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gukcnt · 5 days ago

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01 | BOUND BY VOWS ⭒ JJK

your world crumbles when you're forced into a marriage with jeon jungkook, a man whose commanding presence terrifies you, reminding you of your father's cruelty. Yet beneath his coldness, jungkook’s unexpected kindness stirs a spark of hope, making you question everything you fear. Your life together starts—an emotional journey of two hearts seeking comfort, healing and a chance at love

pairing — dom!jungkook x sub!femreader

genre — arranged marriage au, forced marriage, marriage of convenience, age gap, reader is of age, forbidden love, forced proximity, enemies to friends to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, rich ceo!jungkook, shy!reader, virgin!reader, poor!reader, obsession and possessive love, pining, slow burn, contrast of worlds, romance, drama, lots of angst, smut, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, childhood trauma, emotional abuse, power dynamics, mentions of domestic violence, grief and loss, several crying scenes, panic attack, mental health struggles, hunger, illness, manipulation from readers father, several mentions of trauma and fear, isolation, betrayal and sacrifice

wc — 6.8k

a/n — this series was highly anticipated by many of you lovies, so i hope y'all enjoy it! this is just the first chapter—there's so much more to unfold hehe! <3

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

jungkook sat in his usual leather chair.

The chair creaking under his powerful frame as he looked at the laptop on his desk.

A half empty pack of cigarettes beside it.

At the age of 36, jungkook has built his empire with hardship, blood and sweat.

His muscular body straining against the black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and his dark, rugged hair was tied in a loose man bun, a few strands escaping it.

Those strands highlighted his sharp features even more.

His dark eyes held an intensity that was capable of even shaking the bravest people to the core with just a single glance of his.

The smell of his usual expensive cologne and cigarettes filled the office, a masculine scent that was his only.

The silence broken by jungkook's fingers tapping on his phone, each text of his was a command for his employees to get their job done.

His brows were drawn together, always with displeasure because all his workers were aware of how hard it is to satisfy the ceo.

His scowl felt almost natural to him now.

“Get me the reports by tonight.”

He'd snapped earlier that day, having no mercy at all.

When he spoke, his voice roughened with a growl, something that has evolved from years of barking orders.

“no excuses.”

The line went dead as he didn’t bother to hear what the person had to say, his lips twitched—not in satisfaction but from the weakness he’d sensed.

He hates weakness.

His office was something he was used to, like a second home to him, but it was also a prison.

There was nothing personal here, no photographs or memories because there was nothing valuable in his life to get priority.

A reminder of how cold his world was and how hard he worked to keep the outside at bay in order to maintain the grip he had on his life.

His name was whispered in fear, holding no challenges against him.

But behind the untouchable man was a past—orphaned at six, he'd been left with no one.

The memories still visible even though he tried his best to forget them—being left alone in the streets, the behavior of his foster parents who saw him as nothing but a paycheck and people betraying him.

Each wound had hardened him.

Turned his heart into stone.

Love was for the fools

He long since stopped believing in it. It was a trap he'd never fall into and so is trust.

The world saw a monster and jungkook never denied it.

His employees moved quickly in his presence, their eyes averted, and his rivals could never win under his strategies.

Even his handpicked men kept their distance in respect and fear.

“He’s not human,” they’d murmur in private.

“One look and you’re done.”

jungkook knew the rumors and he relished in them.

Yet in his quiet moments when he would be alone in his room, something stirred in him.

It wasn’t regret—jungkook had no use for that—but it was an ache.

An emptiness no amount of wealth could fill

He'd never known a gentle touch or had someone in his life and sometimes he just felt.

Lonely…

He would crush the thought as soon as it arises, lighting a cigarette instead and the smoke would ground him in the present.

His phone buzzed, a message from the secretary about another marriage proposal.

The third time this week.

jungkook's lips curled into a sneer.

“Tell them to fuck off.” he rumbles.

He leans back against the chair, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling.

Marriage was a contract.

Nothing more.

He had no interest in binding himself to a stranger that was so obviously going after his wealth.

Outside the sky darkened with the threat of a storm, his eyes drifting to the window.

His reflection can be seen on the glass—a man alone, unbreakable.

But that same feeling flicker once again, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray before returning to his work.

The only thing he enjoyed in a life that he built on control

The world could keep its love and its warmth along with its lies.

jeon jungkook needed none of it.

Or so he told himself because the void in his chest said otherwise.

۶ৎ

Your tiny apartment was heavy with resentment, every creak of the worn out floor was the proof of the life you were stuck in.

A life you couldn’t escape

The single rusted window in your room barely let any light in as you would sit and watch the world go on outside, so different than your despair.

At 21 you were a petite girl always wearing oversized clothes in order to hide your body, shielding yourself.

To cover your broken, delicate self

Anxiety always clung to you and your small hands, worn from hours of work, trembled when no one was watching, showing exactly how exhausted you were.

Your eyes held hopes and dreams that you never got the chance to voice but they were often filled with longing and sorrow from your life.

Your apartment was barely a place for survival, every piece of furniture seemed like it was close to breaking down.

Beside your bed on the table was a small piece of half eaten bread.

The only food you could afford today.

Your father was a constant threat in your life and his eyes held nothing but cruelty.

Always the smell of cheap liquors and cigarette smoke clung to the place because of him.

“Get up, you lazy thing.” he grunts.

The smell of his breath making you want to gag.

“You’re nothing and you think you’re different, huh? you’re just like her.”

The words barely brought out any emotions from you because they were repeated so often that you were used to it.

But every time his words left scars no one could see.

Your mother was your only anchor, the person who grounding you in this unbearable life of yours with love.

Her one smile was enough to light up your day.

Her hands warm and gentle as they tucked you into bed and in her presence you knew you could be anything you wanted.

“You’re my little girl.” she'd whisper.

“Don’t let this place, your father or any man tell you otherwise.”

But now she was barely alive in a hospital bed, her heart only beating with the help of machines, now even if you held her frail hand in yours, you could still sense the small bit of warmth.

That she was still there, she didn’t leave you

She was your reason to keep going.

The only person who'd ever seen you, truly seen you.

And her absence in your life was breaking you with each passing day.

Your father’s cruelty had shaped you in ways you couldn’t escape.

As a child you'd hide in the closet, your small body curled as you heard his fists meet your mother's body, hearing her muffled cries.

You'd press your hands to your ears, hoping to change the reality or stop it as tears streamed down your face, your heart pounding.

“Stop it, please.” you'd whisper to no one.

The memories were so vivid that even after so long they often came in your dreams—the smell of blood, broken things from your father's rage.

Those moments had transferred a deep fear into you, making you think that all men were the same heartless as your father.

That’s why you avoided them all the time, your introvert nature helping you.

At school, when boys tried to talk to you, their voices high with interest, you'd duck your head, cheeks burning and mumble excuses to flee.

Even friendships with men felt like a risk, their presence reminding you of the monster at home and the pain your mom endured for years.

Your job at the bookstore was your only escape, somewhere you could lose yourself in.

The shop was a cozy place full of books and you'd spent hours organizing shelves, placing the novels in their places.

Your coworkers, a small group of women who respected your quiet nature, were your only friends who never tried to pry further.

They'd tease you sometimes.

“You’re always scurrying away with a book, y/n.”

You'd smile slightly, but inside you felt trapped, wanting to scream.

You yearned for a life that wasn’t like this, where you had to tiptoe over everything so you wouldn’t mistakenly trigger your father’s anger.

And the only person who you loved was so close to death.

Your part time job barely covered your mother's medical bills and your father rarely gave any money for her.

You often lived with hunger, the growl in your stomach was something you'd learned to ignore and your father never paid you any attention to notice that.

Most of his money went for drinking or gambling but now that he needs to pay for your mother's expenses, his anger was always high.

Your energy was barely there, yet your dreams refused to die.

You still hoped to build a life where no one could cage you.

Always hoping.

The dreams you had were written in your notebook that you kept hidden—each paragraph a wish you had for everything that was a far cry from the reality you had.

The silence was broken one evening as your father came in, his face flushed with the drinks he had, your pen stopping at the notebook as soon as you saw him.

“What’s this nonsense?” he slurred

He snatched your notebook and a gasp left your lips, instantly reaching for it.

“Please give it back, dad.”

Your voice trembled.

He laughed, amused and tore a piece of paper.

Tears welled in your eyes.

“You think you’re some writer?”

“You’re nothing but a burden.” he spat.

Tossing the notebook to the floor, but you refused to cry—not in front of him.

You waited until he stumbled to his room, then gathered the torn pages, fingers shaking as you pressed them to your chest.

“I’ll make it out,” you breathe.

“For mom. For me.”

Your fear of marriage has grown larger with each passing year.

You'd seen your mother's life fade under your father's control.

The idea of binding yourself to a man and having the same fate as your mother often kept you up at night.

You'd lie in your small bed and stare at the cracked ceiling above, your mind imagining a faceless husband of yours whose hands were as cruel as your father's.

“I’ll never marry.”

You'd murmur the words like a mantra.

“I’ll never let anyone own me.”

But with your mother’s illness and the tight grip your father had on your life, it felt like the future wasn’t going to be yours any longer.

And you wondered how long you could hold onto your dreams.

Even though there was almost no light in your life, you refused to break completely.

Every day was a battle.

But you carried on.

Driven by the love for your mother and the stubborn hope that one day.

You'd find a way.

To be free.

۶ৎ

It was late at afternoon and you were in a diner. You sat alone at a small table by the window, fingers trembling as you unwrapped a burger.

The burger was a rare treat that you purchased from the last coins you'd saved after skipping breakfast and lunch.

Your hunger too much to ignore.

You were about to take a bite when your gaze drifted outside, noticing a movement on the pavement.

A puppy, small and tiny stood trembling beside a trashcan, its fur full of dirt, you could see his ribs from how skinny he was.

You froze, the forgotten burger as empathy crashed over you.

You'd always loved animals.

Their loyalty a big difference compared to humans in your life, but your father's rules never allowed you to own one.

Without hesitation you pushed through the door and walked to the pavement before kneeling in front of the puppy, ignoring the way the rough ground scraped your knees.

“Hello, sweet boy.” you coo.

You tore the burger into small pieces and the puppy stares at you hesitantly, his doe eyes glistening, but as you hold a piece in front of him, his nose twitches.

Then, without a warning he lunged forward and devoured the food in a way that was almost feral, making you giggle.

And you realized exactly how long it has been since you laughed.

The curve of your lips almost seemed foreign to you now.

Its tiny tongue lapped at the oil on your finger once he was done eating a piece, making you grin further.

Your heart warming as you stroked the puppys fur, petting him

Tears almost streamed down your face because in that moment the puppy was more than a stray—he was a moment of joy for you that you could still feel despite the weight of your life.

Your hunger was overshadowed by the puppy's grateful nuzzle, his wet nose pressing against your wrist.

“You’re not alone, okay? not today.”

You whispered, your words carrying meaning.

Across the street jungkook sat inside his expensive car, that was custom made by himself, eyes fixed on his phone screen, a frown in his brows.

He was immersed in emails of his work, the world outside irrelevant to him like always, until a flash of something caught his attention.

He glanced up, his dark eyes narrowing as they landed on you kneeling on the dirty pavement.

You looked very fragile to him.

Your oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder revealing your skin and your face—was soft with lips parted in a tender smile, yet there was a sadness that he could see visibly.

jungkook's breath hitched, fingers tightening around his phone.

He watched, not blinking as you fed the puppy, your hands trembling not from the cold but from a hunger he could sense even from this distance.

Your movements were too slow like it was costing you to use up all your energy.

The sight of you giving away your meal—the only one of the day that he suspected—hit him.

“Foolish”

He mutters under his breath but the words felt like a lie.

There was something so human in your act, stirring a sensation in his chest that he hadn't felt in years.

A crack in the wall he'd built around his heart.

He saw the tears streaming down your cheeks and the way your lips trembled as you petted the puppy.

You were lonely.

Not the small loneliness of a moment but an isolation that he could relate to himself.

But he'd never admit it.

Your selflessness and your quiet strength—it unraveled him.

He didn’t understand why you matter, why this small glimpse of you seemed to shift something in him but he couldn’t look away.

His jaw clenches and he wanted to dismiss you to forget about this feeling under the pressure of his work.

But he can't, he can't just leave you in this state.

“Dammit.” he grunts.

He didn’t do this—didn’t care, didn’t let anyone in.

But you were different and that realization terrified him.

Before he could think otherwise, he was out of the car, the door slamming with a thud as he started walking towards the diner with intent.

He entered, and the room fell silent, his presence powerful enough to bring their attention to him.

The waiters froze mid step, the customers all quickly glancing away like they could sense the danger emitting from him.

His eyes scanned the room, landing on the counter where a waiter stood wide eyed and trembling.

"Get me the most expensive meal you have.”

jungkook ordered in his authoritative voice, leaving no space for argument.

“Everything—the best one you have. Now”

He slid a black credit card across the counter, the waiter fumbling to catch it.

“And give it to the girl outside.”

jungkook added, his gaze falling toward the window where you still knelt, unaware of what was happening.

The waiter nodded quickly.

“Y—yes sir, right away.”

jungkook didn’t wait any further, turning and walking back to his car.

He didn’t look back, didn’t dare to, but your image lingered—a small, sad girl who’d given him something he didn’t know he needed.

A glimpse of light in his endless dark life.

Inside the diner, you returned to your table, the puppy trailing behind, tail wagging.

You were about to leave, stomach still knotting with hunger and it was almost painful, but you'd manage.

That’s when the waiter approached.

His arms carried an entire feast that made your eyes widen.

Several grilled steaks, fries, salads and rice at the side, along with a tall glass of iced tea, were set before you.

The smell of such a rare meal made your head spin.

“I didn’t order this.” you said, shakily.

The waiter, still pale from jungkook's intensity, shook his head.

“Someone… someone paid for it.”

“For you, miss. They insisted”

Confusion filled you, but the scent of the food was too much to resist.

You ate slowly, each bite feeling like a luxury—you’ve never had such expensive, flavorful food in your life.

For the first time in weeks you felt sated, your hunger gone and the feeling was something you'd almost forgotten.

Tears welled again. not from sadness but from gratitude, though you had no one to thank.

You glanced outside, half expecting to see the mysterious person but the street was empty except for the puppy curled at the door.

You wrapped the leftovers in foil, you'd take them home for your father, a small gesture to please the man who made your life hell.

Because despite everything, you always treated him with respect, a kindness that maybe he didn’t deserve.

As you stepped outside, the puppy barked at you, rubbing himself on your leg and you smiled your heart feeling lighter.

“Stay safe, little one.”

You didn’t know who’d changed your day, didn’t know the man whose dark eyes had seen the hunger in your soul, but now you felt a small bit of happiness—and you’ll keep it tucked away.

