
You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.
Compliant little thing.
He suddenly got an idea.
-
You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.
You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.
“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.
“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.
The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.
“I-what?”
“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”
His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.
You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.
You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.
You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.
"Knew you were a good girl."
He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.
You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?
He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.
You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,
"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."
You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.
"Go get on the bed for me."
"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.
Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,
"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"
-
He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.
Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.
"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.
He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.
Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.
"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."
You nodded quickly.
"Say it."
"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."
"Thas' right."
His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.
"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.
"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."
He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.
You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.
After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.
"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.
He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.
He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.
Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.
You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.
"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"
"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.
"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"
You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.
Oh fuck.
You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.
His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.
You sighed, contentedly.
Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.
You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.
He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.
He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.
You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.
"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.
You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.
You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.
He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.
He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.
"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.
You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.
Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.
Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.
But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.
He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.
"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."
You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.
He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.
You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.
"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.
He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.
You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.
He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.
You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.
He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,
"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.
His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.
He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."
"Yes sir." You said softly.
He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.
He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.
You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest.
You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.
You hated that you were even thinking that.
His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.
-
THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU
This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤
YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎
349 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is how I imagine Tommy and Joel fucking whoever 💗🫡
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
I really enjoyed reading it!! Can’t wait for part 2
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
summary: hitchhikingis especially dangerous during the outbreak.
chapter warnings:18+ only. mdni. dark!joel miller x rescued fem!reader x dark!tommy miller. dubcon → noncon. set a few years after the outbreak and before they meet tess. mention of dead bodies and guns. no beta.
word count: 1414
author’s note: I just want to be their plaything ☺️ this part is pretty tame fyi but the following chapters will be intense.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
No one dies from love
Guess I’ll be the first
Will you remember us?
Or are the memories too stained with blood now?
You curse your car as it breaks down halfway to your destination. A town on the outskirts of the state that supposedly was a safe haven. As smoke billows from the hood, you sling on your backpack and head out on foot.
The scenery was the same mile after mile. Carnage mixed with bountiful greenery. Burnt, dismantled bodies no longer empty vessels as flowers and weeds filled the cavities.
Weiterlesen
519 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you! 💗💗 I felt so bad giving her all the trauma I could think of 😂
Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
#dark!joel miller#joel miller#joel x reader#tlou#dark!joel#dark!joel x reader#mean!joel#the last of us#fanfic#dark fic#dean#dean winchester#supernatural#dark fiction
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.���, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
#tommy x reader#tommy#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel x reader#tlou#the last of us#dark!tommy miller#dark!joel miller x reader#dark!tommy#dark!joel#dark fanfiction
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
#tommy x reader#tommy#dark!tommy miller#dark!joel miller x reader#dark!tommy#dark!dean x reader#dark fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#tommy miller x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel tlou
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m writing on a Dark!Dean Winchester x Reader fic rn and thus gonna be the vibe of it
#Dean#dean winchester#sam winchester#dark!dean x reader#dark!dean#demon!dean#supernatural#Jonny#john winchester
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dark Fiction Masterlist—by weirdfangirly
༺♡༻
All my works are 18+
Dark!Joel & Tommy fics:
༺♡༻ No Pure Blood (finished, no part2)
༺♡༻Fatherless (One shot)
༺♡༻ Little Red Light (new)
Dark!Dean Winchester fics:
Coming soon
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Next fic gonna be about dark!dean 💋😍🫡
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
#dark!joel miller#joel miller#joel x reader#tlou#dark!joel#dark!joel x reader#mean!joel#the last of us#fanfic#dark fic#dark fiction#joel miller smut#dean winchester#Tommy#tommy miller#tommy miller x reader#Tommy x reader#dark!tommy miller#dark!tommy#joel#joel miller x female reader#smut
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
Update
The dark!Joel and dark!Tommy fic is readyyy! When shall I post? 🫡
When I’m home I’ll proofread and post ig
#dark!joel miller#joel miller#joel x reader#tlou#dark!joel#dark!joel x reader#mean!joel#the last of us#fanfic#dark fic
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Update
I know y’all are probably fed up with me because I’m an unreliable narrator when it comes to promising new dark!Joel fics, but this time is diff. The fic is coming together very well.
Anyways, just a quick little update xoxo
5 notes
·
View notes