#it let it to get to an overwhelming number and now will put it off as a means to cope <3< /div>
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you know the tough thing about fostering a litter of 9 from birth, knowing you plan to keep one, is how hard it is to actually pick one
#I might. I might have changed my mind#I get attached very easily (see: my cat was a bottle baby foster)#and overwhelm myself trying to figure out who I feel the strongest connection to#but I’d also said at the beginning of this that I wanted a girl. no huge reason. I grew up with mostly girl dogs#but there’s one boy puppy that’s really just been doin a number on me as he’s gotten older#and developed more personality#anyway#I’m going to hold off on an actual puppy reveal until we start putting these guys up for adoption#just to give myself more time to be certain#and once I feel certain in my heart of hearts I won’t have any trouble letting the rest go to good homes#I just need to be patient with myself with these things#sorry most of my posts have been the puppies lately fkenxksnzkzk my life is pretty much consumed by them right now
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ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ꜱᴛᴀʏ
[ᴅᴀᴇ ʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
Summary: After the Mingle game, your friends win the vote and get to go home. You reunite with Dae-Ho on the outside and finally get to go on that date.
Warnings: Eventual smut, friends to lovers speedrun, fem reader, switch! Dae-Ho, handjobs, mutual blowjobs, fingering, p in v, safe sex, I don’t know what happens to them right after they vote to leave. Only what happens after,
Word Count: 3,769 words
You couldn’t believe it, was it too good to be true? 51 votes for X, 49 votes for O. Everyone around you on your side cheered, wept with joy and relief. The nightmare was over. And you wouldn’t go home empty handed either. 300 million was enough for you to clear your debt, finally start over.
And maybe, not alone.
You feel arms wrap around you tightly, shaking you like a Ragdoll. It was Dae-Ho. The two of you had formed a bond since being in here. The friendship was instant. His bright and bubbly personality pulling you in like a moth to a flame. Only, there was no pain. He looked out for you every step of the way. You were inseparable. The two of you even arranging a date of sorts once on the outside. You remember how he asked too, the boy was nervous, prepared to laugh the idea off painfully if rejected.
In disbelief, you slowly wrap your arms back around the man. Everything fell silent to your ears. Dae-Ho screams out with joy alongside his mentor, Jung-Bae, before looking at you again. He had the brightest of grins on his face. He cupped the sides of your face briefly, so happy, he could kiss you.
Could.
He lets go of your face after tenderly gazing into your eyes. You step forward and tightly hug him close, finally allowing everything to process. You were going home. You were safe.
Dae-Ho’s also overwhelmed with emotion, embracing you close. His hand gently pets the back of your hair, pressing his head against it. His heart was soaring with relief, and care, knowing you’d be okay.
“We did it…”
He murmured. You’re barely able to hear him through the cheers. “Yeah… we’re going home.” You chuckle weakly.
But the world wouldn’t grant you a moment of peace, no, not for a second.
“Please line up, you will be escorted out in an orderly fashion the same way you were brought in.”
It all came crashing down. You were leaving, now. You and Dae-Ho break apart quick at the realization. Guards were already pouring in. There’s so much you wanted to say, goodbyes you had to give! Team O did something helpful for once though, they bought you time as they started to argue against this.
“W-we’re leaving now…?!”
You see more guards taking control of the situation. People were being separated. You look to Dae-Ho, who was just as unsure and panicked. But then he visibly lightens up with realization.
“The korean barbecue place I told you about! Meet me there in two days! Noon!”
He tried to reach out to you, but the crowd began to push. You felt your anxiety beginning to slow at his request. You didn’t have his phone number, or his address, hell, you didn’t even know what area he lived in, but that was a start. You nod vigorously.
“O-Okay! I’ll see you there!”
A relived smile befalls Dae-Ho, knowing he at least got that out before he’s ushered away.
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Two days passed, and you were at the place to be. It was a tough, settling back. You swore you’d never see the light of day again. Waking up on a cold street while half naked wasn’t exactly a pleasurable experience. Neither was choking out a card in your mouth, but alas. But you got your shit sorted, and now you were here.
Only issue now was, you didn’t know what time to arrive! You wanted to play it safe and meet a little early, wearing your best. You didn’t exactly know how much effort to put into this. What do you wear to something like this? Was it a date? Or a meetup with a crush? Or, a meet with just a friend?
You wait, and wait. An hour passed, then two.
You looked like a madman from how much you kept looking about.
But then it hit you.
What if he doesn’t show?
What if he didnt feel the same?
What were you thinking? That a man you knew for three days would have such strong feelings for you? Maybe you got your hopes up. Maybe he was too busy for you. You frown to yourself, your breathing getting faster. From where you sat, you hugged yourself. You were a miserable sight.
But then, like an angel’s choir, you hear,
“(Y,n)!”
It was slightly distant. Your head snapped up at the all too familiar voice. Making their way through the bustling crowd, was Dae-Ho. His hair wasn’t tied in his usual top knot, but down, letting the fluff bounce freely. The once unforgiving sunlight was now shining on the man like a star, only making him glow. He maneuvers his way through the mass and pops out holding a bouquet of ruby red roses. He pants, standing in front of you with that nervous smile of his.
“I-I’m so sorry, were you waiting long? There’s two different ones here. The one I went to was all the way across— a-and I waited and waited before I realized you were probably here! And—“
You’re unable to stay away any longer. You stand up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close. Dae/Ho stops his rambles, instead, tucking an arm around your waist and holding you close, his other arm holding the flowers. “A-are you okay?” He asks with concern. You smile ear to ear, chuckling.
“I’m just really happy to see you, Dae-Ho.”
Your response made the boy sigh in relief, happy he didn’t upset you.
“I am too, really. I couldn’t get you off my mind.”
You’d pull away, still smiling joyously. Finally, you address the flowers in his hands. “Oh my gosh…!” You take them, giddy as a kid on their birthday. Dae-Ho smiles brightly at your enjoyment.
“I hope they’re not damaged or anything… I kinda sprinted everywhere to make it here.”
He confesses. You don’t notice a single flaw, but you also don’t care to notice. “I love them.” You solidify your appreciation. Dae-Ho looks up at the restaurant sign and back to you, licking his lips a moment. “You ready to go inside?” He sticks his hand out for you to take. Your heart felt full, and you take his hand. Butterflies fluttering along in your stomach.
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The day didn’t end there. Dae-Ho took you out to see all the sights there were to see in his town. The two of you hand in hand, throughout the day, you didn’t drop your roses. From checking out different shops, interacting with street performers, and getting some sweet treats. Life hasn’t been so terrible since you both no longer had terrible debts to worry about. Even if it was blood money, and came with such terrible trauma, at least you wouldn’t have to go through it alone. You had someone to lean on through it.
Now, you two ended up at one of the hotels. You were sitting outside on one of the fountains, scrolling through your phone with laughter. “Aww, this one’s cute!” The two of you were admiring photos of today. You had taken a special liking to the man giving a cute peace sign over some deserts. Dae-Ho huffs, but couldn’t get his grin off his face.
“You don’t think I look dorky? I can take a more manly photo for you if you want.”
To prove his point, he’d flex his arm muscle. You giggle, patting his shoulder before you simply rest your hand there.
“I think you look perfect.”
Something about the way you said it, made Dae-Ho gulp subtly. His dark eyes gazing at you with awe. To calm his quick beating heart, he deflects off of him.
“I… wanna do this again, sometime.”
The ball was now in your court. Your heart skipped a beat. You look down a little bashfully.
“Y’know, I was kinda afraid for a while you didn’t… Y’know… That maybe it was just the heat of the moment from the games.”
Dae-Ho’s eyes widen. He lets out a dry chuckle, casting his eyes away. “Time went by differently for me there, I think. It honestly felt like I was there with you for a lot longer than it actually was.” He says truthfully. His exterior that was once shining, was now shy. You don’t say anything, allowing him to continue.
“Every second I spent with you, is all I wanted to do with my time.”
He looks back to you, his words carried a weight heavier than any boulder. You bring your hands to your lap, setting the roses aside. A crooked smile forms on your face as you shyly glance at your thighs.
“Well, it’s good to know I’m not crazy then… because I felt the same.”
When you look back to Dae-Ho, you see him gazing with an expression you’re unable to pinpoint. A mixture of adoration, and yearing. His pupils dart toward your lips, and then back to your eyes. He gulps again, unable to meet them for long. But you got the hint. You purse your lips, and gently cup his face. It regains his attention immediately. He’s close, you can feel the heat from his skin, his breath on your hand. He looks at your lips again, and leans in. You meet him halfway, and the two of you share a loving kiss. His lips molded with yours almost perfectly, like that’s where they were meant to be.
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┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .
┊ ┊ ⋆˚
✧. ┊
⋆ ★
The next thing either of you knew, you’re trading kisses as Dae-Ho tries unlocking the door to his apartment complex. Your kissing was passionate, forward. All of your want and need was transferred which each tongue exchange.
As soon as you’re both inside, the man shuts the door and you press him against it, not breaking the kiss for a sweat. He moans softly against your lips, his tone urging his desire forward. Your kiss grew sloppier, but consistent as you run your hasty hands under his shirt. Feeling his toned stomach, you press your body against him further. You drew another moan out of Dae-Ho, the male gasping and breaking the kiss so he could say,
“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t e-expecting company so…ngh…”
You were barely listening, leaving pecks down his neck. Little nips to his skin lead to full love bites. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since I watched you play gongi…” You leave a trail of hickeys on his once clean neck. Dae-Ho brings his finger to his lips, biting down to muffle his whimpers. “W-what do you mean?” He gasps as you release his skin with a ‘pop.’ You meet his eyes, lust shadowing yours.
“‘Wanted to feel those hands on me.”
You take his hands and place them on your hips. He meets your mouth again, his tongue intertwining with yours in a messy dance. His hands run up your sides and then down to your ass, finally finding a resting point to the back of your thighs. “Fuck…”
For once the male was happy to live in a studio. You push him onto the bed, letting him scramble to take off his shirt. You slowly slide down to the ground on your knees. He gazes at you with such kindness and appreciation. He wanted you to feel it, somehow. There was a sea of emotion he was withholding, but you saw lust was the strongest in the waves.
“(Y,n)…”
You look up to him with doe eyes, sending rushes of hunger through him. “Can I…?”
His breathing was uneven, trembling, he nods.
“P-please…” He pulls his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free. He was already half hard, and it only grew as you close your hand around it. You admire its length, its width, and most of all, you feel the way it throbbed for you as it grew in your hand. You gave it a few test pumps, making your man bite his lip to stifle a whimper. Once he was fully hardened, you sped up your pace. Dae-Ho whines out, ever the vocal one. But it’s not like you minded, in fact, you encouraged it.
“You’re being so good for me, Dae-Ho…”
Hearing your praise, the male lets out another moan, his eyes closing. You feel his member twitch in your hand. “Oh? You liked that didn’t you? Wanna be called a good boy?” As soon as the words left your mouth, Dae-Ho moans loudly. He looks down at you with half lidded eyes.
“Oh shit…”
You lower your mouth over his throbbing member, keeping your touch ever so soft. The man leans back, looking to the ceiling. “Oh fuck…!” He grips the bedsheets beside him. For a brief moment, he nearly grabs your hair, but he stops himself. Instead, he gently runs his fingers through your hair. The way he held back to be a gentleman, it only made you wetter. You use one hand to pump his base while you sucked on the rest. Your other hand slid down under your bottoms, rubbing your already wet cunt. When Dae-Ho notices, his face somehow flushes more. “A-are you…?” To answer, you hum an eager note on his cock, sending vibrations down it.
“Fuck~! Ah…I—“ He’s unable to really keep his train of thought on track as another low groan rumbles through him. “Oh my God—“ He just mindlessly babbled on as you took him deeper. He’d involuntarily jerk his hips upward, and you felt the tip reach the back of your throat. Your gag made Dae-Ho immediately check in, concerned. “I-I’m sorry! Are you— fuck!”
But you didn’t care much, speeding up your motions. You take him in even deeper, now deep throating him. It hurt a little, but you cared more about the sweet tune of Dae-Ho’s whines. It might be your new favorite song.
“(Y-Y,n)…! Keep going like that and I’m g-gonna…I’m…!”
He was close, you could feel it. And so you continued your usual motions before showing special attention to his tip, his most sensitive spot. Dae-Ho grit his teeth and cried out, his back arching as he came. His shadow looked glorious, the way it mirrored his position and his gasps. It was almost like a painting, a work of art.
White hot strings enter your mouth, and you swallow it all. You blink up at him, removing your lips and clicking your tongue. Dae-Ho’s expression was priceless, his vulnerability was shown, the walls were down. “(Y,n)…” He cups your face and pulls lightly, a silent gesture he wants you to rise. You do so gracefully and stop. Seeing as the man was basically naked for you, you thought you should return the favor. Dae-Ho watches you slowly strip, undoing your outfit completely. He shakily sighs,
“You’re so beautiful…”
Once bare, you meet him in a ravenous kiss. Your hands hold the sides of his jaw as he wraps his arm around your waist. He whimpers against your lips, rolling you over so you were on your back, not breaking the kiss for a second. Dae-Ho gently takes both of your hands and pin them above your head, one hand having a grip on your wrists. You lament, feeling more aroused in such a helpless position.
He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting you both. He admires you, your returned flushed face staring back at him lustfully. He leans back down, kissing down your neck. His touch was so sweet, feather light. Every kiss was gentle, as if you were delicate. He kissed down your body, stopping at your chest. His eyes meet yours again, asking for permission. You nod, gulping subtly. He’d continue, muttering,
“You deserve to be worshipped.”
He trails his tongue around your nipple and plants a peck on the top, before taking your breast into his mouth. Somehow, he knew the exact way to worship you. He sucked at the perfect intensity and rhythm. With his other hand, he massages your other breast. You loved the way he treated you.
“Dae-Ho…”
It sent waves of pleasure up your body. He started to work his way down, reaching your drenched pussy.
“God, you’re soaked…”
His tongue meets your dripping hole, running through your folds. You cry out, gripping his hair lightly. “Dae-Ho…! Fuck..” You feel his tongue swirl around your clit. The wet muscle circling as he sucked on the pearl. He started eating you out like he was damned starving. You massage his scalp, gripping every now and then. But then, you feel a wave of pleasure shoot through you as Dae-Ho inserts a finger. “Fuck…!” You whine, your eyes now shut. Sucking on your clit, he adds another, pushing them both in and curling his fingers. Your back arches as you’re shocked from too much stimulation.
“I-It’s too much…! D-Dae-Ho! Fuck. T-too m-much!”
“You can take it.”
His immediate response makes your orgasm race forward faster than you can blink. He continues pushing his fingers in an out of you, curling them each time and abusing your G spot. You cry out his name as you finish all over his face, unable to warn him in time. But he just laps up your juices like any other meal.
Dae-Ho looks back up at you with dreamy eyes. He’s met with your panting and flushed expression. You reach your hands out, trying to beckon him closer.
“Dae-Ho… j-just kiss me please!”
You didn’t have to tell him twice as he slams his lips on yours, crawling back atop your body. You grind against his now hard again cock, moaning against him. Soft hums and grunts come from his throat and vibrate on your skin. You pull back, needing to feel him inside of you for certainty. “D-do you have a condom?” Your question catches him off guard, but it’s a necessary one. Dae-Ho blinks and nods. “Yeah— one second.” He kisses your cheek, making you smile as he scrambles to grab one.
As soon as he rolled one on, he’s back on top of you, gazing into your eyes once more. You swear you could see an entire night sky in his dark orbs. “Dae-Ho…” You kiss him again, he more than happily reciprocates. He breathes in through his nose, breathing in you. He lines up his cock with your entrance, pulling back to cup your face.
“Do you want this?”
Consent is a beautiful and mandatory thing. He caresses your cheek with his thumb. You nod, resting your hand atop his with a kind smile.
“I want you, Dae-Ho.”
Dae-Ho leans in and kisses you softly. His lips softly trying to tell you, ‘I’ve got you.’
He slowly enters you, his hands now gripping your hips. You grimace, adjusting to his length. Dae-Ho intertwines his fingers with yours on the bedsheets, giving a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were clamped shut, soft shudders escaping him as he continued in. “Fuck… (Y,n)…”
He bottoms out, and you’re a whimpering mess. Dae-Ho, despite being in a similar position, slants over and kisses up your neck. His lips comforting you generously.
“That’s it… that’s my girl.”
There’s something about the way he says it that makes your heart flutter.
“Yeah… yeah, fuck, your girl.”
He starts to move slowly, his breathing shaky from ecstasy. He mewls in your ear, biting his lip at an attempt to keep quiet. But you weren’t going to let that slide. “…Wanna hear you… wanna hear how good you feel.” You order. Dae-Ho’s hips stutter before he speeds up his thrusts. He lets out a louder whimper, you match his vocals, gripping his shoulders.
“D-Dae!”
“(Y,n)…!”
He holds you closer to him, his thrusts getting faster and deeper. His body was warm. You could feel his muscles tensing with every push and movement.
“Tell me I’m yours,”
He starts, his voice dripping with need.
“Tell me you’ll stay.”
The vulnerability in his tone was enough to make you tear up. He was opening his heart out to you, leaving himself exposed. You wrap your arms around his back, covering his open wound with your own body. You cradle his head in your hand.
“I’ll stay, you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
Your words of affirmation carry in the air. Dae-Ho hugs you even tighter. “(Y,n)!” He goes at an incredible speed, pounding into you. You claw at his back, needing the support. “Dae-Ho!” You wail, overwhelmed with pleasure. The male moves from your neck to rest his forehead against his. You feel every bit of love he was pumping into you. It’s a different level of intimacy, truly seeing each other’s soul like this.
You feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach. “Dae-Ho~! I’m close!” You moan, moaning in rhythm with each thrust. Dae-Ho nods frantically. “M-me too! Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…!” He’s unable to control his blabbering mouth. “Fuck. (Y,n)—you’re so good. So good. Need you… fuck…gonna—“
With that, you both come undone together, your moaning screams mixing together. Dae-Ho nearly collapses on top of you as he catches his breath, his face resting in your neck again. You pant, running your fingers through his hair as you both close your eyes.
He’d roll to his side, pulling out of you and disposing of the condom, tossing it into a trash can by his desk. He lays back down, resting on your collarbone. His arm snugly tucks around your waist.
“Did you mean it… what you said?”
Dae Ho’s question was so innocent, full of hope. He looked up at you expectantly. You feel yourself melt under his gaze, smiling softly and cupping his cheek.
“Of course I did. I’m yours.”
A satisfied smile forms on his face and he rests back down, closing his eyes with contentment. The two of you play together for the rest of the night. The last thing you’d hear before your slumber was a small mutter from your boy.
“I’m yours.”
#dae ho#dae ho x reader#dae ho squid game#squid game#squid game s2#squid game x reader#squid game smut#kang dae ho x reader#kang dae ho#Spotify
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I am warm and full and cozy and thinking about Bucky who has gotten a few pounds on his stomach, not bc he has to bulk for a mission or anything but bc he's save and get three square meals and a snack every day. Lots of love and a pie on Sunday. The dream honestly
Answering this on a Monday but I feel very cozy about it!
Just Right
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky learns to love food again, and his body.
Word Count: Over 750
Warnings: Mentions of HYDRA, recovery, body positivity, reference to oral sex, bit of humor, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I may need to do more of this, and much appreciated for the inspiration @v-wie-was. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky who was now able to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with snacks in between each meal and dessert after dinner, which took some getting used to.
Bucky who didn’t get to overindulge in foods he enjoyed while he was under HYDRA’s control. He was given enough to maintain his strength and nothing more and he never decided on what they provided.
Bucky who, when he thought about it, didn’t get to enjoy food since before he went off to war. He ate to sustain and survive and nothing more.
Bucky who had to learn all over again what he liked and disliked once he was free. Being able to choose was overwhelming and he almost broke down the first time he bought plums simply because he wanted them.
Bucky who with his heightened senses learned to appreciate certain smells and tastes and learned which places to avoid so it didn’t feel like sensory overload. He also learned which flavors he could never get enough of and which ones he could only handle in small doses.
Bucky who had to figure out how much he could eat to feel full and not stop because of his old programming. He also told himself not to feel guilty if he had a few more bites because it was more than allowed.
Bucky who met you at the store one day when you both reached for the same plum. That day changed his life.
Bucky who, like a gentleman, let you have the plum and couldn't stop staring at you since you were so beautiful.
Bucky who couldn't think of a witty reply when you boldly offered him your phone number in return, so he gave you an awkward smile that you found endearing.
Bucky who was happy you took a chance since you were easy to talk to. You also taught him that food emojis could be… taken a certain way, which he learned when he sent an eggplant and peach together.
Bucky who couldn’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed because he was talking about food, and he wanted you.
Bucky who enjoyed cooking with you and smiled wistfully when he thought about his family. How his mom always put so much love into her cooking.
Bucky who made a mess of his shirt one day because he was trying to eat something messy and read at the same time. And you groaned because you had just finished laundry earlier.
Bucky who grew to appreciate messes like that because they felt normal.
Bucky who noticed almost immediately when his clothes began to fit differently, eventually to the point where they were too snug.
Bucky who felt slightly worried when he told you his clothes were too tight and had to go shopping. He wanted to be attractive to you.
Bucky who felt his heart swell when you not only told him he looked good no matter what but offered to go shopping with him.
Bucky who felt handsome trying on new clothes since they fit properly and just right. The confidence grew when he saw your pupils dilate more and more with each outfit he tried on.
Bucky who also heard your heart race faster and smelled your arousal.
Bucky who didn’t get to make it home before you dropped to your knees to worship him. You made sure to place extra kisses on his stomach on your way down.
Bucky who hardly let people touch him, but welcomed your touch and let you paint him like a canvas with your love and desire.
Bucky who had a huge smile on his face after the mind-blowing orgasm you gave him along with a promise of pie for dessert. He wanted you for dessert, too.
Bucky who associated certain foods with you because, like you, they brought him joy, comfort, and were downright delicious.
Bucky who stood in the kitchen while he waited for dinner to cool off and looked down at his stomach with a smile, reminding himself that any extra pound was just more of him to love and you’d love him no matter what.
Bucky who thought about how comfortable he was in his skin because he was healthy and able to make his own choices.
Bucky who gazed at you from across the room and couldn’t believe this was his life, that he found peace, happiness, and love.
Bucky who was crazy about you and couldn't imagine a meal without you. Or his life.
And Bucky who finally felt safe and free.
Okay, lovelies, what do we think his favorite dessert is? Besides you. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#chubby!bucky barnes#chubby!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#winter soldier#bucky barnes fluff#winter soldier x reader#bucky fluff
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MARKS ON YOUR BODY - LN4||OP81



summary : In which it starts with strip poker and ends with questions about a specific hidden tattoo and some secret piercings. Or, Lando and Oscar are both hot for you and let you know it.
listen up : zakbrowndaughter!reader 18+ not fully smut but pretty suggestive (at least for me who doesn’t write smut lol) i’m blushing. STRIP POKER PHOTO INSPIRED!! tramp stamp and tits pierced??🙂↕️
words : 1425
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“Alright Lan, You wanna stop?” Oscar eyes Lando who’s in pants only. The only way Lando would lose strip poker is if he distracted me too much with his body.
He laughs, “Fuck no!”
“Fuck yes.” I throw down my cards and yawn, “I’m bored of winning.” Oscar had so many pieces of outerwear that he’s lost multiple times but still is wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
Strip poker is my game apparently, maybe the possibility of the guys being naked fueled my fire.
“I swear you’re cheating.” Lando shakes his head.
Oscar’s laughing as I scoff, “I do not cheat! Just accept defeat, Norris.”
He leans against the table, “I’m not losing to you, Brown.”
“I think it’s too late for that, Lando.” Oscar fiddles with a card in his hand as I lean my head back. Apparently, my hair moves with me and Oscar’s brow shoots up, “You have a tattoo?”
I blink, “Uh yeah.”
“What!?” Lando practically screams, “Let’s see.”
I move back my hair to reveal the tattoo that’s behind my ear, it’s a tiny 8 for the number I grew up racing with. “That’s hot.” Lando nods as Oscar hits his arm, “I want to get a tattoo.”
“No you do not!” Oscar argues as Lando sends him a dirty look.
He turns back to me, his arms crossed against the table so his biceps pull my attention, “Did it hurt?”
I shrug, “Yeah, but some of my others hurt more.”
Lando’s jaw drops, “You have more? How did we not know this?”
I laugh again, “I hide them from my dad.”
“Really?” Oscar asks, seemingly surprised at my sneaky nature.
The corner of my mouth pulls upwards, “You wanna see the rest?”
His eyes are deep as he nods and taps the card against the table. “I’m assuming they’re easy to hide.”