Afraid it would break too soon.

۶ৎ

In jungkook's office papers lay in stacks on his desk as he tried focusing on them—until he couldn’t.

He leans back in his leather chair, calloused fingers gripping the armrest tightly, his veins visible.

He had too much pent up energy in him, a few strands of hair slipping out of his man bun, damp with sweat.

His tailored suit was open, revealing the white shirt beneath clinging to his muscled chest, showing the tension in his body.

His eyes were unfocused, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers for whatever chaos that was going through his mind.

You.

You were the chaos.

A girl he'd seen only for a few minutes, a fleeting figure, yet you'd gotten deep into his thoughts.

He could still see you—kneeling in the dirt, trembling hands offering food to a stray, eyes filled with sorrow.

He related too much with you and it was absurd.

Because someone so insignificant could distract him like that

He was jeon jungkook, who bent industries to his will but here he was undone for a stranger.

His jaw clenched, reaching for a cigarette to distract himself and the lighter flicked as he lit the cigarette.

His lips pressed into an angry line.

He inhaled the smoke deeply before exhaling.

“She’s nothing. Nobody”

He stood abruptly, the chair almost falling and paced to the window.

He wanted to protect you, possess you and shield you from the world.

He didn’t understand it—this pull.

It wasn’t lust, though your soft curves and innocent eyes had brought out something primal in him.

It was something deeper.

“Why you?” he breathes.

His breath fogging the glass, a vulnerability in him that he hadn’t shown in years.

He slammed his fist against the window, rattling it, the pain in his knuckles helped with the distraction.

He wasn’t a man who spent too much time on feelings.

He often forgot about them under the weight of his deals and deadlines.

He was filled with frustration and need.

He never let emotions control his actions.

Yet here he was pacing like a caged animal, control slipping.

Someone knocked at the door before it creaked open, his secretary stepping inside nervously.

“Sir, these came in today.”

Her voice trembling as she placed the items on his desk.

jungkook's gaze flicked at the files before his head snapped towards her, his glare enough to make her flinch.

“I told you.”

His tone dangerously low.

“No more of these fucking proposals. Do I need to fire you to explain myself?”

The secretary's face paled, her hands fidgeting.

“I—I thought this was work related sir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t check—”

“Out.” he barks, cutting her off.

She scurried away, shutting the door behind her, leaving him alone with the file.

He stared at it.

His chest heaving, he should’ve just torn it and thrown it into the garbage, but something stopped him.

A nagging feeling.

With a scowl, he snatched it up, ripping it open with annoyance.

A small photograph slipped out falling to the desk and he froze.

It was you.

Your face stared up at him, your eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

The photo was a bit blurry, clearly taken without your knowledge but it was unmistakably you.

His fingers hover over it hesitantly, finally grabbing it, your face sating a deep hunger in him that he didn’t know was there.

He sank back into his chair and stared at the photo, his cigarette forgotten as his heart raced.

“You.” he rasped, very close to awe.

He didn’t understand why this one image out of thousands of proposals mattered.

But it did.

It was as if the universe had somehow planned to bring you back to him, make you both cross paths again.

The letter accompanying the photo was written in a shaky hand and jungkook could understand the false sincerity just by looking at it.

It was from a man claiming to be your father, offering you—his daughter—as a bride.

“perfect match” he thought for jungkook

The audacity of it made his lips curl as he puts the effort into reading the letter that he would barely look at.

In any other circumstances he would have barked orders to his secretary to fire whoever let it through.

Marriage was a trap.

A contract he'd spent years dodging.

But this time his hand stilled, not tearing the letter, the photo held delicately.

He slipped the photo into his breast pocket with care, the action almost intimate, like he was tucking away his secret.

The paper pressed against his chest like a heartbeat he'd forgotten he had.

His fingers lingered there over the fabric as if he was protecting something precious.

He didn’t throw away the letter and didn’t yell for his secretary.

Instead, he sat in silence.

“Who are you?”

He whispers to the empty room, a longing present there.

“What are you doing to me?”

He didn’t believe in fate, love or in anything above his usual power and control, but you—you were like a mystery he needed to solve.

He closes his eyes, your image there as soon as he does.

And for the first time in years jungkook felt something close to hope—a feeling he both craved and feared.

That could either ruin him or burn him altogether.

۶ৎ

The cramped living room was suffocating, the walls were yellow from years of neglect and the couch squeaked under the weight of jungkook.

His hand rested on his knees, one hand holding a cigarette as his intense eyes roamed around the room, noting every detail.

The cracked photo frame and other broken furnitures, along with the bruise on your father's knuckles are proof of his temper.

And the air itself in the room sensed jungkook's dangerous presence.

Your father sat opposite him on a chair, a nervous energy in him, his face slick with sweat.

His eyes darting between jungkook and the floor.

In jungkook's presence he was no longer capable of showing his wrath, he was only a trembling mouse in front of jungkook.

His usual confidence that he used to control the women in this house had reduced to a shaky man wanting to please.

“Mr. Jeon”

He began, voice cracking.

“It’s an honor truly, to have you here.”

“My daughter y/n—she’s a good girl, quiet, obedient, perfect for a man… like you.”

The words seemed rehearsed.

jungkook's jaw tightened, this man with his yellowed teeth and coward eyes dared to think of you like a servant, a thing to be used for favor.

The audacity sparked an anger in him that was burning hotter with every word that came out of his filthy mouth.

jungkook's expression remained blank, remaining silent.

He enjoyed watching the pathetic man squirm under his gaze and how it was taking away his courage.

He leaned forward slightly, the couch squeaking again.

“Tell me about her.” he said, darkly.

The command was simple but to your father it held the need to satisfy, and he was already sweating his ass off from jungkook intensity.

How he looked like he could crack your father's skull open with just the use of one single hand.

“She’s… well, she’s always been a good daughter.” your father stammered.

“Works at a bookstore, mostly keeps to herself… never gets in trouble. M—Mr. Jeon.”

“Raised her to know her place.”

He forces a smile, revealing yellow teeth once again that soon disappeared under jungkook's glare.

“She’d make a good wife—someone who knows how to please.”

jungkook's eyes narrowed, the disgusting hitting him ever harder.

He hated this man—hated him from the moment he'd stepped inside this rotting house that smelled too much of cheap liquor.

The way your father talked about you was angering him too much and the need to hit him was increasing.

But he held back, clenching his fists, knuckles whitening.

He wonders how this man in front of him was even related to someone as soft as you.

He took a slow drag of his cigarette and tilted his head, studying your father.

“Is that so?” he hums.

Amusement and a rage in his voice that makes your father tremble further

“I’m not here for promises. I wanna see her.”

The demand caused your father's eyes to dart toward the hallway where you waited.

“y/n!” he barked, panic still present.

“Come in here now!”

The command made you freeze, heart thudding.

Your father had prepared you for this moment and you weren’t aware that all his words were a lie.

“One of my colleague is coming,” he’d said, leaving no space for further questions.

“Dress nicely, behave and don’t make me look bad, you hear me?”

The request caused goosebumps all over your skin—men, especially strangers in your home wasn’t something you were comfortable with, their presence always something you compared with your father.

But you couldn’t deny it, not when his temper could be on you or worse, affect your mother’s care.

So you'd nodded and spent the rest of the morning in dread, unaware of the true purpose of his visit.

You’d chosen a simple baby blue sundress with tiny white flower prints, and it wasn’t something you wore usually since it hugged your curves.

You often hid beneath oversized clothes.

But you didn’t want to piss your father off.

Your hair was down, hands trembling as you smoothed the dress and you had no idea of the man waiting in the living room.

The thought of facing him made your stomach knot.

Slowly you stepped into the doorway and the world seemed to stop because jungkook's presence alone dominated everything the room.

Power, wealth and danger—he was all in one.

But it was his eyes that stopped you—dark and intense, locking onto you in a way that made your knees weak, as if he could see the depths of your soul.

The sight of you—small, trembling—deepened his anger towards your father, his earlier words still echoing in his mind.

And the urge to protect you from your so called father was nearly overwhelming.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your dress, he was unlike anyone you'd ever seen.

He was so… different in a good and bad way.

His gaze on you didn’t waver.

And you felt stripped bare, like every tremble of your body, every fear in your eyes was laid open for him

“y/n, this is Mr. jeon.” your father says.

You forced yourself to move your trembling legs as you stepped into the room.

You managed a small awkward bow, hair falling forward to cover your face.

“H—hello, sir.” you stutter.

You kept your eyes on the floor, anything to avoid his intense stare, your cheeks flushing pink.

jungkook's gaze on you was still there, almost like a physical touch, eyes tracing all over you—the way the dress clung to your body, the tremble in your small hands.

You were even more fragile than he'd thought, almost like a doll and the sight of you so vulnerable lit something fierce in his chest.

His cigarette burned between his fingers, stinging him but he didn’t flinch, too captivated by you to notice the pain.

Your shyness and refusal to meet his eyes turned him possessive in a way he didn’t know was possible and he wanted to claim you this instant.

Take you far away from this stinking man and this place because you deserved better.

You were like a puzzle to him and he wanted to understand to know why there was such deep sadness and fear in you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.” he said.

His voice softer than he intended, a deep rumble.

The sound sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting before your mind could and you nodded, unable to form words.

Your father gestured to a chair and you went over before sitting down, hands still clasped tightly in your lap.

The room felt smaller with jungkook in it and there was too much heavy tension in the air.

The conversation followed between jungkook and your father, with jungkook barely responding because all his attention was on you.

“Always been a good girl.”

Your father forced a smile, eyes flicking to you.

“She keeps the house in order and is well behaved. She’ll make someone very happy one day.”

The words made your skin crawl, and you didn’t know why.

Unaware of what brought jungkook here.

jungkook's fingers tightened around his cigarette as he fought the urge to silence the man.

The repeated insistence on your “goodness” was further infuriating him, as if you were nothing but made to please others.

jungkook looked at you again.

“What do you do, y/n?” he asked, gently.

The question caught you off guard and you blinked, as you weren't used to someone being interested enough to ask such a question, especially about something you loved doing.

“I… I work at a bookstore.” you mumble.

Eyes still fixed on your hands

“It’s… nothing special.”

It felt like you were exposing yourself for judgement, but jungkook's expression didn’t change.

Instead, his eyes softened just a fraction.

“A bookstore,” he repeats.

“Do you like it?”

The question was simple as if he genuinely wanted to know you, not just the version your father was telling.

You nodded, throat tight.

“It’s quiet.”

“I like the books. They… they take me somewhere else.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them and the confession was a glimpse into the escape you wanted.

You regretted your words instantly, cheeks burning hotter.

jungkook's lips twitched, almost smiling but it was gone before you could be sure.

“Somewhere else.”

He says almost to himself.

He leans back and takes another drag of his cigarette as your father goes back to talking.

Your words, so innocent yet so revealing deepened jungkook's resolve. He saw the grip your father had around you and his disgust for the man grew into something more dangerous.

He didn’t know why he cared, but the need to free you, to burn this already broken house to the ground.

Was getting to him.

The encounter stretched on, each minute feeling like an eternity and the entire time you kept your eyes down, heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

jungkook's presence was too much and you wanted to flee from him.

But you were trapped.

When it was finally over, jungkook rose, his movements predatory.

He said nothing to your father, not even a goodbye.

His eyes flicks to you one last time, the look lingering like a promise or a threat, you weren’t sure.

He left without another word, footsteps fading.

You stood, legs still shaky and excused yourself before rushing back to your room.

Your heart raced and you were sweating.

You pressed your hands to your burning cheeks, trying to get back, but jungkook's presence stayed with you.

His dark eyes, deep voice, the way he’d looked at you—like you were something precious.

You didn’t understand the feeling in your chest, the mix of fear and fascination.

But you knew one thing.

This man was something else.

And you were already caught in it.

jungkook meanwhile, stepped into the cool air, the photo of you still burning a hole in his pocket.

He lit another cigarette, mind racing.

He'd come here to confirm a suspicion, but he was leaving with a need and a hunger he was going wild for.

He saw you, and he wasn’t sure he could let you go now.

Ever.

He'd see you again and when he did, that pathetic man, your father, would learn what it means to cross him.

۶ৎ

You sat in your bed, hunched over, knees drawn to your chest, your hands clutching the notebook—your only escape from reality.

You were scribbling there and hidden under your pillow there was your mother’s scarf that smelled so much like her nurturing smell, you clinged to it when you missed her so much and couldn’t see her.

Your only source of comfort

The door suddenly slammed open with a force and your father was there, his eyes filled with a menacing satisfaction that made your stomach churn.

“Get up,” he growls.

“You’re getting married. In a week. To jeon jungkook”

The words felt like a slap in your face and you gasped as the pen slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor.

A wave of nausea hitting you, you almost didn’t believe his words.

“What?” you breathe.

You couldn’t hear yourself over how hard your heart was pounding.

“No… no, I never agreed to this. You can't—”

Your voice breaks into a sob, leaving you with panic as your shaking hands grip the bedsheets.

Your father's lip curled into a sneer.

“It’s done.” he snapped.

He steps closer.

“You’ll marry him, or I’ll stop paying for your mother’s treatment.”

A mocking, bitter grin on his lips.

“You want her blood on your hands?”

You flinched, broken cries leaving you.

Your father knew exactly where to strike, and that was your weakness: your mother.

The only person you would do anything for, even give your life for.

Your father knew that too well and he was taking all advantage of it.

“Please dad.” you beg.

Tears streaming down your face as you shook your head repeatedly.

“Don’t do this. I’ll do anything—work more hours, sell my things, anything—but this.”

Your hands reached out and you hoped for the mercy that he'd never shown you.

“I can’t marry him. H—he’s cold and older and I don’t even know him.”

“I don’t want this life. I have dreams, I have—”

You pressed a hand to your chest as you were basically having a panic attack, sobbing and begging.

Your words a mix of pleas.

Your father’s face didn’t show a single bit of emotion, only anger present and his hand twitched as if he might strike you, like several times he had done before when he didn’t get things done his way.

“Dreams?” he spat.

He steps closer, his drunk breath hitting you.

“You think your pathetic dreams matter? you're nothing y/n, just a burden I've carried too long. jungkook’s money will fix everything and you’ll do as I say.”

His voice drops lower as he points a finger at you.

“You marry him, or your precious mother is gone.”

You were getting dizzy, the room spinning, your sobs grew louder in a way that left you gasping for air.

You couldn't breathe.

Your hands clawing at the blanket as if it could tether you in a world where this wasn’t happening.

“You can’t force me.” you cried, desperate.

“I won’t do it! I’ll run away.”

You started rocking back and forth as you gripped the scarf, clutching it to your chest like a lifeline—anything to keep you from losing your mind.

It was all you had left of her.

He laughed darkly, no pity, just amusement.

“Run? where to huh? you’ve got nothing, no one. You think you can survive without me? without my money keeping you and your mother alive?”

He gets closer to your face and you back away, whimpering.

“This is your place, y/n. You live off my money and now you'll belong to jungkook. Its final.”

He stood as he turned to leave, slamming the door shut behind him loudly.

You were alone again.

The silence was loud, only your broken cries could be heard, arms wrapping around your knees as you rocked once again.

The tears wouldn’t stop.

You hated your father and hated the life that had trapped you.

You especially hated jungkook, the man you barely knew and he was nothing but a monster who'd own you.

By forcefully marrying you.

You searched him up once he left and you'd seen several rumors—his ruthlessness, power and wealth.

All of it sums up into a man who'd cage you and break you just as your father had broken your mother.

Your greatest fear was gonna occur before you, all of your nightmares coming true.

But this time you couldn’t escape it.

A marriage to a man who'll turn your life worse than what it already was.

You thought of your mother and how she was barely hanging on with all the machines.

She adored you so much, always dreaming of a life for you that would be filled with happiness and love that she'd been denied.

The thought of her dying, of losing the only person who'd ever truly cared for you, made your chest hurt physically.

You couldn’t let her go, couldn’t bear the guilt of her death from a decision of yours.

So with a numbness, you made the choice that felt like betraying your own self.

You'd marry jungkook.

You'd sacrifice your dreams and freedom in order to keep her alive.

The thought was suffocating you and you pressed your nose into her scarf as if it would bring her back, help you out of this nightmare and fight your father for you.

Because she always did.

And now she wasn't here to do it anymore.

Your life will be destroyed right in front of your eyes.

And you could do nothing but watch.

The night stretched on like that as you lay there, your eyes ran out of tears, only leaving faint tear stains behind.

You didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep.

Each day from today will be a step closer for the new cage that awaited you.

jungkook's face haunted you now, a man you'll be forced to obey.

You didn’t know him but you knew enough to fear him and the coldness that seemed to emit from his very being.

The notebook lay open beside you, its pages filled with short stories you’ve written from your imaginations about heroines who fought and won.

Who found love in a world that didn’t hurt them.

But you weren’t a heroine in a story.

You were always a small, miserable girl trapped in a story.

With no happy ending.

────

taglist: @wintaemoonjen @minewlove @chaelvrx @nanisblogg @slutology00 @kelsyx33 @furioustrashlover @jjeonjjk7 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @asyr97 @ttanniett @bratzdaull @yunhoswrldddd @jeonzll @endlesslysassy @elmarimochi9513 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lisax-30 @moodytangerine @taetaecatboy @katwiththatrat @yikes-ukiyo @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @flutterguk @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @universallywizardkoala @kookxin @mageprincess7 @satisfied18 @existentialzaddy @strawberryberrygirl @tranquilreign @honeybearmin @melooooosusupp @thvflowr @jimineepaboya @granataepfelchen @cherricherryy @tatamicc @minghaosimp @kooko009 @clrwonuu @withmuchluv-tannie

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kxsagi · 4 months ago

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i’m so obsessed with your writing, it’s not even funny. Especially the way you write sae, it has me on a chokehold ughh😊🙏

“𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 ��𝐚𝐝, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫”

a/n: OH YOU LEMME SQUEEZE YOU IN A TIGHT HUG THROUGH THE SCREEN??? THANK YOUUU!!!

just for that, you’re getting this:

sae really thought that he was going to have a baby boy.

after all, he had a brother, and the rest of his family were mostly boys, too (a/n: not canon but wouldn’t be surprised if it was).

so when the OB/GYN hands over your newborn baby to him, his eyes almost pop out of his sockets and his pumping heart nearly breaks the sound barrier when he sees that he’s now the father of a girl. he has a daughter.

“awww were you hoping for a boy?” you joke, playfully teasing your husband.

“i was expecting a boy, but i’m not complaining.” you watch a small smile form onto his lips, a proud sign of an exciting new beginning.

a year has passed and your baby girl’s features are becoming more prominent.

her teal eyelids, very tired-like but still pretty, are framed by long bottom eyelashes, identical to her dad’s. everything else, from her skin to her hair, looks like you.

“sae-kun, she’s so pretty!” sae’s manager, girolan, exclaims, as he holds up your baby girl in his arms like that one scene from the lion king.

in response, sae only scoffs and side-eyes him. he can’t help it, he’s overprotective of his daughter and is getting uncomfortable by the second.

your baby girl just stares at girolan, before doing the same, exhaling a puff of air, turning her chubby face, and side-eyeing him.

girolan is baffled and immediately hands your daughter back to you. “did… did she just –”

you’re breaking out into laughter, cutting off the overthinking man who is now afraid to hold your daughter again.

your baby girl only scoffs, turns her head, and side-eyes him again, and you’re laughing harder than you have ever had in your entire life, your baby girl wondering why her mom is shaking like crazy.

“what?” sae asks you. “what’s so funny?”

“she’s doing the same thing you do!”

“huh?”

your baby girl notices the laughter and does the same thing to girolan for a third time.

“the scoff, head turn, and side-eye!” you laugh, holding your baby girl closely and nuzzling your nose with hers in a fit of giggles, contagiously spreading to her and now she’s doing the same.

“oh so she learned from sae…” girolan sighs. “so sassiness is a gene after all...”

sae gently pinches his daughter’s chubby cheeks. “picking up on my attitude already, princess? you really are my daughter, aren’t you?”

#sae itoshi #itoshi sae #sae #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi #itoshi brothers #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #like dad like daughter

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trulyumai · 7 months ago

Text

Leaving Behind Gold

—Pairing: Emperor Geta / Wife! Reader

—Synopsis: Fed up with Geta's priorities, you attempt to leave his side. Only, Geta isn't ready to let you go, and is ready to get vulnerable to get you to stay.

—Warnings: Slight angst, Geta getting nervous and breaking down.

A/N: I’m only posting geta content are y’all sick of it yet? im sorry in advanced there will be more

The moment you step through the palace halls with your packed satchel, it feels like the air around you is a trap—heavy, stifling, suffused with the weight of the decision you've made. Leaving Geta is the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but his obsession with Rome has left no room for you. Your heart clenches as you pass the door to his chambers, but you keep walking, steadying your breath.

He finds you almost immediately.

You hear his voice before you see him, a frantic bark cutting through the quiet corridors. “Where is she?” Servants scatter at the sound of his tone, their whispers falling to silence as his heavy steps echo closer.

Your pulse quickens, and instinct takes over. You veer left, ducking into the library, your sanctuary within the palace—a place where he seldom disturbs you. Slamming the door shut, you throw the latch into place, your chest heaving. The silence presses in around you, broken only by your ragged breaths.

Then comes the pounding.

“Open this door!”

His voice is a snarl, wild and guttural. The sound of his fists against the heavy wood is thunderous, shaking the frame.

“Wife, youre being foolish. Do we really want to cause a scene, hm?”

You press yourself against the far wall, heart racing as you clutch the satchel to your chest. “Go away Geta! You can’t stop me from leaving!”

The words only seem to inflame him further. His pounding grows erratic, each strike like a storm battering the door. “You don’t get to decide such a thing!” he roars. “You’re my wife. You’re mine!”

“Yours?” you spit back, your voice trembling. “I was yours once, but you’ve given every piece of yourself to Rome. There’s nothing left for me!”

There’s a pause, a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the door, and then his voice drops—a low, desperate rasp. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.”

You hear him press his forehead against the door, his voice cracking. And then it all comes out.

“I love you, do you hear me? I love you more than anything. More than Rome, more than the gods themselves. You’re the only thing keeping me sane, and if you leave... if you leave...”

The silence stretches, filled only by the sound of his labored breathing. Then his voice returns, hoarse and broken. “I can’t survive without you.”

Your resolve falters, your hand trembling as it rests on the satchel. “Then why do you make me feel like I’m second to everything else?”

He pounds the door again, his desperation boiling over. “Because I’m a fool! A stupid, blind fool who thought Rome would give me purpose—but it’s you. It’s always been you!”

His voice cracks, and you hear him sink to his knees outside the door, his fists slapping weakly against the wood. “Please,” he begs, his tone raw and unrecognizable. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll tear the empire apart if it means keeping you by my side. Just—just open the door. Let me see you.”

Your hand hovers over the latch, your mind warring with your heart. You hear him slump against the door, defeated. “You said you were mine,” he murmurs, barely audible now. “But you’re wrong. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

Tears streak your face as you press your forehead against the cool wood. “Then prove it, Geta. Prove that I matter more than Rome.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then his voice, soft but resolute: “I will.”

Your fingers tremble as they slide the latch back. The door creaks, revealing him.

Geta is on his knees, slumped forward, his shoulders shaking. His face is flushed, streaked with tears, his hair disheveled as though he’s been clawing at it in anguish. When his bloodshot eyes find yours, a sound escapes him—a choked, desperate sob that makes your chest tighten. His lips part as though to speak, but they wobble, and no words come.

He’s utterly wrecked.

And it breaks you.

Your satchel falls to the ground, forgotten, as you step toward him. His hands lift weakly, reaching for you, but it’s you who sinks down, wrapping your arms around his trembling form. He freezes for a moment, as though he doesn’t believe it’s real, but then his arms encircle you with crushing strength, pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, over and over, his breath hot against your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a fool.”

His words dissolve into quiet sobs as you clutch him tighter, burying your face in his neck. “I thought I’d lost you.” he murmurs, his voice still unsteady. “I can’t—I… You’re my everything. You and my child, dear wife, I swear it to you, here and now. Nothing will ever come before my family again. Not Rome, not anything. Just... don’t leave me.”

You pull back just enough to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his tear-streaked cheeks. His eyes meet yours, wide and shimmering with a vulnerability you’ve never seen before. “I don’t want promises, Geta,” you say softly. “I want you. Not Rome’s Geta. Not the emperor. Just... you.”

“You have me,” he says, his voice breaking as he presses his forehead against yours. “You’ve always had me.”

And in that moment, you believe him.

There’s a pause, before Geta’s voice breaks through the air.

“Do you… think I'll be a good father?” The emperor's gaze lingers on the back wall, not moving or lingering on your now watchful figure.

“I think,” with a soft kiss to his temple the man leans in, intently listening. “You’ll be the father you always wanted to be.”

Geta hummed, his ringed fingers carrasses your side. “I want to be kind. Nothing like my father. A drunken excuse of a man.” He spat.

Catching his face in the palms of your hands, you sighed and began to litter his face in little kisses. One on the cheek, two on each brow.

“Then you shall be, my husband.”

#fluff #x reader #fanfiction #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #geta x you #geta x reader #geta #emperor geta #angst

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teojira · 1 year ago

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I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

#can you tell im up his ass #Optimus is one of my top 5 characters ever i am married to him actually #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #gender neutral reader #teddy loves bots ☆#optimus prime #transformers knightverse #tf knightverse #Optimus x reader

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harryspet · 2 months ago

Text

the island program | r.cameron

[warnings] dark!gray!rafe cameron x addict!reader, billionaire!rafe, obsessive rafe, pogue!reader, sober!rafe, rafe has a private island, rafe and reader with established relationship, kidnapping, descriptions of s ubstance a buse & withdrawal, praise kink, dom/sub dynamic, mental health themes, stockholm syndrome, rafe controls everything, spanking, DUBCON

a/n: I really wanted to write Rafe taking you to his private island :)

divider credit: @/h-aewo

In which the cure for your cravings is a softer life, a secluded island, and Rafe’s personal brand of discipline.

word count: 5.9k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe hadn’t heard from you in three weeks. He completed his important meetings, signed million-dollar contracts, and immediately tried to get in contact with you. You were always on his mind even though he was never on yours. He’d texted you about fifty times. No reply.

He’d gotten you that expensive phone so you could call if you needed help but you’d never used it when it was an actual emergency. You didn’t call him when you needed to be bailed out. You didn’t call him when you needed a ride from the bar. So stubborn. You’d walk the eight miles back to your motel room in heels. He was starting to believe you were doing this to spite him.

You did call him, however, when you needed money for drugs. Rafe went in circles with you. You’d shun him when he didn’t give in. When he offered you shelter and let you get high within the safety of his expensive condo, you stole from him.

It wasn’t always like this. At one point, you actually wanted help. That’s how you and Rafe met. A narcotics anonymous meeting in a church basement that smelled like mildew and cigarettes. It took him two years to actually get clean and that was thanks to the meetings, his sponsors, and his determination to finally fulfill his father’s wishes for his future. He relapsed about three times but now he had been clean for an entire year.

He thrived now. Without the influence of mind-altering substances, he could actually make good business deals. He could make a real future for himself. He grew up lucky but he wouldn’t waste that privilege any longer. He had crawled out of the hole and hoped you would follow behind him.

Except you didn’t grow up as lucky as Rafe. He thought he was good for you. He recognized the sadness in your eyes. He knew what it felt like when the world was against you. Rafe often took what he wanted but he took his time with you. You needed a sponsor but sponsoring someone required a lot of trust. If you were any other girl, he would’ve devoured you whole. Your soft skin. Big, beautiful, tired eyes. Plump and raspberry-colored lips. Long curls that defied gravity, never tamed by a hair tie. Your uniform usually consisted of a pair of jean shorts and a worn hoodie that swallowed your frame.

The first time he actually talked to you was outside of the Marlin Mart, after filling up his truck with gas. He wandered into the store for soda and a pack of gum but walked into a chaotic scene. The gas station owner had you by your wrist, shouting curses at you, while you tried to pull away from him, “Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe intervened quickly, “Let her go, man!”

“She’s a thief!” You twisted in his grip, eyes wild, defiant, like a cornered animal ready to bite. “Let me see what's in your pockets!”

“I don’t have anything, old perv! Let me go!” You shouted back.

“Let her go,” Rafe said again, placing a strong hand on the man’s chest, commanding, pushing him back, “Calm down, I’m paying for her.”

The man argued, of course, but Rafe talked him off the ledge. When Rafe turned back to you, he gave you a warning look. C’mon, I’m helping you not get arrested, he wanted to say. You gave in a moment later. You emptied your pockets. A bag of skittles, potato chips, and a can of Modelo. Rafe took in a breath, taking the items in his hands, and walked over to the gas station counter.

You spoke to him the first time when Rafe found you outside, leaning against a tall ice box, “You didn’t have to do that.”

Rafe gave you your items, wondering you were hungry and this was your sad excuse for a meal, “I’m Rafe, I’ve seen you at a few meetings.”

You didn’t give away whether you really recognized him or not. It didn’t matter, Rafe had already memorized the details of your face. You could brush him off but he’d find a way to talk to you again. He wanted to know you.

“Hmm,” Was all you said.

“If you want a real meal, I could take you to the Wreck. We could talk about the program, and you know, recovery.”