I sigh and hook my finger to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it upwards. He's right, of course. All of my tattoos aren’t easily seen by my father.
I pull my shirt until I reach my sternum. Lando’s smile dulls as his eyes zero in on my skin, clearly not wanting to miss anything. I have a star design that goes in a line with little details around it.
Oscar leans his head back against the headrest, biting his lip and checking me out. I don’t think he’s ever looked hotter.
Lando’s hair is a mess but in the sort of attractive way that makes you want to pull it. The two of them are my greatest desire with bright orange caution tape put up by my father.
Zak Brown hates when I'm with the two of them, no matter which, he doesn’t trust me. But coming back from the FIA awards, they offered me a ride since we were all going back to england, so it was only polite to accept.
I drop my shirt and I swear I see Lando’s mouth fall into a frown. “Damn… didn’t know you went against daddy’s orders.”
I smirk, “He hates tattoos…Thinks they’re trashy. Which is ironic because...” I stop myself before I can go on, trailing off and grabbing my water to play it off.
“Because what?” Oscar asks.
“Um…” I don’t really know what to say and I feel quite overwhelmed with these two men staring at me.
“You have one more. Don’t you?” Oscar’s trying to hide his smirk but is shit at it. Lando looks to his teammate, then me.
“Now we have to see.” The curly haired man stretches his arm on the table, his muscles rippling and making me bite my lip.
“Okay.” I situate myself so I'm sitting on my feet. I pause, looking at both of them for a second. The whole thing is so oddly erotic and ridiculously hot.
I turn around in my seat, pulling down the back of my sweats ever so slightly so my tramp stamp is in view. I look over my shoulder to see their reactions because neither of them say a thing.
Oscar is staring, face blank and directed at my lower back. Lando’s mouth is open just the slightest bit, his arm draped over the back of Oscar’s seat. It’s not huge, just thin lines that make up a butterfly and some swirls to compliment it.
“Fuck.” Lando whispers, Oscar looks at him but doesn’t tell him to stop, just mumbles along with his friend. “Yeah.”
“You like it?” I know they do. I’m not blind.
The two are staring at me like i’m fucking edible and the way they look right now, I might be. “I’d be an idiot not to.” Oscar says as I turn back around, my shirt still pulled up and my hair to one side.
“I think this is the first time Lando’s been speechless.” I joke as his eyes meet mine again and his cheeks go pink. “Am I making you nervous, Norris?”
I expect him to roll his eyes or scoff, but he just breathes out and says, “You’re really hot, Y/n.”
“Can’t argue with him there.” Oscar wipes a hand over his mouth before tapping the table, “I wanna see it closer.”
I realize that he means he wants me to sit on the table. “Not even a please?” I tease but I'm already turning and setting myself down on it.
I’m about to adjust my pants but Lando’s hand does it for me. His skin is cold and holds my hip as his fingers dip below my waistband.
“Why a butterfly?” Oscar asks, leaning against the table to get a better look. I lean back and rest against my arms as they look.
“Thought it was cute.”
Oscar laughs a bit, “How often do you mark your body because it’s cute?”
Lando slides out of his seat, moving into mine so I'm facing him. He doesn’t even ask, just slides a hand onto my hip and another on my shirt, pulling it up to see my sternum.
Oscar switches with Lando so he’s now holding the back of my sweats. I let my eyes train down Lando’s chest… his abs… his arms. He’s fit as fuck and the way he was acting during strip poker, he knows it.
I go back to Oscar's question, realizing I got distracted by Lando in front of me. “Very often actually, piercings too.”
This prompts Lando to push my hair behind my ear, admiring my jewelry, “How many do you have?” He sounds almost out of breath.
“Twelve.” His fingers drift over my earrings, counting.
“You only have five on each, though.” As soon as Lando says it, I hear Oscar shift in his seat.
I don’t even wait for Lando to catch on, I just grab his wrist and have my shirt go up with his hand. Lando lets out a noise, close to a whimper.
He stares at my bare chest, the only thing on me is my jewelry decorating each nipple.
I hear Oscar stand, his hand gripping my hip tighten as he gets closer. He’s looking over my shoulder, I lean back a bit so he has a better view of my tits.
Lando’s hand is resting on my neck, pushing my shirt against my skin, I can feel his pulse beat faster under my fingertips.
Lando’s gaze shifts to Oscar as the brown eyed man stares back at him. I feel like they’re having some telepathic conversation that I can’t understand, until Oscar looks back at me.
His eyes are darker, the air filled with tension. As my eyes flick to Lando, I see his chest rise and fall. I get it now.
My hand slips to Oscar’s face, his jaw and cheek warm against my touch. I hesitate purely to see how his breath hitches, then I kiss him.
Lando swears as Oscar’s tongue dips into my mouth, he freezes between my legs. I break the kiss with Lando, hooking my leg around his waist to pull him in closer.
“Are you still nervous?” I whisper as Oscar moves his lips to my neck. Lando looks like he’s dreaming, his head turning side to side slowly as I smirk.
He kisses me, softer than Oscar at first but he becomes sloppier when I start being affected by Oscar attached to my neck.
The aussie mumbles against my skin, “This your end goal all along? Strip poker… tattoo tour… fuck?”
I lean my head back and laugh, “No. I guess I'm just lucky.”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris smut#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x lando norris#landoscar#landoscar smut#k i’m in love with this
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HARDER THAN YOU THINK
Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,7k
Written together with @milla-frenchy
Summary: It’s your first day at work and you feel nervous. But what can go wrong if your boss is your dad’s best friend, a person you’ve known and trusted for years?
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CON, Dbf!Joel, boss!Joel, dark!Joel, power imbalance, blackmail, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), oral (f), pussy slapping, use of a sex toy, degradation, unprotected piv, gangbang, creampies. Reader wears a skirt.
A/n: @milla-frenchy and I wrote this story for @romanarose ‘s Dead Dove December. Thank you for this event, celebrating dark fic, Roman❤️ Milla, baby, it’s always a pleasure to write with you! ILYSM🫂💖
Heed the warnings! If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. We are not responsible for the content you consume. This is not for everyone and that's okay. We don't condone the actions of the characters.
MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST
Day one at your first job started horribly. You overslept, got in a traffic jam and arrived at the office panting and apologizing. Fortunately, your boss, Mr Miller, didn’t tell you off for your tardiness. Instead he greeted you with a wide, most charming smile. You’ve known him for a few years, him being your dad’s good friend and his employer as well as yours now.
Mr Miller was a successful businessman and your parents owed everything to his generosity and kindness. He helped your father out when your family was about to lose the house and your dad always talked highly of his ‘best bud’. You’ve been calling him Joel all these years, but wishing to show respect at the workplace, you decided to call him Mr Miller.
Now you’re attending a company meeting in a spacious conference room, taking bullet points of the discussion on your tablet. Mr Miller is sitting at the head of the desk, leaning comfortably in his chair, his thick thighs spread, piercing eyes narrowed. His perfectly tailored blue suit which probably costs more than your future year salary accentuates his broad powerful frame. Throwing glances at him from time to time, you can’t help but admire the way the fabric stretches over his arms and shoulders. You’ve never thought about Joel like that, he was much older than you, but it was hard to deny how handsome he was.
Joel is listening to an employee’s report, pouting his lips from time to time. Knowing him quite well, you read his face easily, so it’s evident to you that he’s not pleased with what she’s telling him. Joel’s always been nice and kind to you and your parents, but right now you feel like a volcano is about to erupt.
“Are you happy with all this, sweet cheeks?” He asks but doesn’t let the woman reply. "I’m definitely not. I hope I won't hear these numbers ever again. Or you're gonna lose your job in a heartbeat. I doubt your family will be happy with you getting fired. You just had a baby, right?”
The woman swallows loudly and nods.
“Get your shit together!” Joel barks and the employee looks terrified. You feel bad for her. You’ve never seen Joel be so mean before but that's probably part of the character trait that goes with his job.
When the meeting is over, some people leave but three men stay behind with Joel, still chatting to each other. You get up, ready to sneak out, but your boss stops you at the door, calling your name.
“Sorry, I thought the meeting’s over”, you explain, coming up to him with an apologetic smile.
“Yeah, the main part’s done but we have something extra on our agenda today.”
Joel gets up and walks over to one of the cabinets. He takes something out of a drawer and puts it in the pocket of his suit pants. You raise your brows with a silent question and he turns his face to the managers,
“Gentlemen! Today is this young lady’s first day at our company and I’d like you to give her a warm welcome.”
You feel overwhelmed when all the attention is focused on you but, fearing to seem rude or disrespectful, you turn to the men and smile nervously, fumbling with your fingers. You wonder what Joel put in his pocket. You didn't expect to receive a gift on your first day, and you don’t know how to thank him properly.
The men hum approvingly but soon you feel uneasy noticing their eyes slide down your body and take you in with something more than simple curiosity. One of them smirks and your face falls. Fortunately, Joel steps up to you and his wide smile relaxes you a little. Knowing him for so long, you feel that he has your back. He takes your hand and holds it in his big warm palm.
“Sweetheart, we have a tradition in our company. We call it “Initiation”.
“W—What is it?” you mumble, smiling and blinking at him with confusion, while your stomach churns. You hope he won’t ask you to give a speech of some kind. You’d die of stage fright.
Joel explains, “Some of us gather here to celebrate our new employee and I’m happy that today it is you.“
Joel inches closer and you instinctively take a step back but he pulls you to him gently yet with unyielding determination.
“Usually one of our top managers does it, but of course, with you it had to be me. Also some of these gentlemen sent me messages during the meeting… Seems that they want to take part, now that they saw you.”
His face is inches from yours and he lowers his voice to tell you, “to be specific, we all are going to celebrate you and your body. Teach you some new things while we’re at it, too.”
Your gaze darts between his darkening eyes as you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You can’t comprehend what he’s saying but your instinct is screaming for you to run.
Joel gently cups your cheek and turns to the other men in the room, “she’s adorable.” With that he places his hands on your hips, and mumbling “c’mon”, moves you to the head of the desk.
“Joel, what are you…?” Your voice is shaky, your palms placed on his broad chest push him off you but he’s too strong and soon your ass is perched up on the surface, your back turned to the other men.
“Joel, please, what are you doing?” you mumble as panic rises in your chest.
“Shh, we’re just gonna have some fun, you and me at first, then I'll let the others join us.”
He looks behind you, and you hear the other men react.
“Fuck yeah.”
“I think I will.”
“Give it to her, boss.”
You hear their words and you start to understand what’s happening. Or rather, you start realizing what your dissociated mind was trying to hide.
“Joel… You’re scaring me…” you stammer, eyes wide.
“Fear is a good thing. It means I'm in control. And I want control over you."
Now you feel Joel’s hands rubbing your thighs, covered by tights, slithering up and under the hem of your skirt, while his gaze is set on your chest.
“No, Joel, please,” you plead, searching for his eyes, hoping to keep his attention on you, break the spell that turned these people into wild animals, turned this office into a cage that you can’t escape from. Trying to make him come back to his senses and remind him that it's you, the person he's known for so long, that he is your father's friend, who you thought would protect you from all dangers, if he had to.
But his eyes remain black, cold. The more you beg, the brighter an unhealthy spark shines in them. As if he likes it, likes you begging.
“You’re my dad’s friend, don’t do this to me,” you whine, overwhelmed by his big body caging yours against the desk, terrified to your core at the realization of what he’s about to do to you.
“Yes, you’re right,” he stops, giving you a glimpse of hope, and looks into your eyes. “Your dad’s a great guy but he has a big flaw. He has this pretty little thing for a daughter.”
Your heart breaks when you hear him, your hope is dead.
Joel leans closer and you pull away but he grabs the back of your neck and holds you still, brushing your lips with his.
“If he only knew how much I want to stretch your little holes. And you know me, baby,” he pecks your lips and whispers, “I always get what I want.”
The men behind you chuckle, loving this display of power. The smell of Joel’s perfume hits your nose and your head spins for a second as part of you still struggles to understand what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes.
Your new boss, a man you’ve known for years, wants to fuck you in front of other people on your first day here. You try to make your mind work, get you out of the situation.
“I’ll tell my dad. I’ll tell everyone,” you cry out, making your voice firmer, but Joel just laughs, enveloping you in his tight embrace. To your horror you hear the sound of the chairs moving behind you and then footsteps. You’re surrounded now.
“If you start yapping, sweetie, you and your dad will lose your jobs in a second and I’ll make sure no one ever hires you both.”
His voice is calm, his breathing steady, as if he were telling you the most mundane things in the world, and you shiver.
“Besides, your dad owes me a lot of money. Your family will lose everything.” He searches for your widened eyes and whispers, “you work for me now so it means I own you.”
Suddenly his lips latch onto your neck. His hold is too tight but the kiss is slow and gentle.
“No, no,” you start sobbing and Joel pulls away and takes your face between his big hands.
“Honey, calm down, imagine there’s only you and me here. No one else, uh?” His eyes are obsidian and full of lust and you understand that you won’t get out of this. He will have you.
“Please, Joel, I don’t want to…“
“But you do, baby, you want me,” he kisses your cheek. “You want my big cock in your little pussy. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
He drags his stubble over your cheek and you whimper when his hand snakes between your thighs.
“You really think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, the clothes you wear, when I have lunch at your parents’?”
“What? No!!”
“Shh…” he cuts you, brushing your lips with his finger. “You wanna get fucked by a man older than you. A man who will give it to you good.”
Through the material of your tights and panties you feel his hand caress your folds and you close your eyes shut, trying to escape the horror of the situation.
"Girls your age want that. A mature man,” he adds.
You mewl a quiet “no” again and he uses the moment to kiss you and push his tongue past your lips. With one hand keeping you close and the other gently massaging your pussy, Joel claims your mouth, licking into it, swallowing your soft cries.
As soon as he parts from you, your hands push him away but his strong physique overpowers you in seconds. He grabs your wrists and makes you lie down on the desk. You’re pressed to the wooden surface by his heavy body as his breath fans your cheek when he growls, “Don’t fight it. It’ll be my way or bad way, baby. Choose wisely.”
In your peripheral vision you notice the men next to the desk, one on the left and two on the right. Like hyenas they are waiting for their turn when the main predator is done with the prey.
You begin thrashing around on the desk and Joel slightly lifts his torso but holds you down with his hand wrapped around your neck. You freeze as panic grips your heart. He’s not squeezing it but the threat is swimming in his blown out eyes.
He smirks when you stop moving. “Good girl. Made the right choice.”
Joel straightens up, his figure looming over you, and then starts pulling up your skirt. You try to stop his hands but in vain.
“Let’s see what we have here. White lace. Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Innocence looks good on you. I know you’re not a virgin though,” he laughs and continues, “I remember a boy used to come to your bedroom all the time. Your old man was scared that you’d get pregnant. Fuck, I wanted to kill that little shit for touching you.“
You take a sharp breath, terrified of how long his obsession with you has lasted.
“I know you’re single now. It’s good. Now you have me. I’ll fulfill all your needs, baby. And will fill all your holes.”
With that he rips your tights between your legs, and you squeal scared to death. You try to slide off the desk but he presses his forearm over your belly, not letting you move away.
You hear the murmur of the others, watching you sob and fight the man twice bigger than you like it’s some twisted show.
When Joel grabs your hips to keep you in place, you turn your head, pleading eyes darting between the men but their expressions scare you. There’s not a trace of sympathy on their faces, not a chance that this vile group will help you.
With tears streaming down your cheeks you look back between your spread legs and find Joel’s hungry gaze there. He’s sneering at you, noticing your fruitless attempt to seek assistance from his employees.
“What’s that, baby? Looking for anyone to call an HR? He’s over there. Say hi, Steve.”
You hear a gruff voice somewhere from behind you.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Aww, isn’t he nice?” Joel mocks and dread spreads in your chest. There’s no way out. You’re trapped. Your only hope is the man you thought to be a friend.
“Please, Joel. Stop. I won’t tell anyone. Let me go.” Your voice is barely audible, you sound pathetic, and Joel’s face softens. His brows knit together as he looks between your legs and talks while his fingers slowly pull your panties to the side.
“I think I’ve made a mistake.”
You gasp when his fingers graze your exposed folds and try to close your legs but he’s holding you securely.
“I haven’t explained your position in this company yet. It will help you to understand what’s happening and accept it.” His fingers stroke your seam and then push inside between your folds, leaving you shocked and breathless.
“From now on you’re my office whore. I tell you to suck, you suck, I tell you to bend over - you do exactly that.”
His voice is gruff and cold, eyes focused on the place where his fingers swirl around your hardening clit and you squeeze your eyes closed, fighting the fire in your core that’s burning brighter with every second of his caress.
“She loves it, your pretty pussy,” Joel smiles, looking up at you, “do you hear how wet she’s getting for me? You should relax, and let your body take what it wants. Stop fighting it, baby.”
He sinks two thick digits into your soft hole and you tighten your muscles, eyes wide, surprised by a heat spreading through your body.
You hear it too. When Joel begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, lewd squelching noises reach your ears, the sign of your body surrendering to his horrible act. A moan crawls up your throat and you muffle it with the back of your hand.
A sharp flick of Joel’s fingers lands on your clit and you cry out.
“Don’t. Don’t hide it. Wanna hear you enjoying it, little slut. I wouldn’t make my cock wait if I didn’t wanna hear some sweet moans from you.”
His hands leave your pussy and he places his palms on your inner thighs, spreading them wider.
“Now— Let’s have a taste.”
You watch him lower his head to your cunt and he licks a stripe between your wet folds from your clenching hole to your sensitive clit and sucks on it for a few seconds. Your back arches involuntarily.
“Delicious,” he mumbles, wet lips against your folds, and the vibrations send shivers down your spine.
You want to hate the sensation his mouth is giving you, but your whole body treacherously buzzes when his hot tongue laps away your slick. Joel kisses your pussy, his gentleness is a striking contrast to the situation. He’s eating you out to make you come, hungry to claim your pleasure as well, and you grit your teeth, fighting it with all your being.
He feels you holding back and growls before focusing all of his attention on your puffy clit, flicking it and rubbing it with his tongue, sucking it in between his teeth, and you can’t help but explode under his ministrations. You begin shaking against the desk, and through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears you hear cheers and clapping from the heartless audience.
“Good job, boss!”
“What a slut!”
“You’re the man!”
Their reaction makes your heart shutter into pieces.
Joel gives his employees his million dollar smile, pride lighting up his dark eyes, and absentmindedly rubs his hands over your thighs still partially covered by tights, ripped at the crotch.
He gets up from the chair and when you try to close your legs, he yanks you to the edge again, pushing his hips between your thighs.
Joel slowly unbuckles his belt with one hand and unzips his suit pants, talking to you, “I thought about asking you out on a date, honey. Making you my girlfriend.”
He chuckles and pulls his boxers down.
“Could be nice. You, waiting for me at home.”
His cock springs free and you feel even more scared if it’s even possible. His manhood is huge, long and thick, bigger than your ex boyfriend’s for sure. He holds it at the base and continues, “you’d greet me with a home-cooked meal and a wet pussy.”
You know what he’s about to do and all your being rises in protest so you slap his hand off and slide off the desk in a fast motion.
“Hold her!” Joel barks and a few pairs of hands grab you and push you down. Your back hits the desk and someone’s holding your wrists over your head, their hands keeping you still, at the same time gliding over exposed parts of your body - your neck, your chest, a slither of your naked belly.
Joel doesn’t stop them. His eyes are fixed on your bare cunt, glistening with the signs of your body’s betrayal.
A sharp slap lands on your mound and sends a bolt of pain through your body, and you squeal.
“Don’t do it again, naughty girl. Or I’ll let these heathens fuck your ass raw.”
You sob, trying to ease the steel grip on your wrists. Through tears in your eyes, you see Joel bring the head of his stiff cock to your pussy and in a second you feel him push it in, slowly, but not for the sake of your comfort. Only for his enjoyment.
His head falls back and he groans, “fuckk, she’s tight. You can’t find a pussy like that in an escort.”
Joel looks down at you with a hazy smile and you plead for him to stop but he ignores you and thrusts into your core. He takes out what’s in his pocket and brings his hand close to your stuffed cunt. You hear a “buzz”, when he turns on a bullet vibe.
“No, Joel, please…” you cry.
“I want you to come on my cock too. And with this little helper, I’m sure you will, baby.”
He begins rolling his hips, pushing his fat cock in and out of your dripping pussy. You whine, feeling your walls spread around his girthy member and your belly is heaving with a mixture of fear and arousal. Meanwhile Joel starts fucking you faster, talking to you like there’s no one else in the room.
“Your dad would mind if we started going out but who gives a shit? I could just throw some money his way. Money can buy everything.”
He winks at you and you sob, sliding up and down the desk with each mighty thrust.
“But — It’s not the main problem. I spend most of the time here. I work hard—Aahhh— and it’s nice to fuck someone between the meetings, right, guys?”
You hear sounds of agreement around you and squeeze your eyes shut, scared to see the faces of the monsters around you.
Joel’s cock is rhythmically brushing your g spot and you hate that behind the horror there’s pleasure, nauseating and terrifying, but pleasure nonetheless. Joel tilts his hips and you cry out when he grazes something ecstatic inside your core.
“You gonna come again, honey?” he coos at you and the pet name he used so many times before, visiting your father, cuts your heart with a sharp blade.
A river of fresh tears rolls down your face but your misery is not noticed by Joel who explains, after a loud grunt, “office affairs take too much time and effort. But you. You’d be perfect as my pretty cum dumpster.”
With that he grabs your sides, nails digging into your soft skin, and starts snapping his hips into you, violating your pussy with his fat cock.
“Fuck, gonna come soon. Pussy’s too good. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”
The men around you cheer again. Joel presses the vibrator to your clit and you whine, your walls clamp around his manhood and it sends him over the edge. With a loud grunt he begins spilling his hot cum into your pulsating pussy, pumping you more and more, pushing his cock deeper, while holding you with the iron grip of his hands.
You start sobbing again feeling the warmth spread deep in your core and it freezes your heart with another terror. You’re not on the pill.
Joel stays buried inside you for some time. You are so shocked that you don't react. You ignore his cock pulsating inside you. Ignore its last twitches. Until reality hits you and you cry harder. Your body betrayed you. Joel betrayed you.
“Joel, please… let me go.”
He finally pulls out and you feel some of his cum slide to your ass. You try to sit up but he grabs your wrists in his hands, keeping you down on the desk, leaning over you. His hazy gaze fixed on yours.
“Not so fast baby… we’re not gonna waste all this cum, are we? I want these men to remember who you belong to and fuck it back into you.”
You realize with shock that he really intends to throw you to them.
“Steve? You worked so hard this month. Enjoy your reward.”
Looking down at you, he adds, “come on, baby, be a good girl. Steve deserves it. And we already know you're a little slut. You clenched so hard on my cock, mmm?” He wipes away a tear running down your cheek with his thumb and steps away.
You try to close your legs but Joel clicks his tongue.
“No, no, no. I made myself clear, didn't I? Jim, didn’t I make myself clear?”
“Yes, boss, very clear.”
“If you're difficult, your father can say goodbye to his income. To his job. Your parents almost got divorced that time, didn't they?” His dark eyes are fixed on you. Even colder than before. There’s no hesitation or remorse in him. “So if you don't want your father to end up under a bridge, and your mother to whore around with her slutty daughter, you're gonna stop whining.”
He points his finger at you. You remember the meeting earlier. How cold he was, how sorry you felt for that woman. But now, it’s you who is facing this terrible side of him.
“And you’re gonna let them take their turn. Final warning.”
You suppress a sob, even when Steve settles between your legs and places one hand on your thigh and the other around his cock.
“Go on Steve, give her a good fuck.”
You hear the men cheer when Joel's employee pushes his tip in your already sore hole.
“Come on man, give it to her good!”
“Fuck that bitch!”
He thrusts in, grunting. Excited by the cheers of the other men. He fucks you hard as soon as he grabs your thighs and buries his length in you. You keep your eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze, and unwilling to give them any more of yourself by letting them see your frightened eyes.
“Well damn, Steve, you got great moves!”
The man puts his hands on your hips for a better leverage, jerking you forward with each thrust.
“Fuck, she's tight…”
“Yeah? Tighter than your wife?”
They all laugh, and you feel nauseous.
“Come on, Steve. Shoot your load. Don't enjoy it too much. I just lent her to you.”
Steve obeys and comes in your cunt, mixing his cum with Joel's.
Then Jim uses you.
And finally, Paul. He turns you around and bends you over to thrust into you from behind. He’s already groaning, when Joel’s phone rings.
“Oh!” he chuckles when he sees the name on the screen. He picks up and, looking at you, brings his index finger to his mouth, ordering you to be quiet.
“Hey, man! Calling to check on your daughter?” He walks around the desk to sit at your side and starts jerking his cock as he watches you getting fucked by the third man.
You can’t hear what your dad is saying, and your mind dissociates again.
“It’s going great. She’s already showing some serious skills!”
Joel smiles in response to what your father’s saying, his hand still fucking his shaft.
“No, sorry, she’s with Paul. He’s showing her some new procedures, they will be very useful to me soon.”
Paul is growling, rutting into you, and you hear Joel say, “Yeah sure, I’ll tell her you called.”
Paul spreads your ass cheeks and spits on your ring.
“No!” Joel gruffs in a low, menacing voice, after hanging up. “No one fucks her ass.”
“Sorry, boss, she takes it so good, I got carried away.”
“Don’t forget your place. Fill her up, and then get out, all of you. She’s mine, got it? We all… welcomed her, but now she belongs only to me.”
After using you like a fuck doll, the three men leave the office chatting happily.
Joel gets up, his hand working his fat cock.
“Gotta fill you again, baby. I can’t stay like this, with a hard-on, it’s painful, you know?”
You can’t believe he’s telling you this.
“Pussy’s already ruined, anyway,” he says as he thrusts in and fucks you hard and fast in all men’s cum, until he sends his load into your owerflowing core for a second time.
You’re lying on the desk, not even realizing they all left, that Joel has pulled out, until you feel a jacket covering you. Joel pulls down your skirt back over your thighs and grabs your arm to help you up. He fixes your shirt and looks at your face, your makeup smudged, mascara running down your cheeks.
“You’re gonna need some rest, baby. Come back next week. I’ll be the only one playing with you, from now on. Don’t forget - a pretty girl like you needs a man like me.”
You shiver. His voice pulls you out from the depths of your mind, that is lying to you that none of this has happened.
“Are you on birth control?”
You shake your head, eyes empty.
“I’m gonna give you an after pill, I don’t want you knocked up by one of the guys. You’re too precious for me. Now get your stuff and go home. And don’t think of telling anyone. No one will believe you anyway.”
As you grab the handle, he adds “Oh, before you leave. Add to my calendar, tomorrow, ‘a barbecue at your parents’, at noon. Your dad’s just invited me. It’s gonna be great, baby. Can’t wait to pay you a visit in your bedroom.”
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
Other fics by @milla-frenchy and me
Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark fic
The Burglary -Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon
Bad Girl - Joel x f reader x Tommy - dubcon
The hounds of hell - Series - Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy
MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST
Tagging some lovely people who showed interest in the wips: @koshkaj-blog @604to647 @megangovier @tateypots @sunshineispunk @thundermartini @pedge-page @mountainsandmayhem @iamasaddie @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @evolnoomym @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#tw dead dove#dark!joel miller#tw noncon#joel miller smut#dead dove do not eat#dead dove december#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#tw non con#dark!fic#joel miller au#joel miller the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#harder than you think fic
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Look, there is a simple way to make sure employees are able to take breaks.
Hire
Enough
Fucking
Staff
But, y'know. That cuts into the CEOs yacht budget so we're not going to do that.
So, I've gone back to working at Home Depot while I'm going back to college right? Well, shit is about to hit the fan at Home Depot's across the country. A new policy has been put in place about warnings for not following your schedule to the T, which originally everyone thought only applied to punch in and punch out times. Which would be fine! A lot of people do come in late too often, or leave late, or whatever.
BUT. Home Depot also, technically, schedules what time you're supposed to take your lunch. But NO ONE follows this part of the schedule because you literally CAN'T. The lunch times are so random and rarely work with people's coverage and they frequently break the rule of getting a 30 minute break every 5 hours because of where they sit in a shift. Plus, sometimes they'll be super early in a shift when you just aren't hungry yet.
And the new policy? If you are even a few minutes off on taking your scheduled lunch you'll get an attendance occurrence. (Or half of one, depending on how off you are in your timing.) Once you reach 10 occurrences, which would only take about 2-3 weeks at most of being off on your lunches, you get fired.
Talking to a customer? Too bad, you must drop everything and go to lunch. In the middle of cutting a lumber order for a customer? Too bad. In the middle of a huge rush at the paint desk with no backup that actually knows how to work the paint machines in the store? Too bad. Driving a forklift? Too bad.
The policy goes into effect in a week. People are already crossing out "customer service" and "employee support" (or whatever that one is) on the little values wheel on their aprons. There's talk of a work to rule strike.
Anywho. Prepare for some chaos at your local Home Depot and be patient with the workers going forward. We're not happy about it either.
#ive been working in the medical field since covid#and its filled me with overwhelming rage the amount of times temps have been hired with promises of permanent positions#then let go as soon as it got slow#then another surge happened and what do you know#we were short staffed and couldnt get new temps in until a month or more in#at a new location now#weve had several students go through and only one has been hired into a pool position even though they have positions open#are ending two travelers contracts#and have two people going on maternity leave at the same time in a couple of months#'but the budget' fuck off we made millions for you off of covid testing maybe you should have fucking saved that for a rainy day#just like we get told when we're living paycheck to paycheck because cost of living is fucked and youre going off numbers from 2019 for it#rant#sorry just sick of this bullshit when theres a perfectly reasonable way around problems#and if anyone wants to go 'but people dont want to work' sorry to tell ya but there were a ton of fresh college grads who were screwed over#and got burnt out of the field bc they put everything into the job and got spat on in thanks#idr how many positions i applied for out of college#and i got lucky with the pandemic making them desperate#i dont have the applicable degree but i have the experience and can get certified bc of it#you should not need a specific degree for my position. but there are kids getting the specific degree (4years of it)#when it is perfectly reasonable to start off working and climb up w experience and certifications#double rant#sorry just tired
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PICK A PILE: What do people feel when they look into your eyes?
How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you go ahead and read both!
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My Masterlist🫶🏻
── .✦ PILE I
cards pulled: The world reversed, 10 of wands, Ace of wands, 3 of pentacles, 2 of pentacles.
Hello pile 1! So starting off with your reading, your eyes hold weight. Like, people stare into them and feel this deep, almost overwhelming pull as if you know things. You know when someone makes eye contact and immediately looks away? That’s why. Your gaze makes people feel exposed.
Maybe, Your eyes look different depending on the mood you’re in. It’s almost supernatural. When you’re deep in thought, they can look distant like you’re somewhere else entirely. But when you’re focused on someone? It’s game over for them. Your gaze locks them in place, and they suddenly forget how to breathe. Another hit I’m getting your eyes glow in certain lighting. Like, maybe in the golden hour sun, or under dim lighting, there’s this otherworldly sheen to them. People notice it and get caught in a daze. You could be walking past someone, and they’ll turn back just to check if they really saw what they think they saw. (Hint: They did, and now they can’t stop thinking about it.)
But here’s the thing your energy isn’t necessarily intimidating; it’s just unfiltered truth. People sense that you carry wisdom, resilience, and maybe even some silent battles that have shaped you. The World reversed tells me that people feel like you’ve seen life’s highs and lows, and it shows in the way your eyes hold untold stories. Some might feel comforted by that, but others? Oof they go into a full-on existential crisis when they meet your gaze. people look into your eyes and get this weird mix of heavy emotions and admiration. Like, they see a depth that reminds them of their own struggles, but at the same time, they see someone who is still standing, pushing forward, making things happen. But (and this is interesting), people also feel a need to prove themselves to you. The Three of Pentacles tells me that when people lock eyes with you, there’s this unconscious pressure to be better, to work harder, to impress you. Your eyes challenge people, like, “Are you really putting in the effort? Are you really stepping up in your life?” And some people LOVE that they want to earn your respect. But for others? They shrink. They can’t handle being held to a silent standard.
Now, let’s talk about the fire in your gaze. Because it’s not all deep emotional weight and existential reckoning your eyes also ignite something in people. The Ace of Wands is passion, energy, inspiration your gaze has this spark that wakes people up. It’s like staring into pure potential people look at you and suddenly start daydreaming about big moves, wild possibilities, and even risky choices they never considered before. Also... I HAVE TO SAY IT some people get lowkey obsessed with you because your eyes make them feel ALIVE. Like, they weren’t even thinking about you that way, but now? They’re pacing their room at replaying that one glance you gave them. 😭. People can’t pin you down, and that drives them INSANE. Your gaze shifts between calm and intense, warm and unreadable, steady and playful people never know what’s coming next. And THAT? That’s dangerous. They start overanalyzing, wondering, “What did that look mean? Did they just read my mind? Do they hate me? Do they secretly love me??” And now they’re in a full-blown mental crisis because of you.
Your eyes have this almost ethereal, timeless quality like they’ve seen things beyond this lifetime. The Soft yet piercing contrast is WILD. Your eyes can look gentle one second, then suddenly hold a gaze so powerful it makes people nervous. They flicker between warmth and unreadability, and that unpredictability makes people obsessed. I hope this reading resonated with you, Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! Sending you all the love and good vibes!
Liked the reading? get your own personalized super in-depth paid reading here!
── .✦ PILE II
Cards pulled: 9 of pentacles, Queen of swords, 9 of wands, Page of swords, Wheel of fortune.
HELLO pile 2! Okay, listen. Your eyes? They do NOT play around. Your eyes carry this deadly mix of wisdom, confidence, and just a little bit of "don't mess with me" energy. There’s an air of control like you’re the one observing, assessing, deciding whether someone is worth your time. And BABY, people feel that. They know they have to come correct with you, or not come at all. Your eyes are DANGEROUSLY ATTRACTIVE.
Your eyes have that “I see through you” energy. I am seeing so many words to describe you eyes, like Passionate, rebellious, playful but intense. These eyes command attention. They’re the type that makes people flustered or lose their train of thought mid-sentence. There’s also something undeniably seductive about them not just in a romantic way, but in a “I can’t stop looking at you” way. Your gaze slices through the BS like a sword. People who are fake, insecure, or hiding something? They literally can’t hold eye contact with you for too long because they feel exposed (and maybe even a little judged). They are also Elegant but lethal. Your eyes have that old-money, untouchable confidence. You don’t even need to say "I told you so" your eyes already did. I feel like, yall know HOW to use your eyes in your favour, and if not, i beg you besties to learn that😭you would literally unlock another whole level of magic.
I also see that your eyes scream self-sufficiency, like you know exactly who you are and what you bring to the table. People get the sense that you’re impossible to own they either meet your standards or they’re dismissed. your eyes are so freaking sharp and observant, it’s almost unnerving. People feel like you pick up on everything tiny changes in their tone, subtle body language shifts, the way their hands fidget when they lie. The wheel of fortune signifies the unpredictability of your energy. Your eyes don’t just see people they make them feel like anything could happen. This tells me the mystery your eyes hold is a huge part of your personality. There’s a karmic pull people don’t just glance at you and move on. Your gaze leaves an impact that lingers long after they look away.
Your eyes could Mysterious most of the times, even if you don’t try. Some people have deep, soulful eyes that pull you in and whisper secrets. YOURS is the king That tell people, “Try and figure me out. Good luck, though.” There’s a challenge in your gaze, and it drives people CRAZY.
Just like pile 1, your eyes could also look different depending on your mood. When you’re calm, they’re collected, regal, and unreadable. But when you’re passionate about something? They light up like fire, and suddenly, everyone is hyper-focused on you. But they ALWAYS hold that sense of mystery to them. I’m getting cat energy sleek, unpredictable, untouchable. If you stare too long, it feels like you’re reading minds.
People feel drawn to you, not just for your looks but for the energy you carry, one that’s both mysterious and captivating. There’s a quiet confidence in your gaze that makes people want to know more, yet they also recognize that you don’t let just anyone in. Whether it’s admiration, curiosity, or a little bit of intimidation, one thing’s for sure, people don’t forget the way you look at them.That was intense, but I LOVED every second of it. 😭 Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day!
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── .✦ PILE III
Cards Pulled: 2 of swords, the moon, 8 of pentacles, page of cups, 9 of swords.
Omg. Okay. When people look into your eyes, it’s like they’ve suddenly stepped into a thriller movie. No, seriously. There’s a hypnotic depth here, which is too obvious. Pile 3, your eyes hold a mystery that people can’t quite put their finger on. There’s something dreamy, distant, and almost otherworldly about them
Let’s start with the obvious: People feel confused, intrigued, and just a little bit haunted when they look at you. Babe, you radiate the type of energy that makes people second-guess what they are doing. Like, they’re staring at you, trying to figure out what’s going on behind those eyes, and suddenly, they’re re-evaluating their whole existence. 💀 Your eyes hold secrets. Unspoken words. Feelings that can’t be named. They might see flickers of sadness, nostalgia, or even a past life connection that lowkey freaks them out (in a good way). But let’s be real, you don’t let people in easily. That 9 of Swords here tells me you’ve seen things. You’ve felt things. Your eyes carry the weight of emotions you don’t always verbalize, and people feel that heaviness, even if they can’t explain it.
But here’s the thing, they’re not just drawn to your depth; they’re drawn to your creativity, your softness, your quiet hope. The Page of Cups is giving, “There’s a dreamer behind these walls.” And omg, people can SENSE that. Your eyes have this soft, artistic melancholy, like someone who writes poetry or listens to sad indie songs while staring at the stars. There’s something about your gaze that commands respect. People see work ethic. Strength. Determination. Your eyes say, “I’ve worked for everything I have,” and people feel that energy before you even open your mouth. It’s giving silent resilience. Like, someone could stare into your eyes and KNOW you’ve had moments where you were tired, drained, on the edge of breaking down, but you never did. And That’s powerful.
Some people, They straight-up don’t know what to do with your energy. They look into your eyes, and suddenly, they’re questioning if they should run towards you or run away. (The Moon + 2 of Swords energy is no joke.) There’s this magnetism, but also uncertainty. You give off that, “Come closer, but only if you’re ready to see the real me” vibe. And bestie, not everyone is ready for that level of depth. Now, I HAVE to say this: If you’ve ever been told, “You’re hard to read” or “I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” just know that it’s so real. People might assume you’re guarded, mysterious, or distant, but that’s just because they don’t realize how much is happening beneath the surface. And the funniest part? Even when you do show emotion, people still question if they’re seeing the full picture.
People don’t just look into your eyes, they get lost in them. this pile is literally the most poetic and softest of the all the three. Some people see sadness, some see secrets, some see silent strength. But everyone? They see something. I hope this reading resonated with you, Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! Sending you all the love and good vibes!
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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡
Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!
#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot pick a card#pac#divination#tarot cards#pick a pile#tarotcommunity#paid tarot readings#spirituality#pick a picture#pick a photo#pick a card#pick a card reading#pac tarot#tarot deck#tarot meaning#tarot#daily tarot#tarot reader#intutive reading#intution#intuitive guidance#intuition#tarot spread#tarot of the day#tarot of the divine#tarot witch#witch community#witchblr
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she's mine
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: paige is starting to crash out a little before one of her games, and you decide to help her relax.
warnings: oral + fingering, dirty talk of course, just gentle stuff
word count: 1.6k
notes: i'm in a major slump bc i've had a migraine for 4 days and i think this lowkey doesn't match my usual style but i wanted to get something out
song: she's mine pt. 2 by j. cole
✷✷✷
paige wasn’t used to losing; that much was obvious.
she was used to being the best of the best and running her team to make sure they were. she was a leader, playmaker, and facilitator, and she usually had no problems getting her team to play along with what she wanted to run. she knew the professional league would be much different than she was used to and that the whole point of being the number one pick meant going to the worst team from the previous season, but she was struggling.
not only was she struggling to find a place where her team could work together, but she was exhausted. she had basically been on the go constantly since winning the national championship without any breaks between dallas and other media events. the losing games over stupid mistakes definitely didn’t help. she would put on a brave face and act like nothing was wrong, but you could see right through it. you knew her better than she knew herself, it felt like, so she couldn’t hide anything from you.
the morning before a home game, she had woken up at five in the morning. it was much, much earlier than she needed to be awake for her pre-game practice, let alone her game at seven that night. she managed to slip out to get some extra work in the weight room and gym before you woke up, but honestly, you weren’t that shocked when you woke up to find the spot next to you empty. you didn’t have to wonder anyway, she had sent you a text about where she was, like always.
you decided to send her a quick text of acknowledgement, then leave her to practice as you went about your morning. it really wasn’t worth saying anything about burning herself out because you knew she could handle herself and that nothing would stop her.
usually before home games, you two would go out to lunch now that you were in dallas and had many, many new places to try. today, though, you just texted her to come home because you had already ordered. you ordered jimmy john’s delivery with her favorite pre-game sandwich–a number one with no tomatoes–to hopefully put a smile on her face.
and it did. you were standing in the kitchen when she walked through the door and saw the sandwich sitting there on the coffee table in front of the couch. she smiled fondly, but you could tell it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“i gotta eat quickly,” she said. “i gotta get back for extra practice.”
you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, watching as she kicked her shoes off then sat down on the couch with her elbows resting on her knees as she unwrapped her sandwich. as much as she loved basketball, she never cut spending time with you short if she could help it. and you knew she didn’t have to today.
“paige, don’t you think you should rest?” you ask gently. you try to make sure it doesn’t sound malicious or snarky, but you don’t know if she took it that way. admittedly, you were a little frustrated with her about it, but only because she was beating herself up and not giving herself grace over something she didn’t really have control over.
“no,” she said sharply. “i was shooting like shit this morning.”
you sighed at her tone, but didn’t take it personally. you walked over to where she was sitting and grabbed the sandwich from her hand, setting it down on the table in front of her. she threw her hands up and gave you a confused look at the action.
“paige,” you scolded. though, you only said her name, she knew what you meant by it.
“i’m just a little overwhelmed. everyone expects so much from me. my field goal percentage has been terrible, like why can’t i just make them?” she confessed, letting her head drop.
you dropped to your knees in front of her, cupping her face in your hands to force her to lift her head back up. it wasn’t much of a fight and she immediately held eye contact–you were just glad her eyes weren’t glassy like she was about to cry.
“overworking yourself isn’t going to help,” you whispered.
she nodded in response. she knew that. she knew rest was as important as the work that went in–that unrested, sloppy work equals a bad performance, but this was uncharted territory for her. she was used to her effort being translated into wins, not almosts.
you leaned forward to press a slow kiss against her forehead, then another one on the tip of her nose, then finally her lips. you fully intended it to be nothing more than a soft peck, but when you tried to pull away, she chased you. and you let her. of course, who were you to pull away from your beautiful girlfriend like that?
she placed her hands on either side of your neck and kissed you slowly, yet desperately like it could cure everything that she was stressed about. it was so sensual, whether she intended it to be or not, that you had to admit that you were starting to get a little turned on. you knew that it was probably a bad idea before a game, sure, and maybe if your mind wasn’t swirling with desire, you would’ve just pulled away with some excuse about how you can pick up later.
you didn’t, though. you merely pulled away to place open-mouthed kisses to her neck, making her sigh. she let her head fall to the side and into your hand, giving you a better angle. you used your weight to gently push her back so she was leaning against the couch, making you pull your hands and mouth away from her due to your position on the floor.
“i need to be getting back soon,” she mumbled, but you could tell she wasn’t committed to you stopping.
“come on, you’ve been so stressed lately,” you whispered, running your hands over her thighs through her warm-up pants. “let me take care of you, baby.”
you almost expected her to reject you, but she just nodded her head and lifted her hips up in a silent invitation for you to pull her pants off. which you did, obviously, hooking your hands on the waistband of her pants and underwear so you could pull them off at the same time. you smiled when she was sitting there on display for you in nothing but the black tank top the league had provided for–you were so grateful for whoever gave those the okay.
you thought about teasing her, making her wait and beg for it, but you knew this wasn’t the time. instead, you just leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to her clit, causing her hand to move to rest on the back of your head with a sigh. you used one of your hands to grab her leg and lift it to give you a better angle. you licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, then wrapped your lips around it and sucked gently.
she moaned softly, letting her head fall back on the couch, but you kept your gaze trained on her–watching the expressions she made with intensity. your tongue moved through her folds slowly, then circled her clit at the same pace.
“you always know what i need,” she said breathlessly.
you smile against her, loving the praise. “i love making you feel good.”
honestly, it was pretty easy to get paige off, but she would always say it’s because she loves you and you’re hot. maybe it was true, because all you would have to do is the simplest touches and talk to her, and she was a goner.
you sped up your pace on her clit, using your fingers to trace through her folds and then finally trace circles over her entrance.
“so pretty like this, baby. spread open for me,” you said.
your words made her moan a little louder this time and her hips ground forward. you used the opportunity to push two fingers inside, making her gasp at the intrusion. you tried not to moan at the way she clenched around them, but honestly, you just loved pleasing her like this. knowing you were the one causing her body to react like this.
you curled your fingers once. then pumped them in and out, curling them each time you pushed them back in. her hips involuntarily ground against you in time with every thrust, subconsciously trying to chase her high at the feeling of your tongue and fingers working together.
“shit, just like that. ‘m gonna come,” she moaned, gripping your head to keep your head in place.
if this were any other situation, you would immediately pull away and leave her to beg, but you knew this wasn’t the time for that. you were just trying to help her blow off some steam before her game so she can relax. if you wanted her to beg for it, you could just wait until after and she would be willing. not that she wouldn’t right now, but you were feeling nice.
“that’s it. let me see you come.”
she clenched hard around your fingers and flexed her thighs as she unraveled beneath you, coming with a loud moan. you slowed your pace slightly to gently work her through it. when she came down, you stopped and pulled your fingers out, placing soft kisses along her thighs.
“thank you,” she said, ruffling the hair on top of your head playfully.
“i’m always here for you, paige.”
#paige bueckers x reader#wcbb x reader#paige bueckers fic#wlw smut#sub!paige bueckers#paige bueckers smut
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meet cute, but worse
part - 1
word count - 5.1k
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
c/w - alcohol, throwup, mostly chaos lol. very very unserious.
a/n - my first piece in all lowercase letters and tell me why it was easier to write that way😔. anyway will release the other part to this before releasing anything else. can’t tell you when that will be, i’m booked and busy for awhile but i lowkey love this so i wanna keep writing sooner rather than later! based off this prompt 🙂↕️
(also, live reacts and feedback are very much appreciated 😛)
(also also, very unedited)
this night could not possibly get any worse.
with a face of ruined makeup, a lost wallet, and a chlorine-soaked designer dress, azzi fudd really begins regretting her decision to come on this cruise with chad at all.
especially considering chad—aka the guy who convinced her to come on the cruise, aka her boyfriend, aka the man who’s supposed to stay by her side and lead her through crowded rooms with a steady hand on her waist and buy all her drinks—has officially disappeared. and now here she is, standing outside the women’s bathroom wondering where her boyfriend, who’d promised to wait for her, has gone.
furious, azzi whips her phone out of her purse (both of which are still miraculously on her person, despite her horrible luck) and immediately dials her boyfriend’s number. if he doesn’t pick up on the first goddamn ring, azzi swears to god she’ll—
it goes to voicemail.
with a frustrated grunt, azzi sends him a quick, casual text: if you don’t get your ass to the room right fucking now i swear to god chad we’re over.
satisfied with that, azzi stuffs her phone back into her purse, runs a hand over her wet braids, and begins to make the treacherous journey back to her suite.
it’s midnight, which means all the minors on the ship have officially been sent to their rooms and all the adults have ventured to their various adult activities: r-rated comedy shows, drunken karaoke, and, for the younger adults, the nightclub.
it’s an indoor club, with strobe lights and surprisingly good music and amazing drinks. there’s a pool, and a bar, and some nice bathrooms.
it is this very bathroom—and this very nightclub—that azzi makes her way out of. it’s slow, and difficult, the club packed with inebriated bodies who seem determined to keep her from leaving. as she moves through the crowd, a few people give her strange looks, or stop to ask her why her dress is sopping wet. she ignores them all. if she didn’t, she’s not sure she’d have nice things to say.
she’s nearly at the exit when there’s a commotion directly behind her. against her better judgment, azzi pauses, turning to see where the loud, rambunctious noises are coming from. she regrets her decision to do so almost immediately—it’s nothing interesting, really. just a group of tall, clearly wasted girls playfully fighting with each other. based off the way they’re (badly) singing, they obviously know the song blasting over the speakers. almost all of them have drinks in their hands and azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at the way they’re hyping each other up.
even looking at them has azzi overwhelmed—she needs to get out of here. needs to get back to the comfort of her room, where she can pull herself together and chew chad out and get a good night’s sleep.
but, just as she resumes her exit, a body slams directly into her. she’s knocked off guard and absolutely helpless in the heels she stupidly put on earlier this evening, and she lets herself fall back into the rambunctious girls with something akin to resignation. this is it. this is my life now.
luckily, a few hands shoot out to brace her as she tumbles directly into their dance session. this means she doesn’t land on her ass, which is a good thing, but it also means she is currently being touched by, like, 12 different hands, which is a very, very bad sensory thing.
once she’s righted, azzi rips herself away from their grasps as calmly as anyone can rip away from something, and finds herself in the midst of their little circle.