“I don’t put out for gas station food and burgers,” When you rolled your eyes, sticking your hands in your jacket pockets, Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’m not – not trying to be shady. It’s just been awhile since I’ve met someone under the age of thirty who’s in recovery. Just trying to be nice. It’s on me, you don’t have to give me anything in return.”

You used to look at Rafe like he was an alien. Like no one from his side of the island had ever spoken a kind word to you. You didn’t trust him. Rafe wasn’t sure if you knew how to trust anyone. Later, the two of you talked over bowls of hot gumbo. Well, Rafe did most of the talking. He talked about how hard it’s been maintaining his sobriety, how much he’s grateful for the sponsor that practically saved his life, and how much more control he feels over his life.

Rafe always like control. It just took him so long to realize how much chaos all of the alcohol and blow were bringing to his life. He saw something spark in your eyes, a glimmer of something real, but it went away quickly.

At the end of the lunch, you leaned across the table, a wicked smile on your lips, “I bet you know where the Kooks like to party. I’ve never tried any expensive shit. Maybe we could get fucked up tonight.”

You hadn’t been listening. Not really. But he understood why. He would help you get to the other side of your problems. You were too beautiful to leave to your own demons. Rafe could save you.

He should’ve known that you’d disable your location services. It slowed him down but Rafe had prepared for this. He had informats. Other druggies that would keep eyes on you and snitch on the dealers who sold to you. Sheriff deputies that gave him a call whenever you got booked into the county jail.

He tracked you down to a motel, someone had seen you enter a room with some lowlife guy last night. They were lucky to have disappeared before Rafe arrived. Rafe couldn’t even count on two hands how many sleazy guys had to injure to the point of hospilization because he found them on top of you while you were out of it or because they had sold you something.

Rafe knew you were starting to hate him. He could take the hate. As long as you were alive.

Surprisingly, you weren’t passed out when he found you. You opened the door when he knocked. He could smell that you were newly showered, your hair freshly washed, but Rafe quickly spotted the remnants of last nights “fun” sitting on the nightstand. You were wrapped in a robe, a mascara wand in your hand, your makeup half done.

“Who paid for the room? I know it wasn’t you.”

An eye roll, of course, “I have more sugar daddies than you, Rafe.”

“I’m not–” He stopped himself from arguing, “What are you getting ready for?”

“None of your business,” You turned away, marching towards the bathroom, “You worry so much.”

Rafe followed, standing in the doorway. He watched the way your hands trembled as you tried to paint your eyelashes. The tremors were new. Things were getting bad. How were things getting worse when his leash had tightened so much?

“Y/N,” Rafe said, tired, exhausted, “I want to help you.”

“And I never asked for your fucking help,” You said although Rafe knew you didn’t mean it, “I’m going away for a while. Gonna get out of your hair.”

His fingers tightened around the wooden trim of the door frame, “With who?”

“Always with the questions,” Even now, you were beautiful. Even with bloodshot eyes and track marks on your skin, “You can’t stop me.”

“I can. I have before. I’ll tie you down to the bed and stop you from hurting yourself.”

“What if I told you I was going to get help?” You looked at him and Rafe knew you were lying. All you did was lie, “My friend knows about this new treatment program. I’ve done every program this entire state has to offer. She’s gonna drive me there.”

“And you need mascara for rehab?”

“Anyways, it’s in Florida. Gonna make it a little road trip. You should be happy for me. I’m finally listening to you.”

“If you go, you’ll probably get yourself killed in a few weeks.”

“Fuck you, Rafe.” The mascara hit the sink with a clatter. You turned, fists flying at his chest. He let you. When the hits got harder, more frantic, he caught your wrists, then your waist. You weighed less than the last time this happened. You always forgot to eat when you were using.

He sat you on the edge of the bed, pinning your thighs when you tried to kick. It was nothing. Rafe was all muscle, all control. You were all bones and smoke.

“Ugh,” you groaned, still struggling, “What do you want, huh? I can do this on my own.”

“You can’t,” Rafe said, feeling like a broken record, “Come home with me. I’ll take care of you.”

Rafe felt some of the tension in your body melt away, your shoulders sagged, and you let out a breath. You were considering it, he thought. Maybe you’d finally grown exhausted too. He loosened his grip and fixed his blue eyes on yours, “Hey, I’m serious,” He continued, “You need sleep and an actual meal. I promise there will be no hospitals, no doctors, just you and me.”

“Rafe,” You whispered weakly. He saw a glimmer of that innocent side he knew was inside of you. A little girl begging to be taken care of and loved, “I see the way you look at me…”

“What way do I look at you?” Rafe noticed it though he didn’t give it away in his eyes. Your legs parted slightly, your head tilted to the side as you looked him over. Your eyes became playful.

“Like you think I’m pretty …. even like this.”

“I do,” Rafe said, his voice deep and sure, “I think you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

“You can have me. You can have it.”

“Y/N-“

“I know you want to. I’d play nice. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

You smiled. Rafe’s heart was breaking in his chest.

“And you’d want something in return,” Rafe spoke knowingly. You parted your lips to argue but Rafe continued. He stood tall, towering over your figure, “You think I couldn’t have already taken that from you if that’s all I wanted? It wouldn’t be hard even if you didn’t play nice. You’re weak. You’re fucked up every time I see you. Sad thing is, you’d probably let me do it over and over again if that meant you could score.”

His voice hardened. The words landed like punches. And still, you didn’t look away.

“Stop,” That was all you managed.

“That’s not all I want, Y/N. I want all of you. I want you safe. Clean. Sober. I want you to fucking listen to me not because you’re looking for your next fix. I want you to listen because I’m the one who gives a shit. Who’s going to give you everything you need. Guidance. Structure. Love. All of it.”

You shook your head. You probably stopped listening in the middle of his rambling, “I don’t deserve that.”

“I’ll tell you what you deserve,” Rafe let out a breath. His rough hands nervously roamed over his shirt, buzzed hair, “Get your shit together. You’re not going to fucking Florida. If you don’t want me to have your friend arrested for possession then you’ll pack your shit and get in my truck.”

You stood, shoulders squared like you wanted to fight, but you were shaking again. You’d burned through whatever energy you have left. You were hollow. Empty. Rafe could see it.

“You want to own me,” you spat, but the words lacked conviction.

“I already have you, angel. That’s what I can’t get you to understand.”

That night, Rafe gave you another chance. Took you home. Let you put yourself together. Fed you until you were sick. It was routine. You relaxed, laughed a little, told him scraps of what you'd been through. You always smiled through the shame. You fell asleep against his chest during some movie neither of you were watching. He carried you upstairs. You probably hadn’t slept in three days.

The banging woke him up just after dawn. You were gone.

He moved downstairs, groggy and shirtless, drawstring pants hanging low on his hips. The banging was frantic. He opened the kitchen drawer and took out the syringe Barry gave him. He’d practiced. He was ready.

Rafe held the full syringe at his side as he approached the front door. There you were, wild and furious. “You locked me in? Open the door, Rafe! I’m serious, I can’t do this. Please,” Your eyes wandered down to his right hand, hanging by his side, “What’s that?”

Rafe slowly closed the distance between you. The rest had given you some of your strength back. Even as you scratched at his arms, Rafe kept you pinned to the door, “Rafe! Don’t! Please!” You screamed, tears in your eyes.

He shushed you as the needle finally pricked the side of your neck. Your eyes were wide and sad, “It’s okay, baby. I got you,” Your eyelids started to droop and you pushed at him weakly. Rafe caught you when your legs finally gave out, “It’s okay, just sleep. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You sat up too quickly. You were going to be sick. Your seatbelt kept you in place. You squeezed at the soft, italian-leather of your seat. You tried to get your bearings. Your lips parted. You thought you were talking but your voice came out in a moan.

You sat back, your body was weak, your head lolled to the side. A window. Clouds. A blue ocean. Your eyes fluttered until they were wide open, “Easy,” A familiar voice said.

“What did you do?” Your voice cracked. You tugged at your seat but your fine motor skills were practically useless. You were so foggy. Not in the way you usually felt when you were coming down or withdrawing. That needle. He’d knocked you out. On purpose. “What the fuck did you do?”

He was calm. Calmer than he’d ever been.

“It was the only way. You were hysterical yesterday. And you haven’t been in your right mind for a long time,” You shook your head, “I made a decision. And you’re gonna hate me for awhile. But this is gonna be good for you. For us, too.”

You’d really done it this time. This was your fault. Why did you have to show the most unhinged side of yourself to him?

You were so angry at him. If you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t because you were sitting on his private jet, going to a foreign place. It wasn’t even because you actually hated him. It was because you knew that Rafe wasn’t going to let your skin touch another heroin needle, let your lips taste another sip of alcohol, or let you smoke another joint to mellow your withdrawal symptoms.

Fuck, you thought. Fuck. Fuck.

Despite the warnings from his business partners about the futility of the tiny island of Isla Brisas, five hundred miles from the Ecuadorian coast, Rafe had proved them all wrong. There was no long-lost treasure, but his plan had not led to Cameron Development's bankruptcy as they had predicted. Not only had his men found gold, but there was a good chance that the parts of the island that had yet to be explored would yield similar findings.

His secret project. No one would ever disturb the two of you. No one would even be looking for you, he knew that. But he wanted you to feel like it was only the two of you in this world. No one on the island would consider helping you. The closest piece of civilization was thirty miles away on the Galapagos islands.

The villa was tucked between a grove of palm trees. The backyard stretched into the soft slope of a green hillside. The front of the house had a winding, stone path that led to an infinity pool before a five-minute walk shaded by tropical trees took you to a private beach. White sand sparkled underneath the sun, kissed by turquoise waves..

There were no fences. No barbed wire. No obvious guards. But inside there were rooms with locks that clicked shut when he pleased. Windows that let in the sun during the day but provided blackout privacy at night. Staff that were local. Silent. Loyal. Bought.

The first two weeks on the island happened in a blur. The bed was massive, the sheets always cool, even though your skin was often on fire. If you weren’t sleeping for hours at a time then you weren’t sleeping at all. You threw up everyday. Rafe was usually there, holding your hair, rubbing circles on your back. You begged him everyday to stop letting you suffer, to help you feel better.

“I am making you better,” He’d always say. The only drugs he gave you helped your sleep and nausea, they didn’t get you high, and a week into the nightmare, he starting giving you something for the depression and anxiety. The depression was probably the worst symptom.

He carried you from the bed, to the bathroom, and to the bathtub. He brushed your teeth, detangled your hair, and changed your clothes. You fought him in the ways that you could. It didn’t matter. Rafe did what he wanted. You kept trying to hate him.

One morning, you finally had the strength to pick yourself off the bed. You looked down at your hands and legs. Some of the bruising on your inner arms had started to fade, some had scarred. You could already tell there was more meat on your bones. Your stomach didn’t ache with hunger. You smoothed your hand down over your dress. The yellow night gown was light-weight, smooth and your fingers traced over the lacy floral designs that decorated it. It barely reached the middle of your thigh. And you were sure you’d never worn anything like this. You’d never worn anything this nice. Nothing so…delicate.

You wobbled towards the master bathroom. It was so big that even your steps seemed to echo. You gasped when you saw your appearance. Tentatively, you touched the skin of your face, unsure that it was really yours. You looked brighter, your eyes were no longer sunken in, the darkness under your eyes had smoothed out.

You looked away and wandered further into the bathroom. You took note of a modern soaking tub and a spacious shower with a rainfall shower head. You found the walk-in closet next, a heavy silence pressing against you. You were walking into someone else’s life, you were sure of that. It was neatly organized, large, and one side, from floor to ceiling, hung all of Rafe’s polished clothing.

On the other side was a stark contrast. Your fingers grazed over the soft fabric of a dress that was hanging at eye level. Silk, just like the one you were wearing, except this one would reach down past your knees. Soft hues of pink blush, pale golds, baby blues, and creamy whites filled the racks. More dresses. Skirts. Delicate. Frilly, even. The only pants you found were shorts and those were all silk as well. Pastel ribbons and lace.

Your fists squeezed at your side. Did he expect you to feel happy? This wasn’t yours. This was the wardrobe of some island princess. Who did he think you were? You closed your eyes tight. God, you just wanted to get high. This would all be easier if you didn’t have to feel. You could handle this. You could pretend to be what he wanted if he just let you get high.

You found Rafe on the balcony connected to the bedroom. Looking through the glass sliding door, you saw him leaning against the balcony’s railing, a phone pressed to his ear. The view behind him was dazzling. The sand was so white it was blinding. He wore board shorts and a cream-colored unbuttoned shirt. The conversation seemed tense.

This was your chance. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step forward or to run. You took a step back but just as you did, his head turned. He said something into the phone that you couldn’t hear. You turned quickly, too fast, you felt a headache coming on. You hurried to the bedroom door anyways, padding over a soft carpet, before you tried to yank at the large, mahogany doors. They didn’t budge. Of course.

You heard the glass doors slide open and the sound of crashing waves flooded your ears.

“You’re out of bed,” He said. You turned, pressing your back against the door, and mentally cursed. Rafe looked different too. He looked happy, hopeful, “Look at you… you look so good–”

“Where is this place?”

“Far, far away.”

You pressed a hand to you forehead, “God, I feel like shit.”

“I know,” Rafe spoke, eyes understanding, “It’s gonna be a process. But you - you look better than you have in so long.”

“I don’t–”

“You really do,” Rafe took a step forward. He was so handsome. Sometimes you forgot. He was tall, commanding, and he seemed to be coming into his own even more as his business became more successful. You hadn’t even seen the rest of the house but you never understood until now how successful he’d become. It made your stomach twist, “I love you like this.”

You shook your head defiantly, “At the detox clinic, they give you stuff to help with the cravings. Helps with the withdrawal. It’s too painful without. Just a small amount would help wean me off.”

“You’re not going to find a bottle of wine in this house. No pills. No stash under the sink. Best I can do is an ibuprofen.”

Your chest heaved and your eyes started to burn, “That’s not enough. You can’t just lock me up and expect me to raw dog my way through withdrawal.”

His expression didn’t change, even as your tears started to fall, “I hate to see you in pain. I’m here to take care of you but I need your cooperation. If you sit down on the bed, I’ll give you some pain medication.”

“I don’t want your fucking medicine!” Rafe’s jaw clenched, “Take me home!”

In a matter of seconds, he had you by your wrists, and was hauling you over to the bed, “You make this easier for yourself by listening. I’m done playing by your rules. I’m in control now. Do you hear me?” Rafe growled, pinning your arms above your head. His knees parted your legs and he pressed his weight onto you, “You are going to be obedient.”

“You can’t do this,” You whined, struggling beneath him, “You can’t fucking do this!”