“my bad,” she calls over the music, hugging her arms around herself in order to keep from bumping into any more sweaty bodies. “i got pushed and—“
“you okay, girlypop?” one of the girls says.
“yeah, that looked scary!” another younger, wide-eyed girl yells over the music.
azzi tries to reassure them, but they all start talking over one another at once, asking if she’s okay and apologizing and wondering if she wants to hang out for a drink and azzi backs up, imperceptibly, trying to escape from these drunk girls—but she bumps into someone else in doing so.
from then on, it happens in slow motion.
azzi turns around.
she catches a vision of blonde hair, someone slightly taller than she is.
she prepares herself to mumble an apology.
and then, with horrifyingly little warning, blondie bends over and pukes.
directly. on. azzi’s. shoes.
“oh my god!” azzi can’t help but cry, jumping back instinctively, and the other girls yell out with her.
“oh, shit!” the girl from earlier—one of the shorter of the group, the one with twists—jumps over to stand in between the puker and azzi. she puts her hand on the still bent-over woman’s shoulders. “boogs! what the hell!”
azzi thinks the woman might mumble in response, but she can’t hear much at all over the music. and she’s also a little preoccupied staring in shock at the bile on her feet.
with a sigh, the other girl spins around to face azzi. “i am so sorry, girl. she been acting crazy all night and honestly—we shouldn’t’a even let her out.” she tries for a good-natured laugh, but azzi just stares at her, mouth agape.
“right, guys?” the girl continues nervously, but then looks around and apparently realizes that the rest of her friend group have ditched her to take care of the awkward moment. she makes an offended noise. “fake bitches,” she mumbles.
with a little shuffle, the girl comes to stand beside her obviously ill friend, grabbing her by the shoulder and patting her on the chest. “so, uh, p, i get you’re going through it right now, baby, i really do. but you just threw up on this nice lady so i think maybe we should focus on one thing at a time.”
it’s only then that azzi’s attacker finally straightens up. her hands are placed firmly over her stomach, and her face is streaked with mascara—not to mention her complexion is slightly green.
but azzi recognizes her instantly.
and, despite the fact this girl is obviously not in her right mind, she recognizes azzi, too.
“paige?” azzi says incredulously, at the same time paige slurs, “oh, no.”
the other girl looks between them a little nervously, unsure of what to do next.
except, no, she’s not the other girl. she’s kk arnold, azzi recognizes now. guard at uconn.
and those other girls…fuck. azzi replays the memory in her mind, now with their faces attached to her resurfaced knowledge. they weren’t just some group of college girls.
azzi has had a run-in with the uconn women’s basketball team.
and she’s just been thrown up on by none other than paige fucking bueckers.
so much for getting a good nights sleep tonight.
—————————————
“so, remind me how y’all know each other?” kk says as they walk up to paige’s room. she has an arm around paige’s waist, fully supporting her, and she doesn’t look all too fazed by tonight’s events. azzi gets the feeling paige throwing up on people might be a regular event. which is just…awful.
paige answers with a groan.
sighing, azzi rubs her temple, trying desperately to ignore the smell of sick wafting up from her feet. “usa basketball. we played together.”
“oh,” kk responds. “you play?”
azzi doesn’t answer, just waits. paige elbows kk. kk says, “ow!” paige says, “kk, get your head out of your ass and look at her.”
so, kk does. she looks at her for the first time since they left the club, now under the bright hallway lights rather than the dim, strobing club ones. and it’s only a moment before realization dawns on her face. “oh, shoot! paige!” she stops dead in her tracks, letting go of paige to face her. “girl, that’s azzi fudd!”
“i know, kk,” paige mumbles.
kk turns to azzi. “you say y’all played together, what, 2018?”
“2017,” azzi and paige correct at the same time. azzi tries to meet her eyes, but paige has had her head hung low this entire time. she’s either sick or deeply disturbed or both. likely both.
they continue walking, and azzi recalls her time at camp. the memories are a little hazy, faded as all memories are. but she remembers paige—how could she not? the only girl who really gave her a run for her money, the only girl who met her competitiveness head-on. they played—well, they played amazingly together, oddly enough. azzi remembers she never really wanted to talk to the girl, who seemed loud and arrogant and overwhelming. but their chemistry on the court, without ever speaking to each other, was incredible.
she does have one very clear memory: the plane ride back. she’d been sitting in her seat, ready for the flight, when paige had hesitated beside her while walking down the aisle.
azzi had looked up, curious. “hi.”
paige’s cheeks had flushed bright red, which seemed completely out of character for the girl azzi had thought she was. “oh, uh. hey.”
azzi stayed silent.
paige scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “hey, i, um.” it looked like she was trying to convince herself to say something—almost like she was building courage to say it. a little flicker of something bubbled in azzi’s chest. anticipation, maybe? she doesn’t know; she’s never been able to figure out what that feeling meant.
all she knows is she felt disappointment when paige had sighed defeatedly and said, “can i put my bag in your overhead?”
she’d nodded. paige had said thank you. and they’ve never spoken again.
“yeah, yeah,” kk waves them off, hauling paige the rest of the way down the hall. “whatever. basically, i’m tryna say, it’s been seven years since then, right?”
azzi presses the up button, then leans against the wall. “yeah…”
“well, paige has had a massive crush on you for about eight of them.”
in an instant, kk is turned around, paige’s front pressed to her back as they lowkey wrestle. paige has a hand slapped over kk’s mouth, but that doesn’t stop her evil cackling from coming through.
paige glances over her shoulder. “she’s lying.”
azzi watches the commotion, and thinks such a scene wouldn’t have been made if kk was really lying. “uh-huh.”
“serious,” paige insists. it’s the most emotion azzi has heard from her tonight.
“okay.” the door dings open, and azzi sucks in a deep breath, being the first to step inside. “well, uh…”
kk wrangles out of paige’s grip, walking somewhat sassily into the elevator. “yeah, let’s go. p!”
paige glowers at them across the threshold.
“c’mon, girly. get in here.”
they have to hold the doors open, but eventually, and not looking particularly happy about it, paige steps inside.
azzi begins to regret agreeing to go to her room with them.
————————————
“ok, take those shoes off, stink,” kk instructs as soon as they enter paige’s suite. azzi doesn’t hesitate to comply, slipping out of her heels without looking at them, careful not to dip her toes in any throw-up. although she’s sure there are more than a few fangirls who’d sell their soul for some paige bueckers bodily fluids.
once she’s out of them, she hovers by the door awkwardly, and kk and paige exchange a glance. they obviously have some sort of silent conversation within the second-long look, because it has kk laughing. “you’re funny.”
“please,” paige murmurs.
“hell, no. you puke it, you nuke it.”
“that doesn’t rhyme, stupid-head.”
azzi watches them, a small, amused smile coming over her face despite herself.
“wait, what?” kk says, leaning her ear towards Paige.
“i said—“
“ever,” kk interrupts with a wide grin. “now go nuke those nasty shoes, for real.” kk glances at azzi and gives her a once-over before saying, “and get fudd-fudd some dry clothes while you’re at it.”
leaning down, paige grabs the shoes by the heels and grumbles something as she disappears into the bedroom. once she’s gone, kk ushers azzi further inside, leading her into the kitchen. “so,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “you in love with her yet, or what?”
azzi scoffs. “she’s not exactly charming.”
“oh, no, she real charming.” kk glances at the closed bedroom door, then leans forward, motioning for azzi to step closer. when she does, kk lowers her voice. “she just gets nervous around you.”
“i haven’t talked to paige in years,” azzi says, a little confused. a crush, she understands—many people have had crushes on azzi before. but no way paige gets nervous around her, when they’re never even around each other to begin with.
“nah, but you notice how we’ve never won a game against y’all?” kk asks.
“yeah.” of course azzi’s noticed. most people have—uconn is the team to beat, but in the four years azzi’s been in college, they’ve never once won against ucla.
“ever wonder why?”
“because we’re better than you,” azzi responds all too quickly.
kk makes an unamused face at her. “no, it’s because paige is too busy having wet fantasies about you instead of playing the damn game.“
azzi waves this off. “excuses.”
“i’m being serious.” kk nudges her in the arm, then pulls her a little closer, once again lowering her voice. “and you wanna know something else?”
azzi sighs like she doesn’t, but really, she does—she’s always been too nosey for her own good. “tell me.”
“every girl p’s ever hooked up with is a mixed baller with curly hair and brown eyes. and if she has dimples, paige lets her stay the night.”
azzi downright barks out a laugh at this one. “i’m starting to think you’re making all this shit up.”
“just watch,” kk says cryptically. “you’ll see.”
azzi wants to ask more—like, is it confirmed that paige has wet fantasies about her?—but the bedroom door opens and azzi turns her head to see paige standing in the doorway, a pair of clothes bundled in her arms. azzi does her best to keep a straight face but she must look a little guilty because paige narrows her eyes at them. “what were y’all talking about?”
“how i been constipated lately,” kk says a little too quickly. azzi valiantly keeps her expression neutral. “azzi was giving me advice.”
azzi nods somberly. paige looks borderline mortified, which is not a look azzi ever thought she’d see on someone like her. “can you try to be cool for once?” she asks kk.
“you’re the one who puked on her,” kk says. “if she could get scared away, she wouldn’t be here.”
paige sighs, stepping closer, into the kitchen with them. her cheeks are tinged pink, from alcohol or kk’s antics or—maybe something else, azzi thinks as paige avoids eye contact with her while handing over the pair of clothes. “uh, here.”
“thanks,” azzi says. she reaches for the clothes, letting her right hand just brush paige’s own before pulling back, watching for a reaction. there’s not much, but when paige’s hands are free, she shakes out the right one as if she’s been shocked.
azzi makes a little mental note. interesting. very interesting.
“you can change, um, back there,” paige says, throwing a thumb back over her shoulder before scratching awkwardly at her neck. “or, like, wherever, i’on care.”
azzi’s eyebrows raise on their own accord. paige opens her mouth, then closes it, then says, “i mean, you could also go to the bathroom or sum’. obviously you shouldn’t change, like, here. that’d be—weird.“
“riiiight,” azzi drawls, a small, amused smile playing on her face.
“so, uh, yeah.” paige sidesteps, motioning for azzi to pass. “go ‘head.”
——————————————
once she’s on her own, she takes it in—the privacy, the quiet. it’s been a long fucking night. she cannot wait to get to her own room and just sleep.
well, she’ll need a shower first. shower, then sleep. or maybe she’ll even indulge in a bath. the mere thought of it has her shoulders relaxing.
but then, her phone buzzes inside her purse. and her shoulders are tense all over again, because that’s got to be chad—texting her back thirty minutes late—and since when does she want to deal with chad?
a bit reluctantly, she pulls her phone out of her purse. it’s only at five percent and so she ignores all her other notifications, going straight to she and chad’s messages.
sure enough, he’s just responded to her last text: sorry baby, got caught up lmfaooo. you tryna fuck tn?
and then, sry for pushing u in the pool fr
waiting for you in da room
well, fuck.
that’s the first thing that crosses azzi’s mind. because, after the shit he’s pulled tonight—and every other night in the two months they’ve been together, honestly—they’re over. she’s done. which means she’ll either have to fight with him for their room for the rest of the trip, or sleep by the goddamn pool. and confrontation has never been her thing.
tossing her phone onto the bed, azzi discards of her purse, as well, before reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. her day might have been shit, but at least she finally gets to take this stupid dress off.
she fumbles a little before grabbing hold of the zipper. she pulls, and it gives about an inch before abruptly stopping.
furrowing her eyebrows, azzi pinches the zipper harder between her fingertips. pull, give. stop.
“shit,” azzi murmurs. this time, when she tries again, it doesn’t give at all, just says firmly stuck in place.
she already knows pulling it over her head or down her hips is out of the question—the dress shrunk like two sizes in the water. no way this thing is making it over her hips or shoulders without some leeway. so now here she is, stranded in the middle of paige bueckers’ room with a soaking wet dress and a broken zipper.
she considers marching out of this place without another word, going to her own room, fighting briefly with chad over it, and then cutting the damn thing off. but then she’d have to walk, shoeless, through the entire ship. and confrontation still isn’t her thing.
sighing, azzi tucks away her pride and goes over to the door, peeking her head out. the girls are still in the kitchen. paige’s back is turned, but azzi can see kk, and she has an amused smile on her face as they speak in hushed whispers. paige sounds mad about something.
azzi clears her throat.
paige visibly tenses, and kk’s smile only grows as she slowly turns around, looking very much afraid.
“uh,” azzi says, unsure what to make of the whole ordeal. “my zipper is stuck. i need help.”
god, please let kk volunteer, please let kk volunteer, no seriously, please let—
“paige volunteers as tribute,” kk says, shoving paige forward.
paige chokes. “no i don’t!”
“least you can do after throwing up on her,” kk says.
“that’s not fair,” paige argues. azzi would beg to differ, but she’s keeping her mouth firmly shut in the hopes of avoiding a potentially very awkward situation.
kk raises an eyebrow. paige sighs. then, resolve washes over her features, and azzi lets out a disappointed breath. fuck.
“okay, fine. sure.” paige is grumbling, eyes downcast as she heads toward the bedroom, and azzi shoots kk a dirty look before closing the door behind the two of them.
paige stands in the middle of the room, playing nervously with her fingers. azzi lets them sit in the awkward silence for a few moments before realizing paige is waiting for further direction.
“uh, yeah,” azzi says, stepping up to her before turning around. she grabs once again at the zipper, pulling it to show paige how stuck it is. “it’s not budging.”
paige takes a step closer, and azzi’s entire body tenses at the proximity. she doesn’t dare look over her shoulder, but she can feel paige, the drunken warmth radiating off her body, and she can hear her breathing. it’s without warning that paige’s fingers come to fiddle with the zipper, her knuckles brushing between azzi’s shoulder blades, and her body thrums with…something.
she is not usually like this when somebody has a crush on her. but she’s fresh off a self-proclaimed breakup and maybe that’s what’s making her feel so inexplicably tense.
“yeah,” paige says after giving the zipper a few tugs. “it definitely looks broken.”
azzi doesn’t say anything. every time she thinks she’s hit rock bottom, something else gets thrown at her. first the pool, then the throw-up, then a broken zipper. and through it all, chad. none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for him, azzi thinks bitterly.
“we can try getting it off without unzipping it,” paige suggests. azzi turns her head to the side, not enough to see paige behind her, but enough to try and gain some composure. because paige implying that they will both pull this dress off of her leaves her warm.
“i already tried,” azzi says instead of agreeing, which is something she weirdly wants to do. despite knowing the dress won’t come off if it’s zipped, she wouldn’t mind letting paige try. maybe letting her pull the straps down her shoulders, or even lift the skirt over her hips…
okay, azzi. snap the fuck out of it.
in an attempt to salvage the situation, azzi blurts, “scissors.”
paige chokes. azzi closes her eyes in a silent acceptance of defeat. the universe is definitely out for her.
“wha—?” paige starts, but azzi doesn’t let her finish before whirling around with a casual smile, “i meant, we might need to get scissors. like, to cut the dress off.”
“oh,” paige says, her mouth forming a little ‘O’ of understanding. “okay. yeah. uh, you sure you wanna cut it?”
the thought of trying to save this dress is almost laughable. it may have been expensive, but it was also a gift from the very same man who ruined it by pushing her into the pool. “yeah,” she says. “positive.”
paige makes a face at the dark tone of azzi’s voice, but luckily doesn’t question it. “oo-kay,” she drawls, turning to the nightstand and rummaging through one of the drawers.
“so, uh,” paige says as she searches, “how’d your dress get like that, anyway?”
soaked. she means soaked. “got pushed into the pool,” azzi says.
“oh, shoot.” paige glances over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. “by who?”
“my boyfriend,” azzi says, nearly shuddering at the words. then, pleasantly, she remembers he’s not her boyfriend anymore—even though he doesn’t know that yet. “well, my ex-boyfriend.”
“your boyfriend pushed you in the pool?” paige asks. she sounds a little outraged, and, upon finding the scissors, she spins around with them in hand.
“ex-boyfriend,” azzi corrects. “i mean, as of a few minutes ago.”
“well, shit.” paige walks back over to her. “fuck him.”
azzi’s first reaction is to get defensive—she’s spent two months month defending chad to all her friends—but she doesn’t have to do that anymore, so instead she nods decisively. “yeah, fuck him.”
it’s then that paige smiles—the first time azzi’s seen it tonight—and it’s this shy, timid smile, so different from the overconfident, giddy one she gets in games. it’s clear she’s horrible at hiding her little crush and usually that would ick azzi out, but on paige it’s almost…endearing?
and for some reason, butterflies flutter in her tummy at the sight of it.
“okay,” azzi says, turning around in an attempt to crush the moment. “go ahead.”
“should i just cut along the zipper?” paige asks. azzi nods, motioning back towards herself. “do your worst.”
“alright,” paige says, a hint of doubt in her voice. she starts cutting nonetheless. azzi feels nothing but satisfaction at the first snip—she’s glad to be rid of this thing. when she gets home, she’ll burn everything else that fuckass man gave her, too. paige is, in a way, doing god’s work by cutting it.
“so,” paige says as she works. “what’s your boyfriend’s name?”
azzi winces. “uh, chad.”
paige pauses her snipping. “for real?”
“yeah,” azzi says sheepishly, before once again saying, “and he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“right,” paige replies, tone thick with humor. “so, chad pushed you into the pool while you were wearing this nice dress. and then you broke up with him?”
“well…” azzi trails off—leave it to paige bueckers to make her feel dumb. “i mean, he disappeared on me afterwards, and then he didn’t respond to my texts until like ten minutes ago, so…”
“so he pushed you into the pool, acted crazy, and then you broke up with him.” paige says it like a statement, which makes azzi really hesitant to disclose the whole story.
“i mean, yeah,” she mutters.
paige picks up on the way the sentence lilts guiltily. “bruh.”
“i guess i haven’t actually broken up with him,” azzi is quick to say, paige’s judgmental gaze burning into the skin of her back. “but i did it in my head.”
“in your…” paige must think better of asking more questions, because she just sighs before pulling her hands away from azzi’s dress. “whatever, girl. i’m done.”
azzi turns to face her. “stop that.”
“stop what?”
“judging me.”
paige raises her eyebrows. “i’ll stop when you actually break up with him.”
it’s supposed to come as a joke, but for some reason, azzi takes it as a challenge. almost like she’d do anything for paige’s approval. which is stupid, because paige is clearly an unexpectedly dorky lesbian who just so happens to be hot and athletic.
(it won’t take long for azzi to realize she has a very specific taste in women.)
“fine,” azzi says. and then she, who has never been one to take life advice from virtual strangers, marches to the bed, grabs her phone, and navigates once again to chad’s contact. she tells herself it’s just so she’ll be able to sleep in their room tonight rather than avoiding him the rest of the trip. it’s not really true.
he answers on the fourth ring (typical). it’s nothing but a simple, “yo.” she hates him.
paige puts her hands on her hips, clearly a little surprised that azzi’s actually doing this, but daring her to see it through nonetheless. azzi switches to speakerphone. “chad,” she says, a little unsure of how to go about this. all of her previous breakups have been mutual, cordial. this…
oh, she hates him.
“wassup, baby.” he has the audacity to sound a little annoyed at being bothered, and azzi takes a deep breath to compose herself.
“chad, we gotta talk.”
there’s a long, dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. “is this about the pool? because if it’s about the pool it’s gotta wait ‘till tomorrow. i’m too tired for that shit.”
paige’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline, before furrowing in disbelief, her mouth dropping open a little.
azzi just nods.
“asshole,” paige mouths.
“actually,” azzi says, “i’m breaking up with you.”
silence. then, a bark of laughter. “yeah. aight.”
“i’m being serious.”
“whatever you say, azzi.” he sounds equal-parts amused, equal-parts irritated. “look, just come back up to the room before it gets too late. you know i’ll make it up to you.”
paige sticks her tongue out, pointing a finger into her mouth and gagging.
azzi rolls her eyes. “you wanna know something, chad?”
“what,” he says, barely interested anymore. (he has the attention span of a goldfish with adhd.)
“we’ve been together for how long?”
“uhh…” chad drawls.
“two months,” she informs him. “and in that amount of time, how many times have we fucked?”
“shit, i’on know,” he says, sounding a little more amused now, like he’s in for a treat. he has no idea.
“a lot, chad. and do you have any idea how many orgasms i’ve had in that amount of time?”
dead silence. she almost wonders if he’s hung up. paige is looking at her like she’s crazy, or maybe like she’s an angel descended from heaven itself. azzi focuses back on the phone. “zero. you have made me come literally zero times.”
another laugh, this time more awkward. “azzi, c’mon, bro—“
“so no, i would not like you to make it up to me tonight, or ever,” she continues, gaining a little momentum now. “your tiny-ass dick could never. and if you don’t get the fuck up outta that room so i can sleep tonight, then i’m—“
“hollup, you’re being serious?” chad interrupts.
“yes,” she says—he never did take her seriously. “so you need to find somewhere else to stay because—“
“hell nah,” chad interrupts once again, this time sounding straight-up affronted. “i’m not giving you the room just because you’re deciding to go batshit on me. you can have it when you come to your senses tomorrow, baby.”
rage seethes, hot and quiet, through azzi’s very marrow. she hates being condescended. hates being spoken down to. hates not being believed. she is going to tear his ass in two.
she glances up at paige. paige has now found a seat on the bed and is watching with wide eyes, looking like she needs a bag of popcorn. looking undeniably fine, somehow, even after throwing up on azzi and then proceeding to have the most awkwardly obvious crush on her. looking undeniably edible, to be completely frank.
and then—
oh, and then.
“fine,” azzi says, holding the speaker right up to her mouth so chad won’t miss a single word of what she’s about to say. “don’t give me the room. i got somebody else to stay with.”
“yeah? who?” chad asks. she can picture his stupid smile as he says it.
“paige,” azzi says, ignoring the quizzical look paige is sending her. “an old friend.”
“paige?” he says, clearly confused.
“yeah,” she continues. “and if you don’t give me that room back…” she avoids paige’s gaze for this part, or else she wouldn’t have the balls to do it, “then i’m gonna stay here. and i’m gonna get fucked by paige bueckers.”
there’s a sharp, nervous laugh. “you’re lying through your fucking teeth, azzi.”
“wanna find out?” azzi asks, hoping he doesn’t call her on her bluff.
“yeah, actually,” he says. “i’m using the room tonight. and let’s see if you’ve fucked paige bueckers by morning.”
with that, a click. the line is dead.
paige’s jaw is on the floor.
azzi squeezes her eyes shut.
okay, so azzi stands corrected. the night has, officially, gotten worse.
#pazzi#azzi fudd#pazzi fics#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#wcbb#wbb#this is so stupid#don’t take this serious please#i’m just making myself giggle
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TOO LATE



Even after all the promises he made, Jungkook was too late.
➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader
➪ GENRE; angst, light fluff
➪ TAGS/WARNINGS; mafia au, ANGST, blood, violence, attempted sa (not in detail), use of weapons, major character death, swearing, light fluff, mingyu cameo
➪ WORDCOUNT; 12.3k
𐚁₊⊹
You sat at the dinner table alone. Again. The food that was once warm was now completely cold and untouched on your plate. The atmosphere around you felt heavy. The familiar silence continued to outstretch and the only sound that accompanied you was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
The bodyguards stationed in the corners of the dining hall remained expressionless as they stood like statues. You were beginning to get sick of their presence and how it constantly reminded you of the world your fiancé belonged to. A world that you had stepped into because of love, but now, you weren’t sure if love was enough to keep you there.
It was the fifth time this week that you ate dinner alone. It was becoming a routine you didn’t sign up for. On normal days, Jungkook would sit across from you and tease you about the way you always saved your favorite bite for last, or playfully steal food off your plate.
Meal times were your little escape. It was a time when Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the feared leader of a ruthless mafia gang, but just your Jungkook — the man who would hold your hand under the table and kiss you between bites when he’d get the chance.
But lately, he’d been distant. His seat was empty more often than you were used to, and his presence was fading like a dream slipping through your fingers.
Jungkook wasn’t just any ordinary man. He was a king in the underworld. He was a leader that commanded respect and instilled fear in those who considered themselves fearless. He built his empire on discipline and strategy, knowing how to put people in their place without mercy.
He never harmed the innocent though, but when it came to threats, he was quick and remorseless. Drugs, weapons, and underground dealings — he was entangled in all of it. He moved each piece like a master chess player. He lost count of the number of enemies he made along the way, men who wanted nothing more than to see him fall from his grace. But Jungkook was always one step ahead of them. He always prepared with his mind sharper than any blade.
To the world, he was cold, ruthless, and terrifying. His eyes alone were enough to make someone’s legs tremble, or in most cases, wet their pants. He was like a shadow that lingered over the city, and his name was usually whispered in fear.
But to you, he was different.
When it came to you, Jungkook’s walls would fall apart. The hardness in his gaze would melt the moment he would see you. His dark eyes would soften in a way they never did for anyone else. You were his only safe space. Only you could ground him to his senses and to gain control of himself again.
He adored you, and protected you with a devotion that sometimes felt overwhelming. The only reason he had so many bodyguards surrounding you was because of the countless threats he faced daily. Losing you was the one nightmare he couldn’t afford.
You were his world, his universe.
And yet, despite his love for you, you saw the side of him that people knew him for. The side of him that made others fear him. You saw what he was capable of and how easily he could take a life when it was necessary.
Jungkook tried not to scare you off or worry you by coming home covered in blood. But the days where he would, the scent of iron that clung to his clothes was sickening in many ways. He never let his victims go easily, and that was the scariest part of loving him. No matter how gentle he was with you, you couldn’t ignore the darkness beneath his skin.
You knew people whispered about you behind closed doors, calling you insane for staying by his side. Loving a man like Jungkook was dangerous. But despite everything, you couldn’t walk away.
Maybe they were right. Maybe you were insane.
Jungkook was always busy, but he was never too busy for you. He would make time, whether it was a quick coffee break together or late-night conversations in bed when the rest of the world was asleep.
But lately, things had changed. As his nights grew longer, his time with you became shorter. You saw that stress was wearing him down, and with each day that passed, he became more distant.
But to you, it wasn’t the lack of time — it was his attitude.
He was different now, or rather, colder. Some nights, he wouldn’t even bother coming to bed, and choose to drown himself in work instead. And when he did, he was exhausted and barely spoke a word to you before drifting off into another cycle of restless sleep.
Other times, he would lash out and let his frustration spill over onto you in sharp words and tense silences. He was never physically violent — Jungkook would rather die than hurt you that way — but his emotional distance was hurting you just as deep.
At first, you brushed it off, assuming he was stressed and had too much on his plate. He would usually come back to you when things settled down. But as the days passed, you realised the hurt was sinking in.
You missed him. You missed the version of him who would hold you in his arms and promise to keep you safe, who would kiss your lips forehead and tell you how much he loved you. You missed the way he used to smile at you like you were his entire world.
Now, it felt like he was drifting away from you, and you didn’t know how to hold on.
A part of you wanted to confront him and demand to know what was going on. But another part of you — the part that saw his darkest side — hesitated. You weren’t afraid of Jungkook, but you were afraid of pushing him further away.
So you stayed silent, and swallowed the loneliness that was slowly suffocating you.
As you sat there at the empty dinner table, staring at the untouched food, you wondered how much longer you could keep pretending that everything was okay.
And more than that. You wondered if Jungkook even noticed that you were hurting.
You were tired of Jungkook’s attitude. Tired of the way he barely spared you a glance when he was home. Tired of feeling like you were the only one holding onto this relationship while he let it slip through his fingers. You tried to be understanding, tried to be patient, but the loneliness was eating you alive.
It wasn’t just about him being busy anymore. It was about how he treated you. The hurtful words, the cold silences, the way he acted like your presence was an afterthought. You weren’t asking for much, just a little bit of his time, a moment where he could look at you like he used to, where you could feel like you mattered.
But it had been weeks since you had last felt his warmth. And you couldn’t take it anymore.
You decided that tonight, when he came home, you would talk to him. No more bottling up your emotions, no more pretending you were okay when you weren’t. You needed to know where you stood in his life.
At the same time, you prayed he wouldn’t lash out.
Your appetite was long gone at this point. You got up from the chair with your untouched plate of food and walked into the kitchen. You felt drained and your heart heavy with everything you had been suppressing for too long. You didn’t even notice Jungkook entering the house.
The moment he stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes landed on you just as you were dumping your food into the bin.
“Seriously, Y/n?” he spoke up. “Wasting food again? Why the hell do you even cook if you’re not going to eat?” he said in irritation.
Your body tensed at his words, and slowly, anger flared inside you. You spun around and placed the plate into the sink with more force than necessary, and the loud clatter echoed in the kitchen. Your patience finally ran out.
“You tell me, Jungkook,” you snapped as your eyes burned with unshed tears.
“Why am I doing this? Why do I sit at that damn table every night, waiting for you like a fool? Why do I keep hoping you’ll come home and actually spend time with me?” your voice cracked with frustration and hurt.
“Fuck, I’m not doing this with you anymore” Jungkook let out a long sigh, and ran his tattooed hand through his already disheveled hair before turning away, as if he had no energy to argue. But that only fueled your anger even more.
“Do what?” you snapped, “have a decent and mature conversation?”
You clenched your fists. “You know what, Jungkook? I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of your attitude. I get that you’re busy, I get that your world is dangerous, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like this. I’m not your enemy. I’m not someone you can just ignore until it’s convenient for you.”
Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but you pushed forward because you were unable to stop the words spilling from your lips. “All I want is for you to spare some time for me. Just a little. Because I miss you. I miss us. Why can’t you understand that?”
Jungkook exhaled sharply, as if he was barely holding onto his patience. “Like I said, Y/n, I’m not doing this with you. I don’t have time for this. I have another mission to go to” his voice was firm and cold, but the worst part was the way he wouldn’t even look at you.
“I want you to stay in the house. Don’t go out. Understand me?” it was only then when his dark eyes finally met yours. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made your stomach twist. A warning almost.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Another mission? Seriously? Again?” your voice was rising now, the pain overtaking your restraint.
“What the hell is up with you lately? We’ve been together for almost seven years, and I’ve never seen you like this!”
Jungkook’s expression hardened, but you pressed on. “Please,” your voice softened, cracking towards the end.
“I just want to spend time with you. It’s been so long, Jungkook. I miss you. I miss your kisses. I miss your warmth and your stupid little jokes” your eyes shimmered with tears while your chest ached. “I don’t need grand gestures, I just need you. Can’t you give me that?”
For a split second, something sort of guilt and regret flickered in Jungkook’s eyes. You weren’t sure. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by frustration.
“Well, I can’t fucking be there for you twenty-four-seven Y/n!” he snapped. “I have important things to take care of! I run a mafia gang, do you get that? I have responsibilities that you can’t even begin to understand!”
You flinched at the venom in his words, but he wasn’t done.
“Why can’t you just understand that? Why do you have to be so needy and clingy every single day?” his voice kept rising. “Just get over it already!”
His words hit you harder than any bullet ever could.
Needy. Clingy. As if wanting to be with him was a burden. As if your love, your presence, was nothing but an inconvenience.
You stared at him as your heart shattered into a million pieces, and in that moment, you realised something. You weren’t sure if the man standing in front of you was the same Jungkook you had fallen in love with.
And worse. You weren’t sure if you could keep waiting for him to come back.
But there’s always a second side of a story.
Two weeks ago, a small group of Jungkook’s highly skilled men were shot down by a rival gang in a brutal ambush that shook the very foundation of his organisation. Since then, he had been working tirelessly to track them down. He spent sleepless nights planning counterattacks, calling in reinforcements, and trying to ensure the safety of what remained of his team.
But with that responsibility came an unbearable level of stress, and that stress had started to take a toll on him. He became more irritable and more distant. His patience wore thinner each day, and when he wasn’t out dealing with gang matters, he spent what little time he had at home in a constant state of frustration. The worst part was that you became an unintentional victim of his temper.
You tried to be understanding. You knew his world was dangerous and the pressure he was under. But that didn’t make it any easier when he lashed out at you. That didn’t make it hurt any less when he acted like you were just another problem on his never-ending list of things to deal with.
And tonight was no different.
The moment the words left his mouth, you felt the sting of them like a slap. You flinched slightly, and your body tensed as your vision blurred with more tears.
Jungkook’s anger wavered when he saw your expression shift. He didn’t mean to raise his voice like that. He didn’t mean to let his exhaustion get the better of him. But it was too late. Your heart was already breaking.
Tears finally began to cascade down your cheeks, and the sight made Jungkook curse under his breath. He hated seeing you cry. He hated being the reason for your pain, yet lately, it felt like he was doing nothing but hurting you. That realisation made his chest twist with an ache that wasn’t just guilt but something more. Something he couldn’t quite put into words.
Sighing, he took a slow step towards you. You instinctively took a small step back, but he closed the distance before you could put any real space between you. His large hands reached out, and he hesitated for a brief second before finally cupping your face gently.
His calloused fingers brushed against your soft skin as he wiped the tears from your cheeks, his touch softer than his words had been moments ago.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice now quieter and gentler.
You hesitated but slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. His dark eyes, though still clouded with fatigue, now held regret. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing against your damp skin.
“I didn’t mean to say any of that. You know how busy and stressed I am. It’s not that I don’t want to make time for you…” his voice trailed off for a moment before he sighed again.
“I just…don’t know how to balance everything right now.”
Jungkook let out another deep sigh as his hands moved to hold you by the waist, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know it’s not a good reason to lash out at you like that. I’m really sorry for that baby. You know I love you” his dark eyes searched yours, like he silently pleaded for your forgiveness.
“I know how much you miss me and need me,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Trust me, I do too. But once everything is settled down, you can have me all you want. I swear baby” his thumb gently brushed over your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears.
“But for now…I have to fix things first. You just have to wait a little longer for me.” Jungkook was beyond exhausted. It was obvious he was drowning under the pressure of his responsibilities.
“You know I want to keep you safe from all these bad people,” he mumbled, his voice breaking slightly at the end. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Before you could respond, he leaned down and closed the distance between you as his lips captured yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
It was slow and desperate, like a silent plea for you to understand his world and his burdens. The warmth of his lips, despite the cold winter outside, against yours sent shivers down your spine. But as your body melted into his embrace, you felt a tear slip down your cheek, mixing with the kiss.
A small cry escaped your mouth. You were overwhelmed with the emotions pouring out of you. Jungkook immediately pulled away, his brows furrowing as he cupped your face once more. His fingers traced over your soft skin delicately, as if you were something fragile — something he already damaged too much.
“Please don’t cry baby. I’m sorry for everything,” he pleaded with his voice strained with guilt. His hands trembled slightly as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs, and pressed gentle kisses on your damp cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Fuck, I’m such a dick” he shook his head, angry with himself. His own emotions were raw as his walls crumbled in front of you. And you could see it — the pain, the exhaustion, the love.
He pulled you into a tight hug and wrapped his arms around you without saying another word. You laid your head on his sturdy chest and felt the heat radiating from his body, and the soft vibrations of his heartbeat against your ear. His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm you down with his hand stroking your back soothingly.
You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of his arms. It was moments like this that reminded you why you had fallen for him in the first place. Because beneath the tough exterior, beneath the leader of a dangerous mafia gang, he was still Jungkook. The same man who loved you, the same man who would do anything to protect you.
Minutes passed in silence and the tension slowly eased between you. Your body had stopped trembling and the tears had finally stopped flowing.
When you pulled away a little, your gaze softened slightly as you took in his appearance. It was only now that you truly noticed how exhausted he looked — the slight bags under his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders carried the weight of the world.
That was when you saw it — a small cut on his lower lip, a bruise darkening his cheekbone.
You let out a small gasp. “You’re hurt.”
Jungkook blinked, confused for a second, before realising what you were looking at. He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”
You reached up without thinking. Your fingers ghosted over the bruise, careful not to apply too much pressure. His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, and for a moment, everything else faded — the fights, the frustration, the distance.
“You got this on your mission, didn’t you?” you asked quietly. He didn’t answer immediately, but his silence was enough of an answer.
Jungkook let out another sigh as he dropped his hands from your face, running them through his hair instead. “Some of my men were shot down by a rival gang,” he finally admitted. “And because of that, the number of people I trust has gone down. I’ve been working non-stop to recruit the right men for my team. I just want to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
He paused and glanced away for a second before looking back at you. “It’s not an easy job. I have to take care of so many things at once. The missions, the team, making sure no one else gets killed…”
He exhaled sharply. “It’s stressing me out so much.”
You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, even see it in the way his shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of everything he carried was finally starting to crush him.
For the first time in weeks, you saw something unfiltered, something vulnerable in him. You reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his. He looked down at the small gesture as his thumb brushed absentmindedly against your skin.
“I know it’s not easy,” you murmured.
“And I know you’re under a lot of pressure. But Jungkook, I don’t want to be just another thing you have to deal with. I don’t want to feel like a burden to you. I want to be someone who you could talk to whenever you’re feeling like this.”
His eyes snapped up to yours instantly, almost in panic. “You’re not a burden baby” he said quickly. “Never.”
You swallowed hard. “Then stop treating me like one.”
For a long moment, there was silence. And then, for the first time in weeks, Jungkook let his guard down completely. He pulled you into his arms and held you tightly, as if he was afraid you would slip through away from him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I don’t mean to push you away. I just…I don’t want you to get caught up in all this. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You closed your eyes, exhaling softly against his chest. “I just want you, Jungkook. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
And for now, that was enough.
Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud grumble from your stomach. Jungkook pulled back slightly with a small smirk playing on his lips. “Princess, you’re hungry.”
You frowned, “I don’t want to eat” you mumbled under your breath.
Jungkook sighed and shook his head. “You have to baby. You can’t go to bed with an empty stomach” he tried to be firm.
He glanced at his watch to check the time. He only had about ten minutes of spare time before he had to go back to work. “Come on, let’s eat,” he said and gently pulled you away from his chest. You hesitated for a moment before finally nodding.
Jungkook held your hand as he led you further into the kitchen. He reheated his food while making sure to put an extra portion on your plate. His movements were casual, yet there was something comforting about the way he cared for you. The two of you then sat down at the dining table and enjoyed the peaceful meal together, something that became rare due to his responsibilities.
Between bites, you couldn’t help but smile. “This is really good, babe,” he complimented as he looked at you with his dark brown eyes. His voice was soft. He wasn’t the ruthless gang leader everyone feared — he was just Jungkook. Your Jungkook.
You grinned as you chewed, feeling content. “I wish you were home more often to taste my great food,” you pouted, playfully nudging his arm. You knew he loved your cooking, and you took pride in the fact that, despite his dangerous life, he still found comfort in the meals you made for him.
“I know, I’m so—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the dining room door suddenly burst open. One of his men entered in a rush, panting as if he had run across the entire mansion. You were startled at the sudden entrance, and Jungkook noticed. His relaxed demeanour vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard expression he was fearfully known for.
He hated being interrupted, especially when he was with you.
“Boss, everyone is ready to leave. The Ravenclaw gang should be there any moment,” the man reported urgently.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched while his grip on his fork tightened until his knuckles turned white. The entire room seemed to darken as his expression shifted. Without warning, he slammed his fork onto the table. You flinched once again at the sound, feeling your breath catching in your throat as you placed a hand over your chest.
He abruptly pushed his chair back and stood up, his movements swift and intimidating. Without hesitation, he grabbed the boy by the collar, yanking him forward and slamming him against the wall. The boy let out a startled gasp, his eyes widening in terror.
“You know I fucking hate when people burst through the door without knocking and interrupting me,” Jungkook growled, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightened and knuckles turned even paler as he held the boy in place.
The boy gulped as his entire body trembled. He knew he had screwed up — badly. “I-I’m sorry, b-boss,” he stuttered.
Jungkook’s eyes flashed with unrelenting fury. “I made this rule very fucking clear when I recruited you, and you still can’t follow it?!” he barked.
You watched the scene unfold with a pounding heart. You knew Jungkook had a temper, but it was worse tonight. He was already on edge, and this interruption had only set him off further. While his anger was understandable, you could tell he was overreacting.
It wasn’t just about the boy barging in — it was everything. The stress, the pressure, the constant weight of leading an empire. He never got a moment to breathe, never got a second to just be himself. And now, he was taking it all out on this poor boy.
You saw Jungkook’s hand twitch and his fingers subtly moving toward his waistline. Your eyes widened in alarm as you realised what he was about to do.
He was reaching for his gun.
Panic surged through you as you shot up from your chair and rushed towards him. Without thinking, you grabbed his arm and held onto him tightly. “Koo, please calm down,” you pleaded, your voice gentle yet firm.
“He just made a mistake. Let him go. Please.”
Jungkook’s body was tense with barely restrained rage beneath your touch. You tightened your grip on his arm, your fingers pressing into his skin. “Please,” you repeated softly, looking up at him.
Silence filled the room. Jungkook’s chest rose and fell with each deep inhale he took. His grip on the boy’s collar slowly loosened, only slightly, but his jaw remained clenched. He looked at you before finally exhaling a sharp breath.
With one last glare he shoved the boy away, releasing him from his death grip. The boy stumbled back, visibly shaken, but he didn’t dare make a sound.
Jungkook slowly lowered his hand and slipped his gun back into place. His entire body was still rigid, but he had listened to you. He always did.
“Get out and wait in the car with the others. I’ll be there soon,” he snapped at the boy. His tone left no room for argument. The boy nodded frantically and bolted out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him as he did.
You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as your grip on Jungkook’s arm loosened. He was still tense, his jaw tight, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
You frowned as you looked at Jungkook. “What was that there? He looked terrified,” you asked.
Jungkook barely spared you a glance. “Good. He should’ve knocked before coming in,” he replied sternly. His strict nature when it came to his rules wasn’t surprising, but sometimes, you wished he wouldn’t be so harsh on the people working for him.
Carefully, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands. His eyes softened as they met yours. “Koo,” you murmured, brushing your thumb along his cheek. “You need to breathe.”
He let out a slow breath as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the storm inside them calmed — just a little.
“I just hate when people don’t listen,” he muttered quietly.
“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t let it consume you.”
His shoulders slumped slightly as he leaned into your touch. For all his strength, for all his power, you were the one thing that could ground him. “Let’s just finish the food, hmm?” you tried to coax him in hopes to bring back the peaceful moment you had before the interruption.
But Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t now baby. I have to go,” he said softly as he looked at you.
Your expression fell instantly. A deep disappointment settled in your chest, but also fear. No matter how many times he left for these missions, the worry never faded. The possibility of him not coming home lingered in your mind like a ghost that refused to stop haunting you.
He noticed the sudden change in your demeanour and reached out to gently cup your face in his warm hands. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks as he looked you into your eyes. “I promise I’ll be back soon, hmm?” he reassured you softly.
You swallowed hard and pressed your lips together as you tried to hold back the unease bubbling inside you. “But…what if something happens to you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. Before you knew it, your arms wrapped around his torso as you held him tightly, like you could somehow keep him from leaving.
Jungkook chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest. He stroked your hair soothingly. “Nothing will happen to me love. I’m a strong man,” he teased as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. You knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t help much. The anxiety in your heart was still there.
“You should go to sleep now. It’s getting late,” he murmured against your hair, pulling away slightly to look at you again. “I’ll get going.”
But you groaned and tightened your arms around him like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy. “Babe, please,” you whined.
Jungkook sighed, shaking his head with amusement. “I’m getting late,” he whined back in a playful tone, mimicking you. “You’re acting like a baby now,” he chuckled, his usual serious demeanour cracking just a little as he poked fun at you.
Despite the comfort of the moment, you still didn’t want him to go. You buried your face into his chest for a few more seconds before reluctantly loosening your grip. Jungkook took the opportunity to finally pull away, though he lingered just a moment longer, his fingers brushing against your wrist before stepping back.
His playful expression faded as he turned serious again. He called for one of his men in a sharp and commanding tone. “What’s the position of the Ravenclaw gang?” he asked.
The man who was holding an iPad quickly updated him. “It looks like they’re at the Riverdale Bar. They should be at the abandoned warehouse in about five minutes,” he reported.
Jungkook gave a curt nod as he processed the information. The air around him shifted again. He was no longer your teasing, affectionate fiancé. He was the ruthless leader his men feared and respected. The moment he stepped into that mindset, there was no turning back.
The man hurried out of the room after receiving his silent dismissal. Jungkook turned back to you, and scanned your face. You were still standing there, watching him with those same worried eyes, and he sighed.
Without a word, he stepped forward and scooped you up into his arms. You let out a surprised yelp and instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you out of the dining room and up the stairs.
“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you asked.
“If you’re not going to listen and go to bed yourself, then I’ll make you,” he said simply, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You pouted but didn’t argue. He was too strong to fight off anyway.
Reaching the bedroom, he stepped inside and gently laid you down on the bed. His hands carefully adjusted you to make sure you were comfortable before grabbing a nearby blanket and draping it over you.
Then, instead of leaving immediately, he sat beside you with his fingers brushing through your silky hair absentmindedly. His eyes softened. “You really worry about me that much?” he murmured after a moment.
You looked up at him, your throat tightening. “Of course I do,” you admitted. “You’re my everything Jungkook, and my heart never rests when you’re not here with me”
His lips pressed into a thin line as he let out a slow exhale. “I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ll be careful” was all he could promise.
Jungkook sighed softly as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, brushing a few strands away from your face along the way. He looked down at you with tenderness, but there was also worry in his dark eyes. He never liked leaving you, especially at night, but his duty called.
“Right, I’m going to go now,” he murmured. “And like I said, I promise to be back home soon, so just go to sleep, okay?”
You bit your lip as your stomach churned with unease. No matter how many times he reassured you, the fear never went away. Every time he stepped out of that door, there was a possibility he wouldn’t come back. The world he was a part of was dangerous and unpredictable.
“Please be careful,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “Come home safe — and alive.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened as he cupped your face, his thumbs tracing small circles on your cheeks. “Hey, I’m going to be fine. I promise,” he said with a small reassuring smile before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.
He kissed you once, then again, and again, each peck lingering just a little longer than the last. It was as if he couldn’t bring himself to stop, as if he needed to memorise the feel of your lips before he walked away.
You clutched onto his hoodie to hold him close as you kissed him back, your heart aching at the same time. “I love you so much,” he murmured between kisses.
“I love you too,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his. “Please be safe.”
Jungkook exhaled deeply and pressed one final kiss to your lips before pulling away. He stood up from the bed and ran a hand through his dark hair as he looked down at you. “You know what to do,” he reminded you with a serious tone. “Call me if anything happens, okay?”
You nodded weakly with your hands still gripping the blanket that covered you. Jungkook’s lips curled into a small affectionate smile. “Goodnight, princess.”
“Goodnight baby” you whispered. Jungkook turned off the light switch and quietly exited the room. You listened to the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall. Then, silence.
You sighed and curled up on your side. The bed felt emptier without him. Despite the lingering anxiety in your chest, tiredness soon took over, and you drifted off into a restless sleep.
But little did you know, you weren’t alone.
A figure stood motionless outside. His presence was barely noticeable because his breathing was slow and controlled. His lips curled into a sinister smirk as he listened to the soft sound of your breathing from inside the room.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a phone and dialed a number. The call was answered almost instantly. “Hello, boss?” the man spoke in a hushed voice. “Yeah, he’s gone. And his little bitch is sleeping.”
He let out a low chuckle as his fingers tapped lightly against the wall. “I’ll distract the bodyguard guarding the back area and signal you to come in,” he continued smoothly as his eyes flickered toward the entrance of the house.
There was a pause as he listened to the voice on the other end. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he nodded. “Yeah, okay, boss. See you soon.”
He ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket before glancing back at your closed bedroom door. His smirk widened. “Hope you spent your last day well, Miss Kim,” he muttered under his breath before leaving.
The night was supposed to be peaceful. Everything was silent, except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. But then something woke you up. A sudden noise.
Living with Jungkook and around his lifestyle, your senses have sharpened throughout the years. You were up almost immediately because it wasn’t just any noise. It was the kind that didn’t belong during quiet hours in this house.
You froze, and your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. It sounded like whispering — low murmurs from downstairs. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a deep, unsettling feeling crept into your gut.
Carefully, you removed the blanket, ensuring that not even the softest rustle gave away your movement. You tiptoed towards the door and pressed your ear against it. Silence. For a moment, you wondered if your mind played a trick on you, but then you heard it again — soft, hushed voices just below.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you unlocked the door. You pushed it open just enough to peek into the dimly lit hallway. There was no one in sight. But the feeling of being watched made you paranoid.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped out. Each step down the stairs was slow and calculated, while your heart thudded louder with every inch you descended. You reached the ground floor, and your eyes landed on a familiar figure. You bodyguard, standing still with his back facing you.
Relief washed over you for a brief moment, but something felt…wrong.
“Hello? Is anybody down there?” you called out.
But your bodyguard didn’t respond. He stood eerily still, and that’s when you noticed it — his posture was tense. “Who was making the noise?” you asked cautiously.
And then, when he turned, your blood ran cold. It wasn’t him.