“I can!” His deep voice rumbled across your skin, and for the first time, you were actually scared of him, “I’ve decided I’m not going to let you kill yourself. I’ve decided you’re going to live and this is the life I’m giving you. You’re going to do what I say, when I say it. You’re going to eat three meals a day, exercise, take your fucking vitamins, breathe fresh air, and you’re going to act like you’re happy until it starts to feel real.”

“Fine, okay – just let go – you’re hurting me–”

He scoffed. “Hurting you? After what you’ve done to yourself? After what you’ve let happen to you? I’m the one hurting you?”

And then his mouth was on yours. Crushing. Possessive. Final.

It felt like love. Even though all his weight was on top of you and he hadn’t asked for your permission. It felt like love because of how gentle and hot his kisses were against your lips, against your neck, and against your jaw. He squeezed you tightly but not to bruise. Not because he was getting off on your pain.

It was a warm embrace. You tried to run from it. It was so overwhelming that he fit against you like a matching puzzle piece. Strong hips rocked against yours and it made you dizzy. It was perfect. Just what you needed. Your headache was gone, all you could feel was him, hard and heavy against you.

He pushed the top of your nightgown to the side, took your nipples into his mouth, and sucked until your back was arching. “Please don’t,” You begged but the more you talked, the less you were able to hear yourself, “Rafe, I can’t.”

He sounded like an animal, a deep rumbling in this throat, vibrated against your skin. Like you’d denied him so long of his primal instincts. This was your fault.

“So fucking beautiful,” It was out of your control. He’d decided that you were ready. He got you there easily. Rocking against your hips, grinding into you, making your juices soak through your lacy yellow panties. You were so ready that when he finally pushed inside of you, he met no resistance at all, “All mine.”

Your head tilted back just as a strong hand wrapped around your throat. You screamed but he didn’t stop. He went faster, thrusted deeper, “Look at you,” He spoke in a low rasp, “You’re gonna come already, aren’t you?”

You gritted your teeth. It was painful. You tried to push the pleasure away. He noticed and became relentless. You screamed again, “Fucking feel it,” he commanded, “Fuck, you’re fucking perfect. Made for me. You can take it. Fucking take it.”

Clenching around him, your body betrayed your mind. Reisting had made it worse. You convulsed around him and he tightened his grip around your throat. You expected a break, some sort of relief, when Rafe finally pulled out of you. Your muscles were still twitching, squeezing, your walls ached. You felt empty.

He flipped your body easily. Your fingers clenched the sheets as he pulled your underwear down to your ankles. A series of spanks against your bare ass made you yelp but you kept still. He pressed his weight down on you again, sliding into your welcoming hole from behind. At this angle, he could go even deeper. He kissed above your ear, “Good girl,” Your lips formed a permanent “o”, “Stay like that. My good girl.”

You came again. This time because of the voice in your ear. It put you in a daze. You didn't know if you wanted to cry or to beg him to stop, but the words didn’t come. Only the sound of his praise, "Good girl," "You're perfect", each word tightening its hold on you, sinking deeper inside. Finally he softly said an, “I love you so much”. You hadn’t ever felt anything like this. Consumed and cared for. Used and loved. It was everything, all at once.

Rafe didn’t sugar-coat his intentions. He was training you. You made the mistake of showing him that he could give you pleasure. That your mind melted when he was fucking you. He could make you chase after the orgasms. It was the only high he provided you.

You ate all three meals provided to you and he’d bury his face between your legs on top of the kitchen table. You went out to the pool and swam with him instead of throwing vases, he fucked you hard against a lounge chair. You went a whole week without asking him for drugs and he’d fingered you until you lost your voice. You wore a bow in your hair, a pink mini dress he picked out, and sat in his lap while he worked in his office and you came for the first time with his finger in your ass.

You’d replaced one addiction with another. You still thought about your old life almost every hour of every day but the pleasure took the edge off.

The first time you’d seen another person other than a cleaning lady was when Barry, Rafe’s business partner, came to visit. He warned you to be on your best behavior. You saw it as a chance to be on Rafe’s good side for a long time. Maybe that meant you would be able to get away with more. Maybe that meant he’d do that thing again where he tied you down to the bed, put a vibrator on your clit, and made you cum over and over.

They were out together, surveying whatever Rafe’s secret project was. He still kept all his business under wraps. All you knew was that there was gold involved. And you’d only heard that when you were eavesdropping on one of his calls.

When they returned at dinnertime, you had dinner and a dessert ready. Grilled mahi-mahi and sweet potatoes for the entree and chocolate cake for dessert. You started early, knowing you might burn your first attempt. Luckily, you perfected the recipe on the second attempt.

You chose a floral, white dress, one that was low-cut and showed off your ever developing breasts. You were slightly insecure about them but Rafe complimented your blossoming figure consisting.

Rafe eyed you cautiously but Barry was more than impressed. You hugged Barry to greet him and you felt the man’s hands linger on your waist for a moment too long.

You made conversation easily. Your tone was light, almost fake, but this was how Rafe wanted you. You smiled until it felt real. Barry thought all of his jokes were funny. You laughed politely.

You served them both chocolate cake, leaning over each of them as you scooped a slice on to each of their plates. Rafe eyed you again, “After dessert, should we all get in the pool?” You asked, your eyes flirty and on Barry. He smiled, gold-tooth flashing.

“That sounds–”

Rafe interrupted him, “You want a beer, Barry?”

Your heart pounded. Your lips parted, “A beer?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Barry responded, unaware of the tension between you and Rafe.

“Angel, could you get two beers for me and Barry from the fridge in the pantry? I had some flown in the other day,” You hid your hands behind your back, to hide how bad they’d started shaking.

You hadn’t noticed any beers. Then again, you hadn’t looked in that fridge in awhile. What was he doing? Without another word, you turned on your heels and made your way to the pantry. To your surprise, and likely, your downfall, there was a pack of beers in the fridge.

Shaking you picked up two. Just two. You stared down at them, cold, condensation dripping down the glasses. Fuck. You hadn’t chosen this. Rafe chose this. It was just beer. It wasn’t a hard drug. He didn’t have the right to do this. He was testing you.

It took everything in you to walk back to the table and set them in front of each of the men, “Thanks, sweet thing.”

Still trembling, you sat back down in your seat. You were sweating. You watched both of them. Rafe’s strong hands twisted open his bottle. You sat eerily still as the men enjoyed their dessert and the alcohol. The conversation continued without you.

You tuned back in when you heard Rafe say, “Why don’t you head out there, Barry, and we’ll join you in a second.”

Barry’s eyes flicked between you and Rafe, suspicious, before he said, “Sure.”

When the coast was clear, Rafe asked, “What are you trying to do?”

“What?” You asked though your attention was fixed on his glass.

“You’re trying to get something,” Rafe said. Of course you were. All addicts do is use other people to get what they want.

You didn’t move your eyes from the glass.

“Hey, look at me,” And you did. It had become second nature. Do as your told, “You’re strong. You’ve been doing so good.”

“I’m not,” You disagreed.

Rafe tilted his head back, taking a sip, “You’re my good girl, right?”

“Yes,” You said quickly, “I’m trying. Maybe if I could just have a sip–”

“I know what you really want, Y/N, and you know I can’t give you that,” Rafe continued, voice steady, “You know what I can give you though.”

You nodded, “Okay,” You rubbed your hands nervously over your dress. Your palms were sweaty, “Can I have your cock, please? Can you make me cum?”

“Stand up, lift up your dress and bend over the table,” You did so quickly. You even made sure to pull down your panties. You were already wet. He didn’t need to warm you up. Sometimes you liked it better when he skipped the foreplay and went straight for what he wanted. You liked it. You had a purpose. You had love.

He didn’t move immediately. He watched you. He took his time, finished his beer.

“All this was because you wanted a reward, huh?”

“Yes, Rafe.”

His chair scraped against the marble floor as he stood. God, you were soaked. If he could just touch you –“You trying to manipulate me now? Use my friend to get what you want?”

“N-No–”

He spanked you so hard you screamed, one of your legs kicking up as you tried to fight through the pain, “Y-Yes, I-I’m sorry!”

“I know when you’re lying. I’ve always fucking known. You’re bad at it.”

“I’m sorry,” Another spank. You winced.

“You’re not gonna have a sip of beer. You’re not gonna cum either, okay?”

“Rafe, please, I’ll be–” Five hard spanks.

“Shut up, angel,” Five more spanks, “This is what this has all been about. Discipline. Not giving into temptation. You’re so close to getting it.”

Shame. You used to run from it. You were so ashamed of your life and your decisions that you wanted to feel nothing. With Rafe, you felt everything. Shame. Depression. Happiness. Pleasure. All of it. He didn’t let you run from it.

He kept going until you were sobbing and your thighs were glistening with the need that had dripped down from your aching center.

When he was done, he was out of breath. You were sorry. So sorry. He was right. You just needed more discipline, “Thank you,” You whispered, pulling your body from the table. Your body had grown stronger but you were still so much weaker than him. Part of you liked that, “Thank you, Rafe.”

You got down to you knees, “For what, angel?”

“For caring,” Your voice was so weak. You hugged his leg, rested your head against his knee, “Thank you for caring.”

He bent down, brushing a hand through your hair before trailing his fingers gently along your cheek. You leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering closed.

“I want you to go upstairs,” he murmured, “put on your swimsuit—the one-piece with the sunflowers. Then grab one of my belts and lay it on the bed and come back down.”

“I’m going to spank you again tonight,” he continued, almost reverent. “And I want you to thank me again. Just like this. Just as perfect as you are right now.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. Trembling legs brought you up the stairs. You’d never felt like this before. You wanted Rafe to be proud of you.

Reblogs w/ your thoughts are the best way to support me! Please message me with drabble ideas for this au if you have any :)

#dark fic #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x black!reader #black!reader #outer banks smut #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #barry outer banks #dark!rafe cameron

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casscainmainly · 11 months ago

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Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater

Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.

1. The Rooftop Thing

Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.

LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.

2. ACAB

From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.

3. Jason and Damian

Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.

4. Robin

This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.

5. Tom Taylor

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:

Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.

BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.

6. Parallels

Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.

Tell me this page doesn't slap:

Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.

Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.

Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!

#dick grayson #duke thomas #batman #let duke thomas be a hater 2024 #dick 100% knows that duke low-key hates him and he finds it funny #damian and tim worshipping him and jason having complicated feelings about dick that borders on obsession and cass being jealous #and duke is just. i hate this man #don't get me wrong duke and dick brotherisms >>>>>#it's just more fun where there's a little conflict #i may have made this because i got so upset about those batfamily relationship polls #PUT SOME RESPECT ON DUKE RELATIONSHIPS

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blueberrybirdsworld · 1 month ago

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Out of frame 2/4

Summary : Y/N and Lando Norris have been together for three years. Their relationship is real, steady, and full of quiet love but always behind the scenes. While fans know they’re a couple, Lando has never posted about her, avoids public displays of affection, and never mentions her in interviews. At first, Y/N understood. She believed it was about privacy, about protecting what they had. But over time, being constantly left out of frame has started to hurt.

Genre : angst, SMAU

Pairing : Lando Norris x reader

Faceclaim : @suanbeiii

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

@landonorris 📍Tokyo, Japan

Incredible night. Thank you to everyone who came out to support us. Big things coming 🫡

@_user1 he really posted all his friends but not his gf again... yikes

@_user2 is Y/N not in Japan with him? 😭

@_user3 nah this is getting embarrassing at this point. she literally always supports him and he can’t even tag her once??

@_user4 QUADRANT IN JAPAN LET’S GOOOO🔥

@_user5 the helmet is SICK omg 🔥

@_user6 weird how he never has a problem posting the boys 👀

@_user8 so hyped for this drop!! love seeing quadrant going global 💥

@_user10 where’s the queen?? y’all okay??

@_user11 y/n deserves a man who posts her like she posts him. period.

@your_username 📍Monaco

Girls can buy themself flowers too 💐

@_user1 wait. no japan trip for y/n this time?

@_user2 something’s off. they never miss a race weekend together 😶

@_user3 how is she real 😭😭 Lando you better be sending her flowers too!!

@_user4 the softest prettiest queen 🩷 Lando won the lottery and acts like he forgot

@_user5 Lando… be fr. how do you not post HER???

@_user6 she looks like a dream. if my gf looked like this I’d post her every 5 minutes lol

@_user7 you’re literally the prettiest person I’ve ever seen I can’t even hate you I’m obsessed 🥲

@_user8 i don’t care what’s going on but if he lets her go… we need to talk, Lando 😭

@_user9 okay but where do I sign up to be your girlfriend if Lando’s slacking??

@_user10 I hope he knows what he has. because the rest of us DO.

Texts messages

Lando You didn’t like the flowers I sent you?

Lando Seriously, Y/N? That post? What is that supposed to mean?

Y/N It means exactly what it says.

Lando So you ignore my apology and post something that makes it look like I did something wrong ?

Y/N You sent flowers. That’s not an apology, Lando. It’s a gesture. A pretty one, but not what I needed.

Lando You always want more. It’s never enough with you.

Y/N Because you don’t listen. I told you how I felt and you acted like I was being dramatic. I didn’t ask for a parade. Just for you to acknowledge me

Lando So you skip the race, don’t say a word for days, and make me look like an idiot online?

Y/N I said I had work.

Lando No. You said “don’t worry about it.” That’s code for “figure it out or I’m gone,” right?

Y/N You want to talk about code? Because not posting me, not bringing me up, not defending me when people speculate, THAT’s a message too.

Lando I thought keeping us private protected you

Y/N It doesn’t feel like protection, it makes me feel like a secret

Lando This again…

Y/N Yes. Again. Because you keep brushing it off like I’m asking you to tattoo my name on your forehead

Lando You want public affection. Fine. But maybe you could’ve talked to me instead of putting it on Instagram?

Y/N I tried to talk. You shut down. You always do.

Lando Because every time I mess up, you make me feel like I’m never enough

Y/N And every time I open up, you make me feel like I'm too much

Lando Right. Okay. Here we go.

Y/N Yeah. Here we go. Again. You don’t want to make the effort? That’s fine. Your loss.

Lando You know that’s not fair

Y/N Neither is loving someone who makes you feel invisible

Lando I have a race to focus on.

Y/N Enjoy it, Lando.

Lando Sure.

@F1LiveMoments 🎥Live interview moment of Lando at the Japan GP

Interviewer: “We didn’t see your girlfriend this weekend, is she not in Japan with you?” Lando Norris: laughs “Which girlfriend?”

@_user1 nah “which girlfriend” is CRAZY??? like are you trying to be single or stupid 😭

@_user2 he really said that on live TV… with a mic… and a camera… okay.

@_user3 and this is the man she’s been flying around the world to support in silence 💀

@_user4 he better deactivate, apologize and send 400 roses

@_user6 this girl has been nothing but quiet and supportive and he humiliates her like that? I’d be GONE.