The man before you wore the same uniform, but his face was one you had never seen before. His eyes were dark, lit with a sinister amusement. Your breath hitched. You knew every single one of Jungkook’s bodyguards, and this man was not one of them. He was an imposter.
Your heart pounded as fear took hold. “W-Who are you? A-And what are y-you doing h-here?” you stammered, taking a step back.
The man smirked, his lips curling with something close to satisfaction. Slowly, he advanced toward you. You instinctively backed away, step by step, until the cold wall met your back. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as your mind raced for an escape.
Then, a sudden rustling filled the air. From the corner of your eyes, men emerged silently, dressed in sleek grey suits. And then, you saw it — the glint of metal. Handguns. Panic overflowed through you. You spun around, but before you could run, they surrounded you, cutting off every possible escape.
One of the men stepped forward. His presence seemed like he was the leader, commanding. His eyes burned into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. You swallowed hard and tried to mask the fear threatening to consume you.
“We’re really sorry for disturbing your sleep. But don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of sleep when we’re done with you.” His voice was a whisper against your ear, yet it held the weight of a threat. A shiver ran down your spine once again as you felt his breath against your skin.
Your throat went dry. “W-Who are you, and what do you want from me?” you demanded, though your voice trembled despite your best efforts to sound strong.
The man chuckled darkly and tilted his head to study you. “Who I am is none of your business, love. But what I want…is you. You and your blood smeared on my hands. Revenge for what your little fiancé did.”
Jungkook.
Your breath hitched again. Your mind raced to try and piece together what he meant. What did Jungkook do? Who were these men?
Your pulse thundered in your ears as you took another shaky step back, but there was nowhere to go. The men were closing in, their faces cold and merciless. You had to get out. You had to call Jungkook.
But the chances of escaping this room alive? Very, very slim.
Your eyes started to pool with tears as your body shook aggressively. “But I want to have fun before I get started with the real shit” he said, trailing his fingers along your bare shoulder.
But your instincts soon took over. You smacked his hand away and, with all your strength, drove your knee into his groin. The man let out a loud grunt as he doubled over in pain. Without hesitation, you shoved him aside and bolted for the door.
But before you could even reach it, his men blocked your path like a wall of stone. Your panic peaked as you spun around, looking for another way out.
“You little—” he snarled with rage burning in his eyes as he recovered. He lunged at you and grabbed your wrist in a bruising grip. You struggled and thrashed against him, but he was stronger.
“Let go of me!” you screamed as you twisted and turned in his hold.
But he wouldn’t budge. So you did the last thing there was to do. You reached down to his wrist and sank your teeth into his flesh with a force that was enough to break his skin. The man screamed out in pain and his grip on you loosened. You took the opportunity to shove him and move as far as you could away from him and his men.
But he was quick to recover this time too. When his head snapped to your direction, clutching onto his arm, you could see the rage in his eyes tripling.
“You bitch!” he lunged at you again and grabbed you by the hair, causing you to let out a loud painful shriek. He then pulled you in and threw you over his shoulder.
“LET GO OF ME! PUT ME DOWN” you screamed, but all fell into deaf ears.
“Move out of the way boys, I’m going to teach this slut a lesson first. She messed with the wrong guy” he said.
The men stepped aside and allowed him to walk past, while you cried and pounded your fists against his back. You were kicking wildly, but he didn't budge.
Once he reached a random guest bedroom, he threw you onto the bed with such force that you bounced against the mattress. Your pulse quickened as he removed his suit jacket and tossed it aside. His monstrous eyes locked onto you with dangerous intent.
You refused to let fear paralyse you. You refused to let him take advantage of you. Crawling backward, you pressed yourself against the headboard. “D-Don't come any closer,” you warned.
He smirked. “Or what?” he challenged, jumping on the bed and pinning you down. “You can’t do shit love, so be quiet and let me do my thing” he said leaning closer to your neck.
“NO! GET AWAY FROM ME YOU BASTARD!” you screamed, trying to push him away but failing. It only earned you a hard smack in the face that caused your head to turn sideways. You glared at him with your tearful but hateful eyes.
Just before he could do anything else, you brought your knee up and kneed him in the groin once again. Taking advantage of the brief distraction, you grabbed the nearest object — a heavy lamp — and swung it across his head with everything you had.
The impact sent him staggering back, clutching his head.
Breathing heavily, you scrambled off the bed and made a break for the door. Your hands fumbled with the lock as footsteps pounded behind you. Just as he lunged, you wrenched the door open and darted down the hallway.
Shouts erupted from the men downstairs as they realised you were escaping. Your adrenaline fueled you as you ran towards your bedroom and slammed the door shut behind you. You locked it and pressed your back against the wood as you tried to catch your breath.
Heavy footsteps soon approached. They wouldn't let you get away.
With shaky hands, you snatched your phone from the nightstand and quickly dialed Jungkook’s number. Each ring felt like an eternity. Your breaths came in short gasps as you fought the panic closing in at your throat. When he finally picked up, a wave of relief washed over you.
“Hey babe, you okay?”
Jungkook sounded a little concerned, you could tell, but you couldn’t get a word out. Your breathing was ragged and uneven, and you could feel the hot sting of tears in your eyes. Your entire body was shaking uncontrollably.
Jungkook immediately stopped what he was doing. His expression hardened as he sensed something was terribly wrong.
“Y/n, are you okay? What happened? Say something.”
You let out a broken sob, the tears rolling down your cheeks as your grip on the phone tightened. “There’s someone i-in the h-house, Jungkook…a g-group of men. I-I don’t k-know w-who they are a-and—” your voice cracked, and fear rendered you almost speechless.
Jungkook’s heart plummeted. His worst nightmare was unfolding, and he wasn’t there to protect you. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fist. His heart was hammering in his chest in fear. His men, who were waiting for orders, noticed his sudden shift in demeanour. Without hesitation, he turned to them.
“Princess, tell me exactly what happened. I’m coming, okay? Go and hide somewhere safe.”
His words were urgent, but he tried to keep his voice steady for your sake. He signalled half of his men to follow him, while the others remained behind to finish the mission. His protective instincts had fully taken over. Nothing mattered more than getting to you.
You sobbed into the phone as you hurriedly whispered everything you had seen and heard. Your voice shook and every breath you took showed how scared you were.
Meanwhile, Jungkook’s blood boiled with uncontainable rage. He gritted his teeth, with fury and fear intertwining in his chest like a storm. He always feared something like this would happen — someone coming for you when he wasn’t there.
And now, it was real.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he sped down the road, his heart racing faster than the car itself. “Please come h-home soon Jungkook, I’m scared. I don’t want to d-die,” you choked out.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched. “Nothing will happen to you, okay? I’m on my way. Stay hidden. Stay on the call with me, don’t hang up.”
You did as he told you and hurriedly slipped into the closet in your bedroom, curling up into a ball as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Every sound in the house made your pulse skyrocket. Your body was frozen in fear, but Jungkook’s voice in your ear kept you from breaking down completely.
“I hate this, Jungkook. I hate all the guns and the violence,” you whispered. Jungkook’s heart ached at your words. He knew. He knew you never wanted to be caught up in this world, but you had become his weakness, his greatest vulnerability. And now, you were paying the price for loving him.
“I know baby. Just hold on a little longer. I swear, I’ll be there soon.” And with that, he pressed down on the accelerator harder because he was determined to get to you before it was too late.
It was then when you heard faint creaking of the floorboards which sent a violent shiver down your spine, and you curled deeper into the corner of the closet as you tried to regulate your breathing. The room outside was silent, too eerily silent, except for the slow footsteps that were approaching you. Each of them felt like a countdown to your doom. You clutched your phone tighter, but your trembling fingers barely were able to hold on.
Was this the end?
Jungkook was still on the line, still half way there, but you feared it would be too late. “I love you, Koo.” you whispered as tears continued to roll down your cheeks. “Please come quickly...I'm scared.”
Tears stung his eyes as his breathing became uneven, “I love you too baby. Just hang in there, I’m almost home.”
And then, you heard a click. It was an unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded. Your stomach dropped.
“I love you,” you whispered like they were your final words.
The closet door was soon yanked open with brutal force, and your phone nearly slipped from your grasp as you looked up, terror finally paralysing you. “There you are, you bitch,” the man sneered as a cold smirk stretched across his face.
Jungkook's blood ran cold as he heard that familiar voice. “Y/N?!” his voice cracked in fear as he heard your muffled gasp. He was still too far away.
“Hello? Y/n? Are you there?” his voice came through the phone frantically. But before you could utter a single word, a rough hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you out of the cramped closet. The force sent you stumbling, and the phone slipped from your grasp, clattering onto the cold, hard floor.
A scream tore from your throat as the man's grip tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair and yanking your head back. Pain shot through your scalp, but the terror in your chest overshadowed it. “Y/N!” your fiancé yelled.
“YOU BASTARD, LET HER GO NOW!” Jungkook desperately screamed, but there was no one to answer him — only your frantic cries and the scuffle of shoes against the ground.
Then, he heard an ear piercing scream, followed by a deafening gunshot.
The line went dead, and Jungkook's heart stopped.
“No. No, no, no. This can't be happening” his breathing grew ragged, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned whiter than they were before. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and weaved recklessly through traffic, his mind spiraling with fear. Was that gunshot meant for you? Were you hurt?
Or worse.
The thought made him sick and his blood boiled with rage. He prayed and he begged that you were still alive, that he wasn't too late. If he found even a single scratch on you, he wouldn't rest until he made the man who took you suffer.
He was coming for you.
Reaching the mansion, Jungkook slammed the brakes and jumped out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop. His heart was pounding violently, breath ragged and vision blurred by tears streaming down his cheeks as he sprinted towards the grand entrance. The moment he stepped inside, his stomach twisted in horror.
Bodies of his men and his loyal guards lay motionless scattered across the floor in pools of red. The scent of gunpowder and death lingering in the air was compelling, and it was suffocating him.
The mansion was eerily silent. No gunfire, no voices. Just an overwhelming, deafening silence. But his mind focused on one thing only — you.
“Y/N?! BABY, WHERE ARE YOU?!” he shouted desperately, his voice cracking. He ran through the halls, kicking open each door as he searched for you frantically. But there was no answer. His hands shook as he gripped the staircase railing. His legs were moving on their own and carried him upstairs.
“Y/n, please. Where are you, honey?” his voice came out weaker this time. It was a desperate plea rather than a demand.
Then, a small, delicate voice reached his ears.
“Jungkook?”
His breath hitched, and he spun around so fast he almost lost his balance. Then, he saw you. Standing in the doorway of the guest room. Relief washed over him like a crashing wave, and for a brief moment, the chaos around him ceased to exist.
“Oh my god, there you are!” he exhaled as he closed the distance between you in a few quick strides. His hands ached to touch you, to hold you, to make sure you were real.
You took a step forward, but something about the way you moved made him a little puzzled. Your steps were slow and irregular. Your lips were quivering while tears streamed down your face.
But still, you smiled at him — a soft, tired smile, like a person who had fought too hard and was finally surrendering.
Jungkook ignored the unease curling in his stomach and pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly. He pressed his lips against your forehead, “I was so scared, I thought they hurt you” he whispered.
You didn’t respond, only melting into his embrace with your head resting against his firm chest as if you belonged there.
For a moment, everything seemed okay.
Until it wasn’t. Because it was then when Jungkook felt it.
A wet sensation against his palm.
At first, he thought it was just sweat, maybe even tears. But when he lifted his hand, his confusion turned into gut-wrenching terror. His fingers were stained red.
His blood ran cold.
Slowly, he pulled away. His breathing became shallow as his eyes locked onto the dark patch spreading across your dark blue pyjama top. His stomach reeled.
“No…no, no, no.”
His voice was barely above a whisper, but his body screamed. His fingers trembled violently as they reached for the fabric, peeling it away just enough to reveal the truth that shattered his entire world.
Three bullet holes.
Right in your abdomen.
Jungkook’s mind blanked. His heart thumped so loudly he could barely hear anything else. His chest clenched as panic gripped at his throat.
“No, baby, stay with me, okay? Just stay with me!” he was frantic. His hands pressed against your wounds to try and stop the bleeding, but the crimson liquid seeped through his fingers too fast.
You wobbled slightly, and your body leaned against him for support. Your eyes were fluttering as you struggled to keep them open.
“Jungkook…” you murmured weakly.
“No, don’t talk like that! You’re going to be fine. I’ll get you help, I promise” his voice broke as he cradled you in his arms. He held you tight as if holding you close would somehow keep you from slipping away.
But your body was growing weaker.
Jungkook’s world was falling apart, and he was powerless to stop it.
The pain continued to spread like wildfire through your body, triggering your legs to shake uncontrollably beneath you and shredding any remaining strength. The world around you was hazy, darkness was beginning to invade the periphery of your vision, and your thoughts struggled to remain alert. But the pain was unbearable and your body could no longer bear the weight of it.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as your legs finally gave out, and you collapsed. Jungkook moved faster than he ever had in his life. His arms shot forward and caught you just before you hit the floor. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst.
“No…no, no, no!” he mumbled desperately as he pulled you into his lap. His hands pressed against your wounds while his entire body was shaking. The warmth of your blood oozed through his fingers, and a horrifying contrast to the coldness began to creep into your skin.
A raw, desperate cry ripped from his throat. “SOMEONE CALL THE AMBULANCE!” he screamed in panic that echoed through the empty halls.
But you shook your head weakly. Your breathing laboured, and every word was a struggle now, every syllable dripping with pain.
“N-No, it’s o-okay. T-There’s n-n-no need t-to. I-It’s g-going to be t-too l-late…”
Jungkook’s heart shattered at your words. His hold on you tightened more as if he could physically hold onto your life and keep it from slipping away.
“N-No! Don’t say that! You’re going to be o-okay. I won’t let anything happen to you!” he choked out as his tears dripped onto your skin.
You tried to smile, but it came out weak and broken. “K-Koo…y-you know I-I’m n-not going to make it. L-Look at me…”
He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Because looking at you meant accepting the truth. Looking at you meant accepting that this was happening, that he was losing you, that no matter how much he wished, begged, or prayed, he couldn’t save you.
Jungkook shook his head furiously. “No! No, don’t talk like that! You have to fight, please! Stay with me, baby, please!”
He had imagined a future with you — a lifetime together, a wedding, a home filled with joy, and your children. He promised himself that he would always protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.
And yet, here you were, bleeding out to death in his arms.
He was too late.
A sob racked his chest as his fingers traced your paling cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” he whimpered, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. “This is all my fault…”
You looked up at him through hooded eyes. Eyes that were still filled with love despite the agonising pain you were in. With great effort, you lifted your hand and cupped his cheek. Your thumb grazed over his skin in an attempt to comfort him.
“I-It’s not y-your f-fault. It’s no one’s fault…” you whispered, though even as you spoke, your voice was fading, your breaths becoming shallower.
Jungkook felt his entire being fracture. His hand cradled your face while his tears mixed with the blood staining his skin. “No, no, no…baby, please…” his voice cracked as he shook his head.
The only sound between you was his broken cries and your ragged, weakening breathing.
His grief turned to fury. His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening. He knew who did this to you, and he swore they would pay.
“I promise you, I will hunt down the bastard who did this. I swear, I will rip his head off” his voice was low with murderous intent. He spoke as if making that promise alone could keep you alive.
But deep down, he knew.
You were slipping away. And that there was little he could do to stop it.
Your fingers clutched weakly at the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt. Your grip was faltering as every ounce of strength drained from your body. The pain was unbearable now, like a fire consuming you from the inside out, but even worse than the agony was the sight of him — his face twisted with devastation, tears endlessly streaming down his bruised cheeks, his hands shaking as they cradled your dying form.
You could barely keep your eyes open, but you had to tell him. You had to make him promise.
“P-Promise me…you’ll m-move o-on and f-find someone e-else…” your voice cracked with pain, your breathing growing more ragged. “I d-don’t want y-you to be s-sad forever when I’m g-gone.”
Jungkook’s entire body stiffened. His heart clenched as if someone had reached into his chest and crushed it in their grip.
“No. No, never” his voice was firm but choked with tears. “I love you, only you. There will never be another woman I want to love. I don’t see my future with anyone else but you.”
His words made your already weak heart ache. You wanted to stay. You wanted a lifetime with him. You imagined growing old together, waking up in his arms every morning, sharing laughter, love, and the simple joys of life. But fate had different plans.
You let out a soft, broken sigh. “I-I’m tired…”
Jungkook shook his head frantically. “No! No, you’ll be fine. The ambulance is on the way, baby. Stay awake, you’re going to be okay!” he rocked you slightly, as if the motion would keep you conscious, keep you grounded to this world.
But you gave him a small, sad smile. “J-Jungkook…h-honey, you know t-that’s not true…”
He wanted to argue. He wanted to scream at the universe for being so cruel, but your voice was growing fainter, and your eyes were fluttering as if you were already halfway between this world and the next.
“You r-really were the b-best t-thing that h-has ever h-happened to m-me…” you whispered. The weight of those words was breaking him more and more. He let out a heart-wrenching sob. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
“I w-wish I was able to s-stay with you f-forever…”
Jungkook’s cries grew louder, echoing through the empty hallways, and his entire body shuddered as he held you. “No, no, please don’t do this to me. Stay with me. Just a little longer, baby. Please!”
You forced yourself to gather the last of your strength to use your fingers and brush them against his cheek. You wanted to memorise him one last time — the warmth of his skin, the love in his eyes, even the pain he carried for you.
“I-I l-love y-you…” you gasped out.
Jungkook’s entire world came crashing down. His body shook as he let out a broken wail, pressing his forehead against yours.
At that moment, he knew. He had to let you go.
He had to watch the love of his life slip away, leaving him in a world that suddenly felt far too empty, far too cold. No matter how badly he wanted to fight for you, to keep you by his side, it was too late.
The least he could do was let you go and allow you to rest forever in peace. His hands continued to tremble as he held you close. His vision was blurred by the endless stream of tears that refused to stop falling. He knew this was inevitable. He knew there was nothing more he could do to save you. And yet, the weight of reality crushed him.
“I love you too princess,” he sobbed. His fingers gently traced your pale face.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly. Every word you spoke felt like a dagger to his chest, twisting deeper and bluntly, leaving wounds that would never heal.
“Shh, there’s no reason for you to be sorry my love,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he pulled you closer, desperate to feel the warmth that was already fading from your body.
He leaned down and pressed one final, lingering kiss to your lips. It was soft, tender, and filled with all the love he could no longer express with words. You managed a small smile, tasting him one last time before your eyes fluttered shut, and the darkness swallowed you whole forever.
For a moment, there was silence. An eerie hush that made everything feel unreal. But when Jungkook felt your body go limp in his arms, when your hand slipped from his grip and fell lifelessly to the side, the world collapsed.
“No,” he gasped, his eyes wide with horror. “No, no, no — please!”
A heart-wrenching scream tore from his throat that resonated throughout the house like a ghostly wail of pain. The sound was raw and unfiltered, a cry so broken that it sent chills down the spines of those who heard it. With their leader's agony echoing louder than any gunshot they had ever heard, his men, who were positioned throughout the house, recoiled at the sound.
As though cradling you closer would somehow make you come back to life, Jungkook held on to your lifeless body, his fingers pressing into your flesh. His whole body rattled as he sobbed hysterically while burying his face in the crook of your neck. His lungs burned, his chest hurt, and he felt as though his sorrow was drowning him.
How was he supposed to live without you? How was he supposed to go on knowing that the only thing that made life worth living had been ripped away from him? You were his light in his dark life, his happiness, the only thing that kept him sane in this merciless world. And now, you were gone.
And someone was going to pay for it.
His hands trembled as he reached his hand to lightly, almost reverently, caress your cold cheek. His anguish turned into something more sinister, something lethal, and his jaw tightened.
“I will make them pay baby, I swear” he murmured, his voice hoarse, filled with quiet fury. “I will not spare them.”
He heard a rustling sound from behind that made his body stiffen. They were light footsteps. A presence. And he recognised it before he even turned around.
“Jungkook.” It was gentle, but hesitant.
Jungkook turned his head slowly, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish once again. Mingyu stood a short distance away with his eyes reflecting their sorrow of watching his friend's broken state and his face brimming with grief.
“H-Hyung,” Jungkook stammered, his lips quivering, his entire body shaking. His throat was tight, as if words would never come out properly again.
Mingyu approached him cautiously, moving slowly and mindfully so as not to disturb him in his vulnerable position. With a mournful heart from the unimaginable scene in front of him, he knelt next to Jungkook and lowered himself to his level.
With his body jerking with sobs, Jungkook held onto Mingyu like an aid and leaned against his chest. He was shaking, his pain so overwhelming that it consumed him entirely.
“S-She’s g-gone Mingyu,” Jungkook choked out. “They killed her.”
Mingyu shut his eyes for a moment, letting the weight of Jungkook’s grief settle in his chest. He saw Jungkook in many states before — angry, ruthless, untouchable — but never like this. Never so utterly shattered.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. It was all he could say, all he could offer, knowing that no words would ever be enough.
Jungkook’s cries filled the large empty space, his body curling into itself as he mourned the love of his life. And amidst his heartbreak, amidst the unbearable grief that threatened to consume him, there was one thing he knew for certain.
He would not rest until the people responsible for this paid the price in blood.
“S-She was crying…she was so s-scared…but I was too l-late,” he choked out, his breath hitching with every word. “I f-failed. I failed to keep the p-promise I made to her, I f-failed to protect her.”
His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as if the pain would wake him from this nightmare. But this was real. Too real.
“She h-hated all this… she h-hated guns and v-violence because it s-scared her.” His body convulsed with another sob, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to continue. “S-She was s-scared to die.”
Mingyu watched helplessly as Jungkook completely broke before him. He never saw him like this — not even in their darkest moments, not even in the bloodiest wars they fought together. Jungkook had always been the strongest among them, the one who never let his emotions show, the one who kept his heart guarded behind walls of steel.
But now, those walls crumbled. He was no longer the ruthless, fearless leader Mingyu knew. He was just a broken man, holding onto the only person who had ever made him feel whole.
“B-But she still chose to s-stay with me,” Jungkook continued. “And I p-promised to protect her.” His grip on your lifeless body tightened.
“But I f-failed her…I was too l-late.” His words ended in a heartbreaking wail as he buried his face into your shoulder.
Mingyu felt his own heart break at the sight. The room was filled with Jungkook’s agonising cries that echoed off the walls. No one, not even Mingyu himself, had ever seen him cry like this before. The man who was feared by so many, the one who stood unshaken in the face of death, was now completely undone.
When his eyes traveled to your body, his breath hitched. The sight of the bullet wounds on your abdomen made his stomach churn. The blood that had soaked through your clothes, staining Jungkook’s hands as he held you, was a reminder of the brutality of it all.
Mingyu swallowed hard, knowing that once Jungkook moved past his grief, all that would remain was rage. And that was what terrified him. The moment Jungkook decided to go rogue, there would be no stopping him.
He stayed with him for what felt like an eternity, allowing Jungkook to cry until his sobs dulled into quiet whimpers, his tears still flowing freely. Even as the silence grew heavier between them, Jungkook refused to let go of you. His arms remained wrapped around you, his face still pressed against your cold skin, unwilling to accept that you were no longer breathing.
Then, finally, his voice returned — hoarse and cold.
“Call Namjoon,” he ordered, his voice still as a whisper but there was authority. “And get—” his throat constricted as he forced himself to swallow the lump forming there. His eyes that were swollen and bloodshot, flickered back to your body as his fingers brushed over your face gently.
“Get her body to the hospital” his voice cracked on the last word, clenching his jaw to try to hold himself together. But Mingyu could see it — the war waging inside him, the battle between grief and fury, between the part of him that wanted to fall apart and the part that demanded vengeance.
Mingyu hesitated for a moment. But then he nodded, knowing there was nothing he could say to ease Jungkook’s pain. He pulled out his phone and dialled Namjoon.
As he spoke, he glanced back at Jungkook, who still didn’t move. He remained frozen, clutching you tightly, as if he could somehow bring you back to life if he just held you close enough. His lips were trembling still, while his breathing remained uneven, but there was something else in his expression now.
A destructive storm was brewing inside him.
Mingyu had seen Jungkook angry before. He had seen him furious, livid, merciless. But this? This was different. This was something deeper, darker. This wasn’t just anger.
This was war. On everything and anything that came his way.
Each time Jungkook looked at the bullet holes in your abdomen, his fury only grew hotter. His breathing turned heavier, his fists clenched tighter, his entire body coiled like a predator ready to strike. Things were going to be a bloody mess after this. And Jungkook would make sure of it.
When Namjoon and the others eventually showed up, the air was heavy with melancholy and tension.