@_user7 you can’t be “private” and also crack jokes like that… pick a struggle 😐

@_user8 and then men will say “why is she upset with me” like sir… you said WHICH GIRLFRIEND

@_user9 his media training just packed its bags and left the building

@_user10 @your_username deserves BETTER. we’re all saying it.

@_user12 this man’s idea of romance is “which girlfriend” I can’t breathe 😭😭😭

@your_username 📍Monaco

Sunday ritual 🧡

@_user1 she still supports him after that interview?? I’d be EMBARRASSED

@_user2 baby you didn’t see the clip, right?? pls say you didn’t

@_user3 I have to respect the loyalty but girl… the way he said “which girlfriend” like it was nothing 🤡

@_user4 wait… WHY is she still watching him like this?? I’m actually speechless

@_user5 this is such a sweet post but… after that live interview 😬

@_user6 girl did you see the interview from yesterday 💀

@your_username which interview?

@_user9 oh no oh no oh no 😭😭😭 she doesn’t KNOW

@_user10 this one comment just ended their relationship for real

@_user12 NAH IM SCARED. SOMEONE TAKE HER PHONE AWAY

@_user13 Lando better call her RIGHT NOW because this is about to go so bad

Texts messages :

Y/N “Which girlfriend?” Are you fucking serious right now?

Y/N Was that funny to you? Was humiliating me on live TV was what you needed?

Y/N You really went out there and said that like we’re nothing. Like I never existed.

Lando Y/N... Don’t do this.

Y/N Don’t do what, Lando? Get mad that my boyfriend made a joke like he doesn’t even know me?

Lando You didn’t want to come to Japan. You literally said you needed space What was I supposed to do?

Y/N NOT JOKE THAT YOU HAVE MULTIPLE GIRLFRIENDS ON LIVE TV MAYBE? Just a thought.

Lando It was sarcasm. The interviewer caught me off guard

Y/N No, what caught you off guard was the reality of being called out for once

Lando I didn’t mean it like that

Y/N You never do. That’s the problem.

Y/N Everything’s a joke or a deflection or a fucking PR-safe answer You don't even realize how much it hurt. You made me feel invisible

Lando You ghosted me for a week. You turned down my calls, ignored my flowers, and posted some cryptic caption like I never tried

Y/N Because sending flowers isn’t trying, Lando. It’s damage control

Y/N I was begging for real effort, for presence, for proof that I matter to you

Y/N And you know what you gave me? A joke about having multiple girlfriends ??

Lando It was a stupid moment. I panicked

Y/N God, do you even hear yourself?

Y/N You panicked and defaulted to disrespect. That says more than anything

Lando Okay well maybe if you were actually there we could have talked like normal people.

Y/N Don’t flip this on me.

Y/N I didn’t come because I was hurt, Lando. I needed space to breathe, not to be mocked globally

Y/N You know how hard it’s been? I kept telling myself you just needed time, that you were scared. Or shy. Or private

Y/N But maybe you were just comfortable keeping me secret, comfortable not choosing me when it’s inconvenient

Lando That’s not true.

Y/N Then prove it

Lando I’m trying to...

Y/N Trying would’ve been not letting those words leave your mouth.

Lando I messed up, okay? I didn’t think. I was tired and pissed...

Y/N No. You chose the words.

Y/N Enjoy the rest of Japan. Don’t worry about me.

Lando Y/N…

Y/N No. Fuck you, Norris.

Taglist (closed) : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @hi26loveie, @bunnisplayground, @nina481, @reallifemermaidprincess, @cars-and-frogs, @delululeclerc, @txmhxllqnd, @lydia-demarek, @destinyg237, @rhaenyrasversion, @sarascabiosa, @readz4u, @tvdtw4ever, @mynameisangeloflife, @teti-menchon0604, @suns3treading, @op814kitty, @prettyboyroseberg, @willowsnook, @ariesandwolves, @clarksgf, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @pinklemonade34, @fat-meh, @tiaajosephin, @landosbabe4, @easy4, @jule239, @mercrussell, @skylandori, @ryuucollapse, @nickie-amore, @fairyjinn, @seonaw, @mattslovelygf, @strawberrylov-er, @linnygirl09, @dilflover44, @bell1a, @f1fantasys, @sillyfreakfanparty, @janonymus0, @taetae-armyyyyy, @charlesgirl16, @angstynasty, @jules-bea2308, @afternoonarchive, @itsbieberxholland, @rexit-mo, @chlmtfilms, @vampgege, @mochimommy2002, @budgetcupid, @lemon-stvrrr, @bell1a, @taebearyoongs, @hazzasmunchkin, @sainz0fthetimes, @didaaa4, @madelyn2000, @il0vereadingstuff, @march32nd, @chlmtfilms, @literallysza, @cheapdocmartens, @wolfstarsimpxx, @pretzelcat4-blog, @larya810, @6-noir, @urfavftoomie, @ficr3ccs, @strawberrylov-er, @wosof1, @behindmygreyeyes, @justheretoreadthxxs, @pinklemonade34, @ninass-world, @landosbabe4, @leclercdream, @raynetargaryan2,

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foreverdolly · 11 months ago

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࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 5 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 6.6k

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“Move.”

He was like an impenetrable wall.

You attempted yet again to step around Feyd, your outstretched hand just barely brushing against the door before the man turned his body, blocking you from the exit. He stood with his arms crossed, using his much larger frame as a barricade. After the. . . events that transpired last night, the only thing that was on your mind was freedom. You needed breathing room, if only for a few minutes. Feyd had been your shadow for the last three days. He hadn’t left your side even for a second.

You wanted to trust him, even against your better judgment, so you tried to believe that it was only because he wanted to protect you. There was still that overly cautious voice nagging at you, telling you that he was looking for weaknesses to use against you later. His all-seeing eyes could be sizing you up, making note of how many bites it would take for him to swallow you up whole. The last thing you wanted was to be consumed by this place. . . Consumed by him.

The events that had transpired in your guest bedroom four days ago had your suspicions rising, and you needed to be certain that you were just paranoid before you could even begin thinking about your fast approaching wedding ceremony.

You had feared your impending fate for the entirety of your life. That had always been the one thing that frightened you most, and yet here you were, bruised and battered. It was crazy to believe that there were people on Geidi Prime that were worse than Feyd-Rautha. . . and yet here you were, depending on him for safety. You needed answers.

How had the guard even entered your room in the first place?

“I won’t tell you again. Move.” Your jaw ached, teeth grinding together as you tried to keep yourself from striking him across that cocky face of his.

The skin between his brow bones wrinkled ever-so-slightly as he stared down at you. It was almost as though he was scolding a small child, watching them flail and cry after their punishment had been dealt. Last you had checked, you’d done nothing wrong. Why were your basic rights being revoked after the attempted murder? Why did it feel like you were the one paying the price?

“Either you come with me and train or you stay in our room until I grab you. You have two choices. Pick one.” The pale Na-Baron almost seemed bored of your antics and you couldn’t blame him.

You’d been fighting him every chance you got ever since he had forced himself on you last night. A silent vow had been made right then and there: you were going to make his life a living hell, only stopping once you deemed he had done his proper penance.

“I like neither of those options. Watching you train has done nothing for me. I want to learn-”

“You don’t need to learn how to fight. Is it not the husband’s duty to protect his wife?” He tilted his head to the side, staring down at you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Why was he so obsessed with the idea of protecting you? The most he did while the two of you “trained” was block your onslaught of attacks. Gurney wasn’t afraid to hit you in the sparring ring, even if you ended up injured and butt-hurt. He was blunt and told you the ways that you could improve yourself, meanwhile Feyd had been treating you like you were made of porcelain ever since the assassination attempt. You hated it. With your vocal cords still fried from the strangulation, you were made all too aware of the fact that your fighting skills were subpar.

You’d tried goading Feyd into attacking you head on many times, but no matter what you said he still held his punches. The difference between his treatment of you and other’s was startling. Someone could look at him wrong and he was immediately jumping down their throats, ready to strike with lethal precision.

“One day you will have to leave me alone, if even for a few minutes. . . and what then? You can’t always be there-” You were trying desperately to explain, and yet he would hear none of it. He looked almost offended by what you were saying.

“I will always be here,” He was quick to interject, eyes suddenly wild. “I won’t let anything hurt you again.”

Realistically you knew that your heart shouldn’t be pounding the way that it was.

Still, there it was, hammering away in your chest. Every once in a while it was almost as though that dark veil that he had cast over himself was lifted, revealing someone entirely new to you. Someone, as much as you hated to admit it, that was entirely too likable. Loveable, even. His constant changes in personality were starting to give you whiplash. Was he someone completely different when he was around you? Or was he just trying on different faces to see which one you liked better?

You clenched your fists at your side, trying hard to calm your raging emotions. His actions last night were completely barbaric, and yet you couldn’t forget the softness of his lips. The warmth of his mouth over yours had plagued your dreams and made it impossible to sleep. It was insane of you to feel this conflicted about something. You should hate everything about this man, and yet here he was, promising to be your protector. More than that, he was promising to stick around, which was arguably more terrifying.

“I’m going then. Will you not be coming with me?” He unfolded his arms, reaching a hand out for you to take.

It hung there in the space between you two, his pale fingers twitching. For a second you contemplated taking it. Regretfully you realized that you had something that you needed to look into.

“I’ll stay here,” You faltered when you saw the hint of rejection in his eyes as he let his hand fall back to his side. “My bruises are tender today, so I’ll just take a bath.”

Why were you trying to make him feel better about your refusal? This was all too confusing.

“Alright then. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that he turned on the heel of his boot and walked through the door, careful to close it tightly behind him.

You breathed a sigh of relief, moving forward so that you could press your forehead against the cool metal. It felt good against your flushed skin.

“I won’t leave until I hear you slide the lock into place.” His deep voice was muffled behind the thick barrier between the two of you.

You closed your eyes tightly, sliding your hand against the door until you found the lock, clicking it soundly into place. It must have appeased him, as you heard his retreating footsteps just a second later.

Time ticked by as you waited to be free of your newfound guardian. The last thing you wanted was to be caught in the hallway sneaking around. Feyd would surely side with his uncle if you were to tell him all about your suspicions, so you’d rather just investigate on your own until you had solid evidence. You wanted to believe that you hadn’t been set up to die, and yet you had this intense gut feeling that this all went even deeper than that.

Why would they make good on the promised engagement if they just wanted to kill you? It’s not like you were any real threat, other than the fact that you had been blessed with your mother’s gifts. As you were now, you were basically useless, which was a very hard pill to swallow.

Slowly you unlocked the door, scared that the sound might alert someone. You had slipped the knife you had stolen during your first dinner on Giedi Prime into your belt, hiding it under the flowing black gauze of your blouse for good measure. Even if you were caught, you needed some way to protect yourself.

The cold metal bit into your skin as you slid the door open, reminding you that you were safe. You will never let anyone hurt you like that again.

This time you will be ready.

Two rights and then three lefts. You had memorized the way to go in order to get to the left wing for this very reason. The Baron’s defenses would be tight, but his office would be relatively empty around this time. It was just about lunch, and according to Feyd he would retire to his personal quarters. If you could distract the guards for long enough to slip in, riffle around for information, and then get out. . . you’d be home free.

You wiped your sweaty palms on your skirt as you walked through the hall, training your expression to one of stony indifference. Modeling it after Feyd’s, you briskly made your way, hoping that the guards would be confused enough to let you pass without so much as a second thought.

‘I belong here.’ You lied to ourself, trying to bolster your confidence.

A few men in uniform turned to look after you, but no one stopped you. The way to the baron’s office was completely new to you. Feyd had never taken you this deep into the left wing before- only to get to the grand-hall to show you where the ceremony would be held. It was as large and foreboding as all of the other rooms on the giant estate, but the onyx floors had a certain shine to them as though there were flecks of quartz sprinkled throughout. You didn’t want to admit it at the time, but it was a rather extravagant place to get married.

You’d nonchalantly asked if the Baron lived in the left wing seeing as the architecture was seemingly more grandiose. He couldn’t have known that you would try to make your way in this direction on your own because he had let it slip: the baron and his office were located very close to the grand-hall.

“What are you doing over here?” The man’s voice was deeper than Feyd’s, though he was half his size.

The guard at his side looked to be twice your age, and yet the expression in his eyes made you think that he wouldn’t think twice about ripping your head straight from your shoulders.

“The Na-Baron asked me to come and get you two.” It felt awkward using Feyd’s title, stuffy even.

The two blinked a few times in disbelief, looking you up and down as if you were an insignificant worm. It was almost like you could hear their thoughts. You were nothing but a pitiful Atreides, so what were you doing taking orders from someone as important as your soon-to-be husband? They doubted that he would ever confide in you for anything other than warming his bed.

“He told me that the two men standing in front of the Baron’s office were needed in the training room.” The sooner they were gone the better.

Their eyebrows furrowed in confusion, slowly looking behind them at the large door they were currently standing in front of. How would you know that this was his uncle’s office unless you were explicitly told?

“Did he mention why we are needed?” There was still a hint of distrust in the older man’s voice, but it was far overshadowed by fear.

Feyd was unpredictable. Unpredictability and psychosis made for a dangerous combination.

“Another guard confided in him yesterday. Said that the two of you said something disrespectful recently and that he wanted to personally have a word with the both of you. I don’t know anything more than that.” You wanted them so frightened that they would completely abandon all reason. They needed to be gone long enough to give you time to properly search the place.

You watched as their pale faces went a sick shade of pale purple. The two looked like the gossiping type, and if their expressions were anything to go off of then you must be right. They were quick to bow their heads in your direction before jogging off, muttering curses under their breath.

A second. Two seconds. Three. . .

You opened the door as slowly as you possibly could, praying that it wouldn’t make a noise. You waited to see if you could hear any movement, wondering whether or not the inside was being watched as well. Thankfully you heard nothing. The room wasn’t as massive as you had been expecting. It was just about as large as the first bedroom you had been placed in was, but somehow it looked even darker. It still had the strangely textured walls and beautiful floors, same as the grand-hall, but there was something unsettling about it. The only light coming in was through the large window that was located in the middle of the room, but the world outside was a slate gray, so even that was dim. You didn’t have time to look out the large window, no matter how curious you were about your new surroundings. There was something that you had to do. Making a decision on how you should go about this whole predicament was paramount, and you refused to do it after the wedding.

There was still time to try and contact your parents back home if you had suspicions of a possible murder plot.

The Baron’s desk was neat, not a speck of dust marring it’s matte black surface. You weren’t looking for anything in particular. . . just something that would put your mind at ease. Confirmation was needed, one way or another. Either Feyd’s uncle was innocent or guilty. Of what? You weren’t quite sure yet.

You riffled through the papers that sat on the middle of the table, careful to stack them up exactly where they once were. The information in them seemed useless to you. Financial documents- most of them discussing the retrieval of spice. Never once had you stepped foot on Arrakis, so you found them slightly boring at worst and mildly interesting at best. It was then that you started tugging at the very few drawers, knowing that you would be found at any second. There were no sounds emitting from the hallway, but that didn’t mean anything. Most of the people on this planet were freaks of nature it would seem. You suddenly began to doubt that there would be any evidence here of all places.

Asking the guard that attempted to kill you and his accomplices questions would have been the best route, but your fiance had acted rashly before you even had the chance to catch your breath. The time to give up on your investigation was near. Seconds had turned into minutes. Your heart was pounding up in your throat, making it hard to breathe as you opened the last drawer.

It turned out that it wasn’t a drawer at all but a small cabinet. You had to crouch down and squint your eyes in the dark to see inside. The contents would have been useless to you in most cases, but something caught your eye. . . and terrified you in ways that you couldn’t quite put into words.

It was a cabinet filled with marked-

“Did you see his face? It looked like he was surprised to see us.” The male’s voice had you standing up so fast that a muscle in your neck twitched, resulting in a dull pain shooting up the base of your head.

You were about to be caught. Any second now they would be back at the door, and where would you hide in the hallway? The billowy skirt that the ladies in waiting had brought to Feyd’s room this morning nearly sabotaged you as you tripped by the door. They were just around the corner, only a few steps away from his office now.

What would happen if you were caught? Would the wedding be called off? Would you be punished severely?

You closed the door as quietly as you could behind you, running in the opposite direction that the two begrudged guards were coming from. You only skidded to a stop when you saw that this hallway was also heavily guarded, their backs turned to you.

This was the worst case scenario. You were running in the opposite direction where you had come, which meant that you had absolutely no clue where you were going. There was no way that you would get out of this without some sort of formal permission, and two guards were already suspicious of you. Oh, and you couldn’t use the Voice if things started going south.

If you could sink right into the floor, right in this moment, you would.

The cabinet in the baron’s office was filled with keycards, each labeled with numbers that must correspond to each room. Only two were missing- two keycards that belonged to a room that had been organized on the wall of the right side of the cabinet. Left wing and right wing. The guest rooms were located in the right.

There was no way that was a coincidence. . . not when you were staying in the right wing the night that you were injured. You had been given a keycard at the very beginning of your stay. Not even your ladies-in-waiting had a way to get into your room by themselves. They had to knock on the door and wait for you to unlock it from the inside for them.

So if you had one keycard. . . then who had the other? Had someone broken into the Baron’s room just the same as you had, perhaps?

A sudden grip on your wrist had your mouth falling open, your lungs seizing as you sucked in a breath, your body's natural reaction being to scream. A hand was quick to press to your mouth, muffling whatever sound you could make. The hand belonged to someone tall, their body hard against your back as they ushered you into a small space. They pressed a button on the wall, and all you could do was watch in horror as the door slid closed behind the two of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was pitch black in whatever tight space he had dragged you into. A closet, you surmised. Still, you could hear that his teeth were clenched as he spoke to you, voice deep and low as he whispered.

Feyd. You hated the fact that you were so relieved that it was him. His presence here meant that you were safe. All you had to do was come up with some sort of lie as to why you were here. Walking alongside him wouldn’t dredge up any suspicions. No one would be the wiser if they saw the Na-Baron giving his soon-to-be bride a tour around the grounds.

His chest was pressed tight against yours, and suddenly you found it hard to take in a single breath. It felt as though he might press himself straight into your ribcage. . . and maybe you really were going crazy, but you wouldn’t mind it if he did break you. The smoky, spiced scent of him was clouding your judgment.

You were no longer yourself.

“It’s none of your business.” You whispered back, trying to make your tone just as ferocious as his was. It lacked bite though, and he seemed to catch the way that your voice faltered ever so slightly.

“Getting yourself killed the second that I look the other way. . .” He scoffed, and you wished so badly that you could make out his features in the dark. His body moved ever so slightly, as though he was leaning his head back in exasperation. “Do I need to bind your hands and ankles every time I leave the room? Are you that incapable of being without me even for a second?”

“I got lost.” You hissed, the lie sweet on your honeyed tongue. You were getting better at being despicable.

“Well, that’s too bad,” His voice softened, almost as though he was speaking to a child. “Getting lost in these halls isn’t hard to do.”

His grip on your wrists tightened to the point of pain, and for a second fear flashed behind your eyes. You hadn’t feared Feyd since you first arrived on Geidi Prime, and it was as though you were being brutally reminded of just who warmed your bed at night. He could kill you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Those strong fingers were currently immobilizing you now, leaving bruises on your wrist where he held you so ruthlessly.

“You’re a clever little mouse. What are you doing outside of my uncle’s door, hmm?” His hand freed one of your wrists, instead opting to grip your jaw so that he could move your head up.

Could. . . could he see you? The breath loosed from your lungs and all you could do was squint your eyes, begging them to adjust to the darkness. He was in his element here, lost to you in the shadows.

“If the guards caught you then they could deem you to be a spy. You would have been beheaded before I had time to get to you, and I’m sure that they wouldn’t have notified me before the killing took place. They know. . . how I am with you.” He chose his last words very carefully, faltering before he sounded the words out.

“And how are you? With me, I mean.” You regretted the words as soon as they passed your lips, and yet you were curious. Were you nothing more than a pet to him? A plaything for him to take off of the shelf whenever it suited his mood? Perhaps he saw you as nothing more than a conquest.

Your hand shook as you began digging into your side, searching your belt for the handle of the blade that you had been carrying during your explorations of this labyrinthian prison. Slowly you pulled it out, pressing it against his side.

You felt his muscles jump under his shirt as he realized you were now brandishing a weapon. His grip was still vicelike around one of your wrists, but he moved again, slowly looking down at his side to see exactly what it was that you were now threatening him with.

“I could snap your neck right now.”

“But you won’t.” That was the only thing that you were sure of. It was the only truth that you were clinging onto: Feyd Rautha would not harm you.

He moved your head to the side, the blade pressing hard into his side as he leaned forward, squeezing the breath straight from your lungs as his hard chest pressed pressed pressed into yours. Your breasts felt as though they might burst and your heart right along with it. He placed a kiss on the side of your neck, causing you to jerk in surprise.

The knife dug into his side and you paled in horror as you realized what you had done. He groaned, the noise echoing in your ear due to your very forced proximity. You needed space. You needed to breathe.

“No. I wouldn’t,” His breath was hot against your cheek as he slid his nose along the expanse of your neck. “Not ever.”

It felt as though something was being pulled taught in your heart. At any second it threatened to tear free. He had galvanized a strange sort of reaction from you- one that you were wholly unfamiliar with. This was all too new and all too much.

“Let go of me.” Your voice shook pathetically, and while it was a command. . . truly, you were begging him.

“You’ve finally learned to tolerate me. Or is this developing into something that you weren’t prepared for?” There was something in his voice. . . something that you were entirely confident that he was incapable of displaying: feeling. “Is that why you haven’t been able to look at me since yesterday?”

“I-I’m angry at you. Why do you think that I would be able to even stomach looking at you after that?”

He pulled away from your neck, the blade of the knife dislodging itself by a few centimeters with the added distance. He groaned again under his breath, his hand moving your face yet again so that he could get a good look at you. Your jaw ached as his fingers dug in ever so slightly.

“No, this isn’t the face of anger.” He sounded sure of that.

And it scared you that he was right. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried desperately to see him in the darkness. Still, all you saw was black.

“Then what is it? If you know so much then tell me.”

“I don’t know. . .” And for a second you thought that you might have won this round somehow. “No one has ever looked at me the way that you do.”

Your lips parted in shock as you stared up into the darkness. Did he always have to pull the rug right out from under you? Just when you were finally starting to get your bearings, he made you feel so unstable. If both of your hands were free then you would have tangled them in your hair. The arm that gripped your weapon slackened, the blade clattering to the floor beside you.

“Then I feel sorry for you.” Your eyes pricked with tears, so you closed the useless things. Still, after all of this, you refused to let him see you cry.

“I know.” He whispered, his voice so gentle that you could weep.

“And I fear you.”

“I know.” His forehead pressed against yours.

“I don’t want this.”

“I know.” He nuzzled against you, his grip on your wrists finally loosening. He must have known that you wouldn’t try to get away from him.

The fucked up thing was that it felt as though your feet had grown roots, tying you to the spot. All it would take was one good shove and you would be free of him and the closet. And yet. . .

And yet. . .

“I could have sworn I saw someone over here.” The voice outside in the hallway made you jump, your eyes shooting open.

You hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. Feyd’s earlier statement was coming back to haunt you. They would have you killed, uncaring as to whether or not you even made it into the bastard’s room. Whatever purpose you had for being in this area would be nefarious in everyone else’s mind. What were you even doing here in the first place? Your suspicions were unfounded, and more likely than not you would have found absolutely nothing to substantiate them. Would your parents be able to retrieve your body? Or would they just burn you without even sending a letter back home?

Feyd’s hand slid up the base of your neck, gripping at your hair. Did he not understand how much danger you were in? Maybe he didn’t care afterall. His knee slid between your legs, forcing them open.

“What are you doing?” You gripped at the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away from you, hoping that there was some place in this cramped space that you could hide. The voices were getting even closer now, searching for where they thought that you might be hiding. It was only a matter of time before they found you.

“Saving your life.” He captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his hand sliding out of your hair so that he could begin undoing the front of your blouse. You could hear the sheer fabric of your tunic ripping beneath his hands in his desperate attempt to get to you.

All you could do was grip onto him for dear life, unable to free yourself to even utter a cry. You were unsure as to how doing this would save you, but you were losing the ability to care much at all. If these were going to be your final moments then so be it.

So you gave in to the desire. You gave into the wanting and the needing. You fed the ache that had been plaguing you.

Your lips moved against his, parting so that you could fully taste him. His hands felt firm on your chest as he finally was able to tear you free of the cloth. The air was cold on your hot chest, and yet his hands were scalding against your skin. You tried to remind yourself that none of this was right, but it wasn’t working. His tongue lapped at the roof of your mouth and your own brushed up to meet his.

More. More. You needed more of him.

Your hands shook as they began pushing up at the fabric of his training gear. The breathable fabric stretched as you pressed your hand against his chest, finally allowing yourself to feel the hard planes of his muscles. You felt his stomach tighten as your fingers glided along his skin. You were unsure as to what you were searching for, but your body was acting on pure instinct. Your fingers reached up and up until they finally slid free of the fabric at his collar bones only to wrap around his throat.

He groaned into your mouth, his thumb brushing against your nipple. It hardened in response to the sudden attention it was getting. His knee pressed further against your thighs, spreading your legs out further for him until he was finally at the apex of your thighs. His hand flew from your breast to your hips, moving them for you against him. The friction caused your head to roll back against the wall behind you, disrupting the kiss as pleasure rocked through you. Never in your life had you ever felt anything quite like this.

He continued to rock you back against his thigh, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on your face. He was watching you intently, hell bent on doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to your body. You were unsure of his goal and yet you didn’t care. Something was building inside of you- a sound, a cry, a sob. . . you weren’t certain. It just felt so good. Too good.

He must have seen your lips part and was quick to press a kiss against them in an attempt to muffle the sound. Your knees felt weak beneath you, and if it wasn’t for his dutiful hands that gripped at your thighs then you were sure that you would have fallen ages ago.

You remembered how he had felt against you the other night and you wondered if that was a reaction that you had somehow unknowingly caused. You wanted to feel him again. You wanted to know whether or not he was enjoying himself, so you freed his neck and instead pressed your hand against the front of his pants. What had gotten into you? What were you even doing?

But he was hard against your hand and that was enough for you to begin rocking your hips against his knee without his prompting hands.

The feeling of your tiny palm cupping him through his pants was more than enough. His hips jerked forward, his eyes flying open at the realization that the object of his lifelong obsessions was willingly touching him like this. He was going to fuck you in this closet if the two of you weren’t found. Feyd didn’t want it to happen like this. . . but he was losing what little control he had left.

He loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you.

“I-”

The door flew open the second he opened his mouth, the bright light momentarily blinding him. His body moved on its own, Feyd’s hands moving from your hips up to your shoulders so that he could turn you, using his body to shield you from view. His chest moved up and down rapidly as he gulped down breaths, trying hard to calm himself and his pounding heart.

There was an unfamiliar man holding the door to the closet, eyes wide as he took in the site of the two of you. It took him a few seconds to really register what was going on in the small broom closet, and then another to fully grasp the fact that he had made a grave mistake.

“I-I-I had no clue it was you, sir.” The uniformed man stepped back, trying to show the Na-Baron respect.

You watched in real time as something pure and terrifying bled its way into Feyd’s expression. It had chills running up your spine.

“Turn your gaze away from her.” His voice was so low that you could barely understand what he was saying. “Now.”The other male quickly got the hint, turning his entire body to face the other direction. His back was ram-rod straight and you watched with a slack jaw as his knees began to quiver.

You wouldn’t want to turn your back on a rabid beast either.

“Just get me out of here. Please.” You spoke as quietly as you could, covering the scraps of material that used to be your blouse tight to your exposed chest.

Killing the random guard in plain sight would attract a small crowd. You watched as Feyd weighed his options, and you bet that the two blades that were still strapped to his back were calling out to him.

Silently Feyd pulled you out of the closet, holding you so tightly to his chest that your arm became uncomfortably pinned against you.

The two of you walked through the halls silently, his eyes burning holes into the faces of anyone that even glanced in your direction. The embarrassment of being so exposed in front of everyone had you crawling out of your own skin. No one had seen you naked before- aside from the women that had been tasked to take care of you over the years. All you could do to try and keep yourself from crying was stare down at the floor, watching the pale man’s black boots make their way soundlessly through the halls. Everything he did was so graceful it seemed.

The blood drained from your face as you were suddenly reminded of the fact that he had seen your chest completely exposed. He’d felt you, kissed you, and pleasured you nearly to the point of your undoing.

And you had let him. You put up no resistance at all.

Even worse, you wanted him to do all of those things to you. If you hadn’t been caught then how far would you have let things continue? In that moment you realized that you would have let him take you. You knew yourself well enough to know that you would have let him take your virginity in a broom closet.

“No one is looking at you,” He seemed to sense your sudden mortification somehow. “I promise. I’d kill them otherwise.” And you knew he was telling the truth. He was probably taking an internal tally of anyone that started for too long, only so that he could circle back for them later.

All you could do was nod your head and follow him down the hall, stopping only when he reached into his pocket and grabbed his own keycard, letting the two of you back into your room.

You kept your chest covered with your hands as the two of you broke away. You knew that it was pointless, but the moment was gone and your panic had returned tenfold.

“Now tell me,” He turned to face you and you watched as his lips turned down at the corners in slight disappointment when he noticed your sudden modesty. “What were you doing over there? Be honest.”