Their footsteps grew heavy as they took in the tragic sight in front of them, and their faces turned grim. As if he couldn't let go, Jungkook remained kneeling on the ground with his arms encircling your limp body and his face pressed against your cold skin. In an instant, his entire world had fallen apart, and he was unsure of how to put himself back together.
Namjoon approached the man carefully, and his usual composed demeanor faltered as he watched the agony in Jungkook’s bloodshot eyes. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Jungkook,” he murmured.
Jungkook inhaled shakily, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge the others standing around him. Instead, he leaned down, pressing one last, lingering kiss on your forehead, and then your pale chapped lips.
“I love you,” he whispered. “Things won’t be the same without you…but I promise I will learn to live. For you.” A tear slipped down his cheek, landing on yours.
Then, as if something inside him had snapped, he finally released you. His body felt heavier than ever as he let Namjoon and the others take you from his arms. The absence of your warmth sent a sharp pain through his chest, but he forced himself to sit still as his eyes fixated on the blood staining his hands. Your blood.
His fingers twitched before slowly curling into a tight fist. His breathing grew steadier, but the warmth that once filled his eyes was gone, replaced by something darker. When he finally rose to his feet, there was no trace of the broken man who had been sobbing moments ago.
Instead, there stood a man prepared for a blood smearing war.
His voice was low and cold, void of all the emotions that had consumed him before. “Call up everyone. Everyone with their weapons. Meet me at the main base,” he commanded, his tone sharp as a blade.
His gaze shifted towards Mingyu, who flinched slightly at the newfound steel in his voice. “Tell the boys at the abandoned warehouse to finish off those bastards and get to the base immediately” there was no hesitation, no room for argument. This was an order.
“We’re gonna end this bastard and his gang once and for all” his words dripped with venom, his jaw clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck were visible. The pure hatred radiating off him sent chills down Mingyu’s spine.
Jungkook bent down and picked up his gun, his fingers gripping the cold metal as if it was the only thing anchoring him. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, his movements fueled by vengeance.
Mingyu remained frozen in place, his throat dry as he swallowed hard. He knew things were about to get very, very ugly. Jungkook wasn’t just seeking revenge — he was out for blood, and nothing was going to stop him.
Your death had left a scar so deep that even wiping out an entire gang wouldn’t be enough to heal it. No amount of bloodshed would bring you back. But even knowing that, Jungkook was willing to burn everything down to make them pay.
And Mingyu knew that once the battle started, there would be no stopping him.
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wicked game
chapter 10 - charming
synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.
but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.
masterlist
cw: language, alcohol






it was a long, exhausting night after lucas left. you felt numb, empty, lost. but a part of you felt relief. and you felt so guilty for feeling that.
you didn't let the girls come over straight away, you wanted to deal with it yourself and process it, but you knew you needed to go out tonight to stop yourself from moping.
by the time the evening had had arrived, your chest still felt heavy, but the grief had dulled into something quieter. something you felt able to carry.
you allowed yourself to get dressed up, promising the girls you would meet them there as you just needed to take your time.
you stared at the dress hanging on the back of your chair that sarah had given to you back when you first became roommates. "wear this when you want to feel hot. trust me." she had said to you that night.
this was one of those nights.
you put it on, did a quick once over and decided it was good enough for right now.
the kappa tau house was, as always, buzzing and full of energy by the time you got there.
you found kie and cleo, who both did a quick double-take when they saw you, expressions flashing from surprise to concern to that unspoken thank god you’re here kind of relief.
"you made it,” kie said, immediately pulling you into a hug. "how are you?" she asked with sincerity.
you gave a weak smile. "ask me after drink number three."
cleo handed you a red solo cup like she’d already prepared for that answer. "you don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to."
"i know," you said, taking a sip. "i just want to be with my girls tonight."
"speaking of..." cleo nodded towards the corner where john b and sarah were making out. "she's been a little preoccupied."
you laughed, "so they're official huh?"
"apparently so. they're fucking whipped." kie sighed.
"she's never in our dorm anymore. always at his." you smiled softly, glad she had someone like him. "i'm happy for her." they nodded in agreement.
for a little while, it was easy. you laughed, danced, and let the negative thoughts stay hidden. but as the night went on, you felt yourself overwhelmed and in need of a break.
"i'm just gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. you guys carry on." you said to the girls.
"are you okay? do you want us to come with you?" kie rushed, always the first one to worry.
"i'm fine! i promise. just getting a bit sweaty."
"ok, but we're here for you, yeah?" cleo spoke with concern.
"i know i know. i'll be back shortly." you stepped away, slipping through the crowd in the living room and making it out to the garden. it was quieter, darker, with the slight flicker of cigarettes being lit and phone screens.
you exhaled deeply, the cool air hitting your skin like a reset button. you leaned against the wall, letting your head fall back, eyes closed, just trying to feel something besides the dull ache in your chest that comes back as soon as you're alone.
"you always sneak off during our parties?"
the voice startled you, pulling you out your trance.
"i didn’t know you were out here," you said quietly.
"didn’t know you were either. guess we both needed a break."
you glanced at rafe for a moment before returning your gaze to the backyard. "you always this good at finding people when they want to be alone?"
"not really. just tends to always be you." he shrugged, "why do you want to be alone?"
"just not really in a people mood right now."
he tilted his head slightly, watching you. "rough night?"
"lucas and i broke up." you responded bluntly.
rafe didn’t say anything at first, just nodded slowly. no told you so. no smug comment. just a shift in his expression. shock and a hint of sympathy.
"you okay?" he asked after a few minutes.
"yeah," you said finally. "i think it wasn't good for a while. he wasn't like, bad or anything. we just grew apart. it felt pretend. and that's exhausting in itself."
he didn’t push you for more. "i get that," voice softer now. "sometimes it’s easier to fake it than admit it's kinda falling apart.”
you looked over at him then, his face barely lit by the glow of the inside, his eyes steady on yours. there was no judgment there. just a weird kind of understanding.
"you always this philosophical at parties?" you let out a small laugh.
he cracked a smile. "only when i run into pretty girls in gardens."
you rolled your eyes, but your lips tugged into the faintest smile, "charming"
"you smiled," he said, "that’s gotta count for something."
"we seem to end up together at parties away from everyone else quite a lot." you said, sitting down against the wall.
"is that a problem?" he sat beside you, close but not too close.
"not really," you said after a beat, voice quieter now. "just… interesting."
he hummed in response, resting his arms on his knees, head tilted slightly like he was trying to read between the lines of your words. "maybe it’s a sign."
you looked over at him, brows raised. "a sign? for what?"
"that you secretly like my company," he said, glancing at you with the smallest smirk, but it didn’t come off cocky. "or maybe you just keep ending up in the same places i go when i’m trying to get away."
"away from what?"
"the pressure of being a frat guy."
you both burst into laughter, you swatted his shoulder, but rafe caught your hand before it could hit him. and he didn't let go. holding it before slowly brushing his hand against yours, just gently. just enough for you to decide.
you hesitated, then turned your hand over, letting your fingers curl lightly into his. it wasn’t romantic. it wasn’t even flirtatious. it was steady. grounding. quiet.
his thumb grazed your knuckles, barely there. "you’re allowed to feel relief," he said softly, his voice low and warm. "even if it hurts. even if it’s messy."
"you always like this when you’re not pretending to be an asshole?"
he let out a small laugh. "don’t tell anyone. ruins the brand."
you smiled again, this time more real.
"i'm glad i keep bumping into you." you whispered after a while.
"yeah." he replied, just as quietly. "me too."
a/n: i hate this chapter wahhhhhhh anyway how much of this is bet rafe and how much is real rafe mwahahha
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#smau#rafe cameron#obx#obxsmau#boyfriend rafe#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#wicked game#college au#frat boy!rafe#frat!rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#rafe fanfiction
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obsessed part two
bokuto x reader
(afab. this is the most comfortable i write in. i try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible and not give any description of the reader. lmk how i can do betterrrrrr)
- authors note: you guys really liked part one. so abt to write a SINFUL part two ☺️☺️☺️
part one -link here!
LABELS: smut omg smut. i’ve never written anything smut so don’t judge pls 😩😩contains, making out, oral sex, sex.

walking to school the next day was a pain. bokutos mind was filled with the guilt of what had happened last night.
he jerked off to the girl in his class, who he still has yet to talk to.
ashamed was an understatement. he was embarrassed and felt inhumane. it was even worse because the problem still hadn’t gone away. he still thought of you in the worst ways. he couldn’t help himself.
closing the distance between him and his class room, his eyes narrowed in on you. the guilt was overwhelming. but you looked so cute in your uniform.
entering the classroom he groaned to himself. sitting down at his assigned desk, putting his hands over his face to try to hide his frustration.
he just liked you so much that it was truly embarrassing. he was bokuto koutarou! one of the top aces in high school volleyball. no girl should have his attention like this.
i am not a man, he thought to himself, hands still covering his face.
“ahem…” he looked up at the person trying to get his attention.
to his absolute shock, you were standing right infront of his desk.
“hi…” you said to him waiting for a response…. the response never came as bokuto just looked up at you mouth agape.
“i didn’t know you were so shy!haha” you try playing off to make it less awkward. his silence seemed to be maybe a message for you to just walk away. and yet you stayed begging for his presence.
“well i’m yn, and i didn’t know if you noticed but we have a partner project in this class…. and we were paired up yesterday…. and before i could figure out a plan with you, you walked out of class before i could talk to you yesterday.” you felt yourself ramble on for what seemed like far to long. his silence was draining.
from what you heard from most people, your schools ace was a huge standout. most calling him extroverted, crazy and annoying.
but right now he sat infront of you saying not a word.
finally he spoke up “oh..” he said. that’s literally all he said.
you stayed for a little longer, watching his face grow into a friendly smile.
“it’s nice to meet you yn! i’m so sorry i didn’t even realize we had an assignment together!! HAHA well don’t worry we can get it figured out. also sorry about yesterday i just rushed off to practice without a second thought” bokutos voice boomed throughout the class room.
you let out a sigh of relief. maybe he was just waking up still? but he sure does seem awake now..
“we can only work on the assignment out side of the school hours…. if your comfortable with it you can come over to my house tonight and we can work on it.” you say smiling down at him.
bokutos prayers have been answered. everything he has ever worked for is being rewarded back to him now.
“yes.!” bokuto replied without hesitation. smile still beaming up at her.
“here’s my number, text me after this class gets out.” you say to him. stealing his phone and saving your contact in his phone. you were a little forward. bokuto was practically gushing.
with that you walked back to your desk and started talking with your friends.
bokuto was so happy he could scream.
the day went on, after you two had agreed on a set time for him to arrive at your house he was counting down the minutes.
he would have to come over after he practiced, meaning he would also have to go home to shower before hand.
it gave you more time to get ready before he made it to your house.
secretly, you had been honing a crush on bokuto for awhile now. when your teacher announced that you two would be in a group together you were thrilled. but when you looked over to bokuto, he seemed… upset.
his face was hard to read. it was a mix of tired, guilt, and anger. you chose to not introduce yourself to him until class was out, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. but before you could he had already left.
that’s why you were so nervous. he was so big, not just tall. that man was beefy. in all the right ways. and you couldn’t even tell if he liked you at all.
of course you would glance at him time to time in class, even showing up to some of his games in previous years. you noticed him.
analyzing yourself in your mirror. checking the time ever so often.
you had taken a shower, got out of the shower and did all your duties to look the best you could. sporting yourself in a way you were most confident.
also going to the measure of cleaning your room. everything had to be perfect.
before you new it your doorbell rang. you rushed to the door, opening to a freshly washed bokuto.
he had on grey sweats and a black hoodie. his hair was still a little damp from his shower, so it wasn’t spiked up in its usual manner. his bangs clung to his forehead.
“heeeLLO” he said to you voice getting a little louder as his word continued.
“hi” you said to him while still looking him up and down. it was a little obvious you were checking him out.
you quickly let him in and gave him a tour of your home. making a mental note to leave your bedroom for last. making a b- line for your kitchen you offered him somthing to drink.
his presence alone was enough. he was just soo huge. you felt his gaze after every corner you took.
“uh yes water is fine.” he said, way more calm.
you got him a glass and sat on your counter top. he was infront of you leaning his back on your cabinet.
as he drank he held a comfortable eye contact with you.
“how was practice?” you spoke up.
he reached forward and put his glass next to you, then leaned back to his formal position.
“i did way better then i did yesterday i can say that much.” he said with a chuckle. his voice was low. deep.
“what happened yesterday?” you asked.
he seemed a little taken back from your question. but it was only a second of that expression that was followed with a smile.
“oh i just didn’t do my best. my teammates say i get in my own head sometimes but even my worst is not that bad soo” he said with a low chuckle again. his grin never really left his face.
he was confident in himself that was forsure. you thought you should atleast see where you stand with him. gathering up all the confidence you had to flirt with him just a tinyyy bit.
“oh so you must be gooood.” you say leaning forward a little, still perched on your counter top. you made sure you arch your back a little, even though he couldn’t see it from where he was sitting. you applied the action anyways.
bokutos ears perked up a little. he sure did love flattery.
“i mean, yeah. i’m pretty good.” he said non chalantly. leaning forward a little more as well.
“tell me bokuto, how good are you?” you asked. leaning just as much as you could without falling off the counter top.
“oh i’m pretty good. but i can’t tell you how good i am… it’s something you have to experience yourself.” he said, smug. grin still on his face.
as he spoke he had stopped leaning against your counter top.
he got closer to you, your heart beat picked up. he then picked up his hand, reaching out.
just as you thought he was going to touch you, he picked up his glass beside you. blushing your thigh in the action.
he picked up his glass and finished the rest of his water with a gulp.
smug bastard. you thought to yourself.
you then got back onto your feet and started walking out of the kitchen. bokuto taking that as his note to follow behind you.
you silently led him to your room. anticipating whatever came next.
as you waked bokuto stared. he stared at your ass, your hips, your waist. anything he could look at he took a mental picture of.
this could be the only time he was this close to you. he thought.
opening the door to your room you, you showed him around.
“you can sit anywhere your comfortable with, but i did get an extra chair for you at my desk.” you say to him. going and taking a seat next to the school work you had already laid out.
bokuto was taking in everything. your posters, your decorations, anything you had in their he was saving in a file in his brain.
he finally sat down next to you.
you started going over the project, he would follow your words with some “hmm” or “ook” but overall he didn’t seem very into it.
all bokuto could think about is you stuffed full of his cock. really it was a shame. you were talking to him and that’s all he could think about. he watched your lips as they instructed him. that’s all he really watched.
“bokuto.” you said in a firm voice.
“are you even listening?” you said to him slightly annoyed.
“uhh yea…” he replied guilt sinking in once again.
he was evil. he wanted you. he felt as if you had just teased him in the kitchen too. he wanted to get you back. bad.
he licked his lips. confidence surging through him for a second. he opened his mouth to say somthing.
but the words never came. blush flooded his face. you probably think he’s stupid at this point.
“you are so pretty.” he said quickly. it came out of nowhere. he didn’t even mean to say it. he was so embarrassed!
but there was no way you were gonna know how embarrassed he is. no, bokuto koutaro never gets embarrassed!
you stare back at him. confused. but to all honestly. you were aching for him. his frame so close to yours, made you painfully aware of how big he was.
and he just called you pretty. what even in your next move! what are you supposed to say to that!
“y/n…” he said quietly. it was soft. he had gotten closer to you then you realized. you could feel his breath on your lips.
“bokuto…” you whispered back to him. the distance was painful.
before you could register he had his lips on yours. closing the gap. you locked your lips with his. it was just a quick kiss. romantic if anything.
you two pulled away. staring him in the eyes, there was a hunger.
“i need more” he said before grabbing you cheeks and closing the distance again. you were shocked. this must be a dream.
your hands found his body. scooting as close as you could without falling off your chair. one of your hands found his bicep. the other on his shoulder.
the kisses grew hungrier. his pace picked up. you gasped when his hand found your thigh. it was a comfortable position.
he took this chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. you purrred against him.
your touches grew with sexual tension. you parted for a second to catch your breath. a line of saliva connecting you two.
“c’mere” he said scooting his chair back alittle. signaling you to get out of your chair.
you stood up waiting further instruction.
he reached up and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him. he was still seated, legs apart.
you felt like you were on fire. his eyes took in all off you. his hands rubbed your hips. even going a little farther to pinch at the fat of your ass.
“wanna sit on my lap?” he said tilting his head to the side. you shook your head and slowly made your way to his lap. you were positioned so you could face him.
his hands cradled you, finding your curves.
“you think i’m pretty?” you said to him bringing your hands to his jaw.
“you have no idea.” he breathed out.
finding his lips again except the tension in the room was now thick. you were growing a pool in your panties. every touch of his fingers was doing numbers to your core.
without knowing it you slowly started to grind yourself against him. you only noticed when you felt bokuto grow underneath you. his hands moved to your ass. grabbing at it.
then his hands slowly fell even farther. coming concerningly close to your core.
“y/n…. can i…?” he parted quickly. out of breath begging you for more.
“yes bokuto.” you moaned out to him. still grinding your hips against him.
“do whatever you want” you moaned out throwing your head back. you were growing needy.
without any words bokuto grabbed you and picked you up. putting you down on the bed.
your back was on the bed with your legs folded to your chest. he had ahold of your shins.
he was standing above you grinning like a kid in a candy shop.
“i’ve been waiting for this.” he stated.
his fingers graced over your core, you sucked in breath.
“you have?” you whimpered out.
“i have liked you for quite sometime. i have even dreamt of doing somthing like this too you. y/n… you have no idea.” he said while taking off your pants. you were left in only your underwear. then he started working on your shirt, pulling it off over your head.
now being left only in your bra you felt very conscious of everything.
“fuck…” he said to himself seeing you drenched through your panties. this was truly his dream.
“can i?” he said before continuing.
you shook your head yes.
he touched your clothed core with a certain grace. seeming like he was afraid to hurt you. you moaned out at his touch.
your ass was almost off the bed when he slowly came to the ground squatting on two knees.
you soon realized what he wanted to do.
“bo… you don’t have too” you said painfully, when al you really wanted was his tongue on your cunt.
“i want to.” he said before stuffing his face into your core.
you still had your panties on but the friction was just too much. you moaned out back arching for him.
he was hooked. he circled anything he could with his tongue, even taking breaks to kiss your stomach. he finally took your underwear off.
staring at your naked core he was in love. he wanted to be the only man to ever see you like this.
experimentally he blew on it, seeing your body react and you moan out. he loved his life.
diving back into you he licked all of you. slurping up your juices, sucking at your clit. taking every angle he could to make you feel good.
“more…” you whimpered out.
he brought his fingers up to your hole without warning. he played with our rimming a finger around your clenched spot. sticking it in you he stucked on your clit simultaneously.
you moaned out. it was really too much. your core was building up at a fast rate as his finger pumped in and out of you.
he stoped and stood infront of you again. you looked up at him wondering why he had to hault your pleasure.
he took off his hoodie and sweats leaving himself in just his boxers.
and oh. my. god. he was wonderful. he was everything you could ever dream.
“bokuto… i need you.” you told him.
he was on fire right now. you were sprawled out on the bed, cunt for his to see.
“fuck… you drive me insane.” he said pulling his boxers down to free his length.
“oh my god” you moaned out. it was huge. there was no way that was going to inside you. his one finger did the job, so what is that thing even going to do to you.
“cmon baby you can take me.” he said lying down next to you on the bed. you crouch up on your knees.
“ride me.” he demanded.
you positioned yourself on top of him. grabbing at his his abs as you mentally prepped yourself for what was gonna be inside you.
slowly you reach down for his cock. he had already been stroking it.
you touch it and he lets in a sharp gasp of air. you give it a good couple pumps
“hah” he moaned out. you had kept eye contact the hold time you entered him in you.
lowering yourself as best you can. his face was of euphoria.
“bokuto… your tooooo big hah” you moaned out to him.
“call me koutarou” he gasped out.
you found the strength to get him in you. bottoming out you clenched around him.
“fuuuck kou” you moaned out. you started grinding yourself against him.
it was the best pain you had ever felt.
“your beautiful. oh my god.” he said as his hands found your boobs.
pulling your bra down and bringing his lips to your hardened nipples.
your back arched for him. you moaned out louder and louder.
bouncing against him. this was all he ever wanted. he was in heaven.
you felt that familiar coil in your core tighten up again.
and bokuto could tell. he felt your walls clench around him as your threw your head back.
before he could think about it he changed positions. throwing you on your back and into a missionary position.
he took it to himself to start pounding into you.
“kou… nnnits too muchhch” you moaned out. it was almost hard to hear because of the sound your pussy was making.
“cmon. you can take it” he grunted out, slamming himself into you.
you moaned more. eye contact the whole time he fucked you.
the way you clenched around him was almost painful. but he could tell you were close.
he brought his fingers to your sensitive bud.
“cum for me. come on baby you can do it.” he grunted.
“come on my cock.” he grunted even more.
you were so close.
“your mine, understand?”
that sent you have the edge. you clamped around him spasmsing through your orgasm.
bokuto barely pulled out in time to cum on your stomach.
“i’m yours im yours im yours…” you babbled off to yourself.
fuck.
you were both drained.
who ever thought this is where you would be.
he got up to get a tissue for you to wipe you off. then coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.
“i’ll be right back” he said he before he left.
he came back with some water and helped you up.
“what’s going on?” you asked still faint from your orgasm.
“i started a shower for us!” he beamed at you.
yep. he could definitely be the one for you.
………………………………………………………………………………….
- WOWWWWW WHAT DID I JUST WRITE! this is my longest and still some of my first works i’ve put out. well i hope you like it also. comment any ideas you guys have for me!
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#daichi x reader#haikyu fluff#haikyu manga#daichi sawamura x reader#anime#manga#haikyuu smau#bokuto#msby bokuto#bokuto x you#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokuto smut#hq bokuto#bokuto x reader#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto koutarou#bokuto fluff#smut#haikyu smut#haikyuu smut#twt links#bokuto x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader smut#haikyuu x y/n
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You don’t even notice. That’s kind of the point of the whole hiding in plain sight thing, after all. When you go out to your car at 2 a.m. after one of the longest workdays of recent memory, everything is where you left it. Your car, right down to the license plate. Alone in the parking lot, because everyone else had gone home ages ago. You put your key in the door, settle in to the familiar seat. Pull on your seatbelt. Crank the ignition. No music this late. You get home without even thinking about it, navigating by familiar roads. You go inside, and collapse into bed.
You have the next day off, thankfully. You didn’t bother plugging your phone in to charge, in a passive-aggressive hint to work that you won’t be available. Sometimes you just get overwhelmed, and need to shut the world away. So you do.
You’re enjoying a nice cup of coffee made just the way you like it, and flip on your tv. Sports, commercials, travel show, old sitcom rerun, cartoons, a news show with footage of your car being dragged out of the lake, The Price is Right.
You frown. You click backwards. That was just a coincidence. Just the same color, maybe the same make of car? You flip back in time to see the cops standing around looking very serious, and the tow truck driver clamping the wheels onto the flatbed. You drop your coffee mug, narrowly missing your bare feet with the splash of coffee that spills onto the floor. You keep staring even as the news anchors cut back to the studio.
That was your license plate number. That was your funny bumper sticker. That was the little dent from a runaway shopping cart at the grocery store. That was your fucking car!
“-found by a fisherman early this morning. Police have been unable to locate the owner, and teams of divers are en route to begin searching the lake. If you have any information about this case, they ask that you call 911.”
Someone stole your car. And drove it into the lake. And - oh, shit. Your phone. Did you leave it in your car? Or had you put it in your bag and brought it in? You were so tired last night you can’t remember. You start tossing your house upside-down trying to find it. As you pass by the window, you catch a glimpse of sunlight reflecting on metal. You stop in your tracks and back up.
Your car is sitting in the driveway.
You were freaked out before, but now you’re starting to doubt your sanity a little. You go outside, still barefoot, and slowly approach your car. You walk around it, looking to see if anything is different. There’s the dent. The license plate. The bumper sticker. The little face on the front of the hood where the manufacturer’s logo should be.
You stand in front of the car and stare at that little face. You…have never seen that before. Is this some kind of prank? Who would even pull something like this? Why?
I don’t think this is my car, you say aloud, just trying the idea on for size. Because you’re feeling a little as if you’re slipping sideways to reality, here, and would like for things to start making sense again immediately. You stare accusingly at the car that looks like yours in every way possible, but can’t be, because objects can’t be in two places at the same time.
How in the hell. You pull open the door and slide into the seat. Yeah, there’s your dead phone, still in your bag where you left it. You pull it out. Talking to yourself to try and ward off the awful shivers you’re getting down your spine, and the way the hair is standing up on the back of your neck.
Okay, it’s okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but I better call the emergency services and let them know I’m not dead even though they found my car in the lake. Or something that looked like my car.
You very briefly wonder if maybe time travel is real and at some point you are going to end up driving into the water. You don’t get to finish that thought because as you move to get out, the door slams shut and the locks click. The engine starts up and yeah no this is not your car, because that sounds like some muscle car engine, not your dinky little passenger vehicle.
You grab at the door and yank, then pound on the glass in a panic. Let me out! Somebody HELP! God, what is this, some self-driving…
I really am sorry about this. Your vehicle was the only one available for me to scan, but then I had to get rid of the original, and - oh Primus, I’ve made a mess of this haven’t I? Optimus is going to - no no don’t, don’t make that noise! Please? I’m not going to hurt you! I like organics! You’re fascinating!
Later you’ll find him just as fascinating, and become quite good friends with the brilliant, if absent-minded engineer named Wheeljack. But in the moment, your nervous system decides it’s had enough of this, thank you very much.
Wait, no, don’t - ! Um. Oh, dear. His internal cameras scan over your unconscious form. Fainted, the internet calls it. He had only meant to stop you from calling the authorities, not scare you into crashing!
Before he can figure out what to do about it, the enemy signal he’d been running from since arriving on earth two days ago, pings in his sensor array.
And now he’s accidentally endangered you. He can hardly leave you behind, with the Decepticons on the prowl. Primus only knows what they’ll do to you if they connect you to him. He slides a seatbelt over you, and darkens the windows so no one can look in.
Sorry again, little one, but it looks like you’re coming with me.
#get abducted by aliens idiot#oops everyone thinks you’re dead#transformers x human#transformers x reader#transformers first contact au#human distribution system#wheeljack x reader
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your number.
one shot:-
summary: you and chris meet at a wedding,but your second interaction is not much like your first.
warnings: unprotected sex (nuh uh dont do that),p in v,smut,idk what else to add
a/n: do not copy my work,use it as inspiration idm,english is not my first language.
“you’re the groom’s sister right?” asked chris,to whom you were introduced to just about a minute ago.
“yeah,also one of the bridesmades” you nodded
“i noticed the dress code-that dress really looks good on you by the way” chris compliments awkwardly,not knowing what to say especially when he found you so breathtakingly beautiful.
“thank you! i will see you around after the ceremony?” you ask
“yeah-definitely” chris replies
you’re currently in the bathroom after the ceremony,wiping off tears and fixing your makeup when the door creaks open
“fuck-i must’ve walked into the wrong bathroom sorry” you watched as chris was stepping out immediately
“its a general bathroom stupid” you let a chuckle through your teeth.
“oh” chris pressed his lips together before walking in.
“you okay?” he comes closer to you,now standing in front of the mirror with you.
“yeah just a little overwhelmed” you smile at him.
“you know you’re the prettiest girl at this wedding” chris whispers out of nowhere,you let out a scoff.
“i am sure there are prettier girls here chris”
“no but you dont get it-the way this dress fits you,the way it makes your ass look so fucking delectable in it” chris lets out a small breath,kind of afraid of what you might reply with.
“yeah? and what else do you think makes me so pretty?” you look straight into chris’ eyes,making him harder than before (he has been bricked since he shook hands with you) chris’ breath hitched before he could answer the question.
“fuck-your tits-your fucking tits oh my god” chris groans before completing his sentence.
“looked so perfect when you were dancing” chris got closer to your face,both of you can feel each others breaths on your faces.
“fuck it” you said before smashing your lips onto his,both of your mouths tasting like the champagne being served at the wedding,your lips moving fast enough for chris to catch up smoothly,hungry for something more.
chris groans into the kiss,because this was better than he imagined and trust him-this is all he has been thinking of since he walked into this wedding.
your hand swiftly goes over to the lock on the bathroom door,clicking it and locking the both of you without breaking the kiss,chris felt your action take place and was quick to react. he pulled you up by your thighs and placed you on the bathroom counter effortlessly. a whimper leaving your mouth.
chris wasted no time and found your lips again,his hands roaming all over your body with desperation,over the silk dress you’ve worn. your hands drop from his hair to the straps of your dress,pulling each down with no efforts.
chris’ hands were all over your tits,and once the straps were off he could see that it would be easy to get them out of the dress you’ve worn.
“can i?” chris pulls away and asks tugging the neckline of your dress,you nod hastily between breaths .chris pulls the neckline enough for your tits to pop out on their own.
“fuck” chris groans before he leans down to kiss you all over your neck and eventually reaching to one of your nipples. your head thrown back,eyes fluttering,and the ache between your thighs becoming harder to bare with each one of his actions.
you pull on the tie wrapped around chris’ neck and bring him to your face “now fuck me” you speak,feeling impatient than ever.
chris could cum at your words and the way you said them,but he held his calm before wrapping one arm around your waist and putting you down from the counter and swiftly turning you around.
your ass in the air,just right at his dick level. he rolled your dress up to your abdomen now looking at your baby pink laced panties-soaked. a grin forms on his face and he looks up to the mirror to see your face in it,bent down,eyebrows knit.
he quickly unbuckled his belt and dropped down his pants and boxers,his tip leaking pre cum. he puts two of his fingers on the wet patch on your panties slowly circling around till he figured out where your clit is.
“chr—is” you whimper loudly,hinting that you are done with the teasing. he pulls your panties down and watches how your pussy drips in front of his sight-again he might cum just by the visuals alone.
“i dont have a condom” chris spoke looking at your through the mirror.
“im on the pill,just cum in me” you look up at him in the mirror. your words do something to him,he cannot wait to fill you up.
he slaps his dick on your pussy a few times making both of your groan- before parting your folds with his fingers and and slowly aligning his tip with your entrance.
he slowly and patiently went all in,till his dick disappeared in your pussy. “oh-fuck-oh—” you moan out loud,eyes shut because of how big he is.
chris slowly starts moving “god-fuck so good-” chris eyes roll back as he feels you wrapped around his dick. a series of sounds start to leave your mouth and makes chris look at you through the mirror. your hair messy,makeup ruined,tits out,whimpering.
“fuck you look so fucking hot i—” chris spoke between heavy breaths as he thrusts into you. his words only making the sounds you make louder. he increases his speed and also starts thrusting harder,the sound of skin slapping almost pornographic.
with each thrust he hit that one spot that made your toes curl. “fuck-chris you’re so big” you spoke
chris’ head snaps from your ass to the mirror,looking at you wide eyed now,his dick twitching inside of you,his thrust’ getting faster and deeper
“yea-? oh-” he spoke looking at you,to which you try to nodded with how much how your body was shaking with chris’ thrusts.
“you take—me so well-ah” chris tried speaking feeling his orgasm coming closer with each thrust
“fuck fuck-chris im cumming fuck-oh my god fuck fu——-” the last swear becoming a screech as you crash down with your orgasm. your back arched,ass all up in chris’ dick,you’re shaking under his body.
for chris-he had been holding it in, waiting for you to finish first and just as you finished,and put your ass all up in him he couldn’t hold it in any longer
“oh my go-oh-oh” he came,thrusting in you a couple more times to make sure his cum is all in there.
he crashes down,his face laid on your ass,eyes closed quite literally in heaven.
you turn yourself around,chris not leaving his grip on you so now he is hugging your waist. you bring your hand down to ruffle his hair.
chris looks up at you with his fucked out face,
“give me your number right now” you chuckle at his words nodding.
#chris sturiolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#chris x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#matt stuniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris imagine#chris smut#sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt smut#nic sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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The Popular Vote
The livestream always happens on midnight of Saturday. There’s a hefty buy-in to be able to tune in but that never stops the audience from growing in number every stream. Every viewer has one ballot per round, each round is different. Cast your ballot before the vote ends and the majority option gets played out in real-time.
This Saturday night, I made the mistake of staying overtime at work, and I missed the last train home. Which meant walking alone on a dark path that, in the daylight, would be a breezy twenty minute stroll. But at night, it’s a different story. And clearly, since that dark trek put me in the perfect position to be taken away in a van by men who were interested in seeing me crying and screaming in pain and pleasure, at the whim of a merciless audience.
When I wake up, I’m naked and tied up, arms and legs spread out, suspended from the ceiling, with each foot on a small platform that offered enough support to take the strain off my arms and shoulders but not enough to offer any true leverage.
It takes me a few minutes to shake off the grogginess of whatever sedative they’d drugged me with, but when I do, I feel my blood run cold.
I’m surrounded by massive screens, several of which show live footage of my predicament from different angles. The screen that scares me the most is the one showing a live chat feed, with a constant barrage of messages coming in from viewers. The set-up is terrifyingly sophisticated and fear curdles my stomach in a way that makes tears well up in my eyes.
“Please! Please let me go!” I cry into the cold, unfeeling room of machinery and screens. My body struggles against the bindings but there’s no give. There’s no audible reply but I watch the chat light up with comments that make me shudder.
“I fucking love when the whores beg before we’ve even started.”
“She’s hot when she’s squirming, can’t wait to see how much she struggles tonight.”
“I wanna see her beg for mercy. Not that there will be any.”
I sob harder, tears making the chat box blurry in my vision. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out that there’s no one and nothing saving me from whatever is going to happen here.
Suddenly, a robotic voice fills the room. “Welcome to The Popular Vote. For those of you who are new to the show, please remember that each of you have a single vote to cast during every round. Vote in the allotted time and our team will implement the majority vote’s decision. Please enjoy the show.”
I gasp when the door to the room opens and four men walk in, dressed in identical black uniforms with masks covering their faces.
“Please! Please, let me go, this is a mistake!” My desperate voice fills the room but has no impact on the men, they didn’t even look in my direction, instead walking past me towards a storage cabinet behind me.
I watch through the camera’s footage as they open the cabinets and start to pull out item after item. Each one makes me more and more scared as they pull out various toys, vibrators, and other devices and machines I don’t even recognize.
There’s an electronic ding that fills the room and the same robotic voice is back. “Our first poll is beginning. Please vote now. Option 1 is subjecting our victim to clitoral stimulation by vibrator. Option 2 is vaginal penetrative stimulation by fucking machine.”
I cry out, “Wait, no, please! I don’t want this, please stop!” I watch in vain as the votes start to roll in on the screen, a feeling of helplessness overwhelming me as I watch two competing bars increase in percentage on the screen as viewers place their ballots.
There’s a robotic series of dings that sound, signaling the final few seconds of voting and through my panic, I see that the second option has pulled ahead of the first.
I choke out another sob as I watch the four men in the room start moving towards me. Two of them are rolling a machine over, a motorized piston with a massive dildo attached to the end of it. Clearly it’s meant for me.
“Please, please, no, I don’t want this, please stop!” I know it’s useless to beg but I can’t help it. My voice is shaky and thin with apprehension and I can tell it has no effect on any of the men. I glance to the chat box and the messages there make me feel even more helpless.
“That whore is going to love that machine, these little sluts always do.”
“I hope she squirts and cries when she realizes she likes this, stupid whore is going to get fucking ruined.”
In the few moments I spent reading comments, the men have rolled the fucking machine right under me and started to raise it to reach my core.
With my legs tied down and spread, there is nothing protecting me from the toy and it’s violation of me. I feel the tip of the fake cock brush my core and I thrash pointlessly, barely able to move to make a difference.
As the machine continues to rise, I feel my stomach clench when I realize that my pussy is wet. I gasp when I feel the tip of the dildo breach my core, the thickness of the toy filling me so well that I can’t help but groan. The machine continues, pushing the toy slowly and steadily filling my cunt. My back arches as I feel it rub against every part of my now-dripping cunt and I whine when it finally comes to a stop, fully seated inside of me.
I’m panting, the massive dildo splitting me open in a way that feels so fucking good. I clench around it and whimper when pleasure shoots up my spine. I glance at the livestream and see my own image, my eyes wild and body heaving from the pleasure of just having the toy inside of me. The chat box is flooded with comments about me, the way I look, the sounds I make, and the anticipation of what is to come.
Suddenly, one of the men in the room toggles a switch on the machine, and it begins.
My scream is drawn-out and wanton in response to the indescribable pleasure that floods my every sense. The men set the machine at a relentless pace, the huge cock driving into my cunt ruthlessly at a pace that is virtually inhuman.
I’m lost in the sensation of every single thrust sliding against my g-spot and slamming into my cervix, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I can feel my body trembling at the onslaught of raw, unadulterated pleasure and the sounds that the machine is pulling from my lips could make a pornstar blush. I can feel the creeping warmth of an orgasm fast approaching as the machine fucks me into submission.
Suddenly, an electronic ding sounds. The robotic voice comes on again, with an announcement that barely registers in my pleasure-scrambled brain. “Please vote to determine the next step. Option 1 subjects our victim to forced orgasms, option 2 is edging and orgasm denial, and option 3 is ruined orgasms.”
I whine and plead but I don’t even know what I’m begging for. My eyes are too unfocused to see the progression of the vote, and of the options, I can’t even begin to fathom which would be the best. I hear the three dings that signal the vote has ended and I force my eyes to focus on the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the result: ruined orgasms.
The machine hasn’t relented on its motions, each thrust driving into my wet cunt in a way that is so perfectly and achingly torturous. My clit is throbbing and part of me wishes I could grind it against something, anything to give me a little more stimulation to push me over the edge. But there’s nothing beyond the machine forcing its cock deep inside of me, making me ride the wave of pleasure that pushes me towards to precipice of a massive orgasm. I feel my entire body tense in response to the impending onslaught of pleasure and my pussy clenches around the dildo splitting me open.
Two more hard thrusts pushes me over the edge and I let out a moaning scream as I feel the tension snap and my body clenches in burning pleasure. A seemingly endless wave of overwhelming and uncontrollable pleasure slams into me as my orgasm erupts. At that exact moment, the toy inside of me a delivers a horrible jolt of electricity, one that slams through my cunt and cruelly and abruptly yanks my body away from pleasure.
The pain takes my breath away but my body reacts more to my ruined orgasm than it does the shock. My moan turns into a wail as useless pleas pour out of my mouth, tears running down my cheeks as I feel the toy continue to fuck me through the disappointment of an orgasm it forced upon me. There’s a cruel emptiness inside of me despite the unrelenting fake cock that fills me with every thrust and a gut-wrenching, unfulfilling hunger that overtakes the pleasure that was horribly ripped away from me.
“Ah, fuck, please, please make it stop!” My voice is ragged and desperate as I plead for mercy from an uncaring audience. The men in the room are maintaining their cold indifference towards my suffering as the machine under their control continues to batter my body.
I feel my body shudder in overstimulation as the merciless machine pushes me closer to another orgasm. There’s no break or respite and my pleas fall onto deaf ears.
And as before, just as I feel my orgasm approaching, the feverish pleasure barely rises within me before it’s ripped away, ruined by the delivery of a shocking pain through my pussy that makes me scream in anguish.
The next time it happens, I hear myself wail out desperate cries and pleas that are met with silence. The time after that, my body jerks pitifully in the bindings as every muscle tenses in grief. The one following is the strongest one yet, the constant buildup and denial pushing my body to the brink of tortured pleasure. As the achingly sweet orgasm barrels through me, my pussy clenches down and gushes with my release. I can feel my own juices flowing down my legs, but my squirting orgasm isn’t any different than the previous cruelly ruined ones. The impeccably-timed electric shock yanks my body back from what would have been a mind-shattering, toe-curling sensation and leaves me feeling hollow and helpless.
After that, I stop keeping track of the ruined orgasms. My body should have been shuddering from the overstimulation of countless orgasms but instead, it aches with a voracious, unfulfillable ache that creates an unbearable cycle of horrible, desperate need barely satisfied with every orgasm until it’s torn away. The predictability of it does nothing to assuage the torment, it only makes it worse, to have every beautiful moment of pleasure marred by the inevitable loss that I can do nothing about.
An electronic ding breaks through the haze, another round. The machine beneath me pauses and I choke back a sob at the temporary relief, desperately try to focus on the words that are being announced.
“Our next round will be introducing pharmacological enhancements and orgasm denial. Please select to determine which of the following will be administered to our victim. Option 1 is administration of our proprietary aphrodisiac with no excess stimulation. Option 2 is administration of our proprietary numbing treatment with clitoral stimulation by vibrator.”
My mind wraps around the meaning behind the announcement and I feel myself tremble with desperation. I want nothing more than to cum, just to feel the full, body-shaking, mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that will flood me when a full, uninterrupted orgasm washes over me. But it’s clear that they have other plans.
I watch as the votes roll in, my heart pounding as the two options are very evenly matched in popularity. I brave a glance at the chat box and whimper when I see the comments.
“I fucking love driving a whore insane with denial. I wonder what kind of promises she’ll make to try and convince us to let her cum.”
“If she were mine, I’d never let her cum again. Sluts don’t deserve orgasms.”
Three dings break my concentration and I swing my gaze over to see the results. Option 2 has won out, but barely. I whimper softly as the four men immediately begin to set up. I watch as they wheel the fucking machine out from under me. A blush stains my cheeks when I see the dildo dripping in slick, evidence of my countless ruined orgasms.
I watch through heavy lidded eyes as one of the men reached for a small container. He deftly opens it and dips a gloved finger in, his finger coming out coated in a creamy ointment.
I watch as he comes towards me, his ointment-covered fingers coming to meet my clit in a soft motion that makes me cry out. He is thorough as he rubs the ointment onto my clit, his fingers gently moving against me, offering a delicious friction that pushes me closer towards another orgasm.
The curling warmth of an oncoming rush builds in my core but before I could fully embrace the pleasure, he pulls away and I choke out a whine. “No please, please I’m so close,” my voice is so broken to my own ears but not enough to sway the man.
They wheel out a different machine, this one shaped like a saddle, lined with ridges that line up perfectly to vibrate against and wreak havoc on my sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for the men to position the machine underneath me. I feel the cold material of the machine against my burning hot pussy and without even thinking about it, I start to grind myself against it. A broken moan leaves my lips at the pleasure that fills me and I whine softly, trying harder to move myself to rub my throbbing clit against the machine that was very quickly starting to dampen from my dripping cunt.
I know without looking at my own image on the livestream that I made for a shameful display of wanton lust and desperation but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My hips move desperately, the bindings making it so that my movements were limited but not impossible. My eyes drift shut as I chase the pleasure, continuing to grind against the machine.
I can feel myself approaching my orgasm, a few more moments and I could almost taste the sweet pleasure. But something was wrong. Even as I rolled my hips against the machine, I could feel sensation fading in between my legs. My clit throbs and aches but the feeling of the ridges against me has become muted, and no matter how hard I grind myself against the machine, the result was the same and I’m faced with the reality that the orgasm I was chasing so closely is too far out of reach now.
I cry out, begging into the void, “Please, no, please! Make it come back, please! I need to cum, I need it!”
My begs are met with silence and I glance towards the chat box, hoping to see something, anything, that would bring me relief. But there’s nothing but cruel, taunting comments.
“Dumb fucking whore doesn’t even understand what’s happening to her stupid body.”
“They haven’t even turned on the machine yet and she’s crying. I love when sluts realize that there’s nothing they can do against the numbing cream.”
“Her clit is so fucking swollen, I hope she doesn’t get a good orgasm at all tonight.”
Suddenly, the machine beneath me roars to life. I gasp when I feel the vibrations course through my body, the harsh motion batters my clit, but instead of being overwhelmed with pleasure, all I can feel is a vague sensation. I sob when the real understanding of what is happening sinks in. The numbing cream they used on me has left me completely unable to feel the machine. I can feel my pussy clenching in need, dripping over the machine uselessly, unable to enjoy any of it. There are wordless whines and begs erupting from my lips as I chase an unreachable end. I beg because there’s nothing else I can do, and because I know that’s what the audience wants to see.
As my mind wraps around this knowledge, I feel broken. My pussy clenches at the understanding that I’m here purely for other people’s entertainment. My suffering is for their enjoyment, and every orgasm ruined, denied, or forced out of my helpless body is done so without any regard to me or my pleasure. I stare into the camera as the machine underneath me batters my clit in a way that should be making me scream. Despite that realization, or maybe because of that realization, my cunt is leaking and clenching and throbbing. My entire being has narrowed to my clit and my cunt, the ghost sensations of pleasure brushing against my psyche.
My mind is fracturing under the torment of nothing. It tries to rationalize, to make feeling where there is none, and if I really focus, I can fool myself into believing that my clit isn’t numb, isn’t blind to the torturous machine that should be pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. I don’t know how long I’m suspended in nothingness, how long I’m held in this punishing situation of unreachable pleasure.
Three dings pull me out of my mindless misery. My eyes jump to the screen, seeing the chat light up with excited comments about what’s the come. The robotic voice fills the room.
“We reach the end of our night together and our final poll, please vote now. Option 1 allows our victim to be subjected to forced orgasms after we administer the antidote to the numbing cream in combination with targeted electrostimulation while option 2 involves continued denial with impact play and flogging.”
I can’t stop myself from screaming into the room. “Please! Please, fuck, please let me cum! Please!”
I writhe and renew my struggling, starting to futilely grind myself against the vibrator, hoping that the vote will go in my favor. My eyes glance towards to chat box, my heart pounding in anticipation as I read the flood of messages, hoping desperately for mercy.
“I don’t think this fucking whore deserves to cum tonight, I’d rather see her get her tits whipped.”
“I want to see her pass out from being forced to cum over and over again. Plus I wanna see her tight little body shake with electricity.”
My eyes flit to the results of the poll and my heart leaps when I realize option 1 is pulling ahead. Three dings confirm the results of the vote and immediately, I see one of the men approach me with the antidote.
I sob when his fingers brush this new ointment over my swollen clit and all I can do is babble out whines of gratitude. It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect as the vibration of the toy begins to wreck me.
There’s no slow, soft build of pleasure. There’s only pure, bone-shattering sensation that slams into me. It tears my breath away and my body erupts in orgasm. The countless denied and ruined orgasms from the beginning of the night seem to have compounded into one horrible explosion of pleasure that rips through me.
I have no sense of the world around me, my entire being has narrowed to the overwhelming wave of sensation. My cunt pulses, spraying my release over the machine that offers me no respite as it forces my body to unimaginable heights.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain along my side breaks into my haze. My eyes dart over and I see the four men crowded around me, each holding an electric wand that pulses a harsh zap through me at every touch.
“No! Please! Stop!” I scream, my voice pitching higher as the men start their torment. Quick jabs around the soft skin of my stomach, hips, thighs, and arms make me scream and thrash but none of that dulls any of the feeling from the vibrator between my legs.
The pain and pleasure rocks through my body and mind, both blending together in a cruel medley that draws wordless screams from my throat. Another orgasm slams through me right as I feel a terrible zap on my nipple. The scream that bursts out of me makes my own ears ache. My psyche is cracking under the onslaught of torment and there’s not a single part of my body that isn’t screaming in overstimulation. I’m nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and throbbing muscles.
The next zap hits the exposed part of my clit and my ears ring as my vision fades to black. That’s the last thing I remember from that night.
When I wake up the next morning, I’m home, in my own bed, my body achingly sore and exhausted. I glance to my bedside table and I see an envelope. In it is a USB and a note with a phone number.
“Enjoy the footage, we certainly did. Call us if you want a repeat.”
I crawl out of bed to grab my laptop and phone, and I save the number to my contacts.
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Author's Note: I think this is my longest story yet and hope y'all enjoy! Also, I like to imagine this happens in the same universe as Pay to Play, and I'm jealous because I want to live in that universe ;)
#nsft concept#overstim kink#cl1t torture#dark fantasy#mind break#rap3 fantasy#edging kink#kidnap fantasy#wanderswrites
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☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER
summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.
wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)
cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!
authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.

geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’
he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.
he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.
“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.
“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”
you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.
"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."
he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."
the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.
"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."
for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.
"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."
"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.
his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."
“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.”
“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”
you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"
his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?
“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”
“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”
“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”
“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”
“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”
he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."
"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"
his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."
“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”
“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.
your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"
geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."
"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."
he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."
you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."
“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering.
your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.
but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"
you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.
his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.
you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.
the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.
everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.
you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.
“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit.
you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.
“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.
geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”
you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.
your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt.
“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices.
geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.
“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.
you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.
geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.
you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.
geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”
“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.
you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have.
you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.
geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.
“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.
but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.
“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.
“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.”
you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further.
“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.
“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”
you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you.
“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.
he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”
“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise.
“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.
you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other.
geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”
“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens.
the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.
you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.
his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.
geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.
“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.
“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.
“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.
“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.
“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.
“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.
geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”
“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same.
“i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but
“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.
but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”
geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”
you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.

AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹
#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk angst#geto angst#jjk fic#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru#jujustsu kaisen x reader#geto x you#geto suguru x you#jujutsu kaisen angst
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