You couldn’t be honest and it pained you to know that. Feyd was still a Harkonnen. He was loyal to them, not an Atreides.

“Why did you kiss me?” You were answering a question with another question, but you needed to know. Urgently.

He licked his lips, as though he was being reminded of the moment. “No one would ask questions.”

Anger struck you hard in the gut. He had used the moment as a distraction? You felt like an idiot, already regretting the fact that you had allowed him to use your body like that.

“I didn’t mean to take it that far. It’s becoming harder and harder to control myself.” He must have noticed the hurt in your eyes. “I want you. Not because we are getting married. . . but because I want you.” He was being uncharacteristically emotional today.

You weren’t sure what that statement truly meant, but it seemed heavy- heavy enough that you felt the need to be more forthcoming with him.

“I was trying to make my way into the Baron’s office.” A half truth, then. It was easier than telling him everything. “But it was locked.”

Feyd’s eyes never left your face. They were much softer than they had been in the hallway, almost as though all of the hatred had melted away completely. He looked at you like he cared for you. . . and that was scary.

“I don’t know why it hurts so much. . . but it does.” His voice was flat, almost as though he was distracted while he continued to watch you. “I know you’re lying to me. My uncle’s office is only ever locked after dinner, which is for safety reasons.”

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

“Only my uncle has clearance to get into that room. The guards in the left wing only ever act on mine or the Baron’s orders. They’re all loyal to a fault. . . so tell me. Did you get into his office?”

You completely ignored his line of questioning, distracted by something he had said.

“So none of them would allow someone other than the Baron himself to enter that room?” Your voice shook with fear, your eyes widening as all the pieces started coming together.

“No,” He looked confused as your lips parted in a silent scream. “What? What is that face for?”

You felt more alone than you ever had in your entire life. He was out to kill you. . . There would be no escaping this place alive. Your parents had been set up and had given you away to murderers-

“The guard that tried to kill me. . .” You couldn’t keep your voice from shaking. “What wing did he belong to?”

Feyd’s muscles went rigid beneath his shirt, as though he was just now coming to some conclusions of his own. “The left.”

The breath was knocked from your lungs as the full weight of everything crashed into you.

You were stuck on an alien planet with no way home, Feyd Rautha was going to become your husband in just two days, you wanted Feyd so badly it hurt you. . .

And his uncle was plotting to kill you.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

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#savage bonds fic #savage bonds series #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic #feyd rautha smut #austin butler smut #paul atreides

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cameronsbabydoll · 4 months ago

Text

BABYDOLL’S VINTAGE OBSESSION — . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

rafe cameron x babydoll reader

Rafe wasn’t expecting much when he decided to snoop through your room—maybe some embarrassing childhood diaries, some love notes you wrote to yourself as a kid, or even a stash of girly perfume he could make fun of you for. He wasn’t proud of it, but you’d left him alone in here, and his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

At first, it was just regular stuff. A few notebooks, a drawer filled with cute stationery, a fuzzy pen that made him snort.

But then—he opened a cabinet.

And immediately, he regretted it.

He blinked. Then blinked again.

Because, what the fuck was this?

It wasn’t just some old posters or a couple of records. It was a shrine. A full-on display of framed photos, vintage memorabilia, and collectible items—like some twisted museum exhibit dedicated to a bunch of dead guys.

Rafe snapped a photo and sent it to the group chat. Almost immediately, Kelce responded.

Kelce: LMAOOO is that JFK???

Topper: Nah cause why is he framed like a family member

Rafe just stared.

Then, after a solid ten seconds of processing, he yanked out his phone and called Topper.

After a few rings, the call picked up.

“Yo,” Topper answered.

“Dude.” Rafe dragged a hand down his face. “I think my girl’s, like… in love with a bunch of dead guys.”

A pause.

“…What?”

“I’m in her room,” Rafe started, still staring at the shrine. “And I just found—dude, I just found, like, a whole-ass collection of old men.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t know!” Rafe took a step back, gesturing wildly at the cabinet. “She’s got JFK pins, fucking Sinatra records, framed pictures—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Topper snorted. “JFK? Like, the president?”

“Yes, the fucking president.”

“Oh god.”

Rafe huffed and flopped onto your bed, still gripping his phone. “This is, like, some freaky fangirl shit, dude. I feel like I’m competing with a dead guy.”

Topper howled with laughter. “Oh, I’m adding Kelce.”

The call clicked over to a three-way call.

“Yo,” Kelce’s voice came through. “What’s up?”

“Rafe’s girl is apparently in love with JFK and Frank Sinatra.”

There was a long pause.

Then—

“Who the fuck is Frank Sinatra?”

Rafe groaned. “See? See?! I don’t even know these dudes!”

Kelce snorted. “Okay, but, like, why JFK?”

“I don’t know! She’s got these little vintage pins and fucking love letters—”

“Wait.” Kelce wheezed. “Are they his love letters?”

“I hope the fuck not.”

“Oh my god,” Topper wheezed. “Dude, she’s obsessed.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” Rafe grabbed the Frank Sinatra Barbie, flipping the camera to show them.

“No fucking way.”

“What the actual fuck?!”

“Bro, what is that?”

“It’s a Frank Sinatra Barbie doll, dude.”

Kelce cackled. “You are so screwed.”

“You’re literally competing with a bunch of dead guys,” Topper teased.

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not bald,” Rafe muttered, glaring at the JFK pin.

“Oh, give it time.”

“Shut the fuck up, Top.”

Then—

The front door clicked open.

“Rafey, I’m home!” Your voice rang through the house.

“Shit—” Rafe scrambled, hanging up the call.

A second later, you walked in, a vintage paper shopping bag on your arm, your face bright with excitement—until you froze.

Your beloved shrine was completely exposed.

And Rafe—standing in front of it, Frank Sinatra Barbie in hand—looked like he had just uncovered a deep, dark secret.

“…Rafe,” you said slowly.

“Babydoll.” He raised a brow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What the fuck is this?”

Your eyes widened.

Then, with a gasp, you rushed forward.

“You opened the cabinet?”

“Oh, I opened the cabinet.” Rafe held up the Barbie like it was evidence in a crime scene. “And this was inside.”

Your face lit up. “Oh my god! I finally found one in mint condition! Isn’t it amazing?! Look, it even has the tiny microphone! And the little fedora—”

Rafe stared at you, bewildered. “So, you’re telling me you collect dead guys?”

“Well, no.” You grinned, proud of your find. “I collect icons.”

Rafe blinked. “This is next level.”

You shrugged, beaming at him. “You just don’t get it. It’s vintage, Rafe. It’s classic.”

He exhaled sharply, tossing the Barbie onto the bed. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He rolled his eyes, but you caught the amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Just, for the love of God, don’t get any ideas with Marilyn, okay?”

Your eyes twinkled mischievously. “No promises.”

Rafe groaned. “You’re impossible.”

Later that night…

Curled up on the couch, you were fully immersed in Roman Holiday for what had to be the hundredth time. Rafe, sprawled out next to you, was barely paying attention. Instead, he grabbed his phone and called Topper and Kelce back.

“You guys,” he muttered, half-whispering into the phone. “She just spent an hour explaining the lore.”

Kelce howled. “Really?”

Topper chuckled. “Did she convince you?”

“…I think I’m being indoctrinated.”

Kelce wheezed. “Bro, next thing you know, she’s gonna start dressing you like a 50s movie star.”

Rafe froze.

Then, in pure horror, he muttered,

“Holy fuck.”

And in the background—

“Rafey, come cuddle and watch the movie!”

Rafe sighed.

Then, much to Topper and Kelce’s delight, he grumbled—

“…Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, babydoll.”

#babydoll reader 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡#cameronsbabydoll ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#rafe cameron #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x yn #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x bunny!reader #rafe cameron x shy reader #rafe cameron x shy!reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic

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haoetoile · 4 months ago

Text

sweet revenge - jeon wonwoo

word count: 2,830

genre: smut, serial killer!au, non-idol!au and dark contents

pairing: stalker, serial killer!wonwoo x fem!reader

a/n: i really enjoy reading dark romances and darker fanfics, so i decided to take my first try onto this kind of writing!! this was kind of inspired by haunting adeline (more specifically, the mirror maze scene, ifykyk) and some other books, and i really hope this is not as shitty as it looks for me. btw, it wasn't revised, so lmk if there are any mistakes and i hope you guys enjoy it <3

contains: you messed with wonwoo's sweet revenge, now he has to make a plan to get rid of you as soon as possible. triggers: stalking, mentions to killing, wonwoo is a serial killer and slightly obsessed with reader. smut contains: voyeurism, big cock!wonwoo, names (doll, slut, pretty girl), fingering, oral (m. receiving), public sex,, creampie, and filthy language, slight dumbification if you squint (?). if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

it's been a while since wonwoo first laid his eyes on you; a pretty, smart and kind of naive college student. you two attended the same college, so you'd see him often around the hallways even though you two never actually talked

you were surely really pretty, but that was it. he might've just stared at you once or twice, but there was nothing more about it. well, at least not until you became a pain on his neck

one day, coming back from getting the groceries, you came across a gruesome scene in one of the dark alleys from your block. a tall man, wearing all black, covered by a cap, a mask and a hoodie, carried a corpse. you wanted to scream, but you got paralyzed instead, he remained unaffected by your presence, not considering the possibility of you reporting him - after all, it wasn't like you could see his face or anything that would make him recognizable

or maybe he thought so. until now, all of his murders had been considered just isolate cases, no one suspected a thing or who could've done this, but when he saw that murder, the one you had witnessed, being announced on tv, and theories surrounding it that linked that murder with the other ones, - after all, the victims all had a pattern: rich politicians who approved a specific project for planning a new area in changwon - his blood boiled. wonwoo just couldn't understand how could you be such a pesky little thing and ruin his plans on being unnoticed

well, he had to think about something. he had to do something. he couldn't just let a random college girl interrupt his sweet, sweet revenge, and neither the cops. so that's why he started stalking you

he wasn't counting on the fact he would start feeling something other than hatred bubbling inside him whenever he'd think about you, he never thought he'd start desiring you. but at the end of the day, it'd be just the best of both worlds for him - he'd have his way with a hot girl, kill her and get his revenge, and would also mislead the cops onto thinking about the changwon incident; the one that made him an orphan

once again, he stood in the shadows, covered by some big trees that were perfect to hide his strong, 6ft frame. your neighborhood wasn't crowded so it was even better, as no one would notice his present around as he looked up into your window. you looked so perfect, so pretty dolling yourself up to sleep, your pretty silk nightgown left little to imagination, and he loved every single detail of it

it was one of those nights, your parents weren't at home, and you were feeling yourself, so it wasn't long before he caught you on your bed, legs spread out as a small bullet vibrador teased your delicate folds. your brows were furrowed in pleasure, and when you pushed your pink lacy panties to the side, he couldn't help but start rubbing his hand in the front of his black jeans, wondering if you'd have this same expressions if it was him who was pushing those cute panties to the side, if if was his fingers that were teasing you

you started fucking yourself with the small object, letting out the sweetest moans wonwoo ever heard, and it wasn't long before he gave in to his desires once again, pulling out his length from its confine, his gaze still burning on your delicate figure

he watched as your rhythm gradually increase, your moans getting more frantic by each passing moment, as his thumb gently grazed along the slit of his cock, making his entire body jolt with pleasure. his hand tightened the grip on the shaft, as his mind wandered once again to how tight and wet your cunt would feel it he was the one fucking you, making sure to ruin you and leave you too dumb to even be able to run away from him once he's had his way with you

once you had your orgasm, wonwoo couldn't help but feel his balls getting tighter, soon enough blowing out his load all over his hand, his mind making up the decision he had to do something soon. very, very soon

[...]

finally halloween night, the perfect day for wonwoo to be able to execute his plan. your friends had invited you for a halloween party, and you were surely excited to go, even if it was in a more dangerous side of the city – to them, actually, it was even more appealing as it fitted the vibe perfectly

the party's location actually would be even more helpful for wonwoo's plans, as it'd be hosted at an abandoned mansion that was placed on an also abandoned neighborhood, surrounded by a forest. wonwoo wouldn't need much to make you disappear just like he had planned, that place was literally the best trap ever so he could get his sweet, sweet revenge on you for disturbing his plans

you felt a shiver down your spine as soon as your friend's car parked near the party's location, as if your body could sense some kind of danger, but you brushed it off, thinking it might've been just because of the mansion's atmosphere. but it wasn't

the sensation was only getting worse as you tried to enjoy the party as much as your friends were, the sense of unease and something more, as if someone was watching you, wouldn't go away. it was making you anxious, you felt like you needed to run away, like there was actually danger, but you kept quiet, you didn't wanted to ruin your friend's night at all and you also needed to go out for a bit

[...]

you fixed the black leotard and the bunny ears a last time before leaving the bathroom, ready to find your friends once again in the crowded room. just as you were passing by, you felt the same sense of unease again, of being watched, a shiver running along your spine, but no one seemed to be around. you thought you were going crazy

except for the fact you weren't. wonwoo followed you around the party all the time, taking in your appearance as you wore a ravishing playboy bunny costume, your ass barely covered by the short shorts you chose not to be half-naked in just that tight leotard, so tight wonwoo couldn't help but stare at the shape of your gorgeous tits and how they'd felt with his lips around it — it wasn't like he wouldn't get some fun with a pretty thing like you before making his plans work perfectly

you couldn't find your friends, so you grabbed a bit of a watermelon vodka drink that was being served and went all the way to the backyard, where a few people seemed to be smoking and others making out. a tall, handsome man dressed as joker approached you, well, it wasn't exactly a costume, as he only had a mask on and a suit, but you recognized the character anyway

"what's a pretty thing like you doing here, all alone?" his deep voice sent tingles all over your body "it's kind of dangerous to be here by yourself... haven't you heard the rumors that this mansion's abandoned, kitten?"

"i was just looking for my friends, but they're nowhere to be found, so i just came here for some fresh air" you answered, as oblivious as you were to his true intentions. wonwoo chuckled softly at your answer, loving the way his plan was going as smooth as it could, and he decided to take off his mask

the sight of his handsome appearance without the mask made you softly gasp, — fact that he pretended not to notice, but definitely did — he was extremely hot and totally your type, as if he came straight out one of your dreams

"mind if i keep you company, then?" he asked, and you shook your head while watched him light up a cigarette "want one?"

"no thanks, i don't smoke" you answered, watching him take off a long drag. for some reason, it was insanely hot to watch this

"so, what's your name, pretty girl?" god, the way the nickname rolled out of his tongue made something inside you flip completely

"____. and you are...?" you waited for his answer

"call me wonwoo, sweetheart"

[...]

you didn't knew how, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe something entirely his, but you were completely drawn to wonwoo. sure, he was tall, handsome and from the brief conversations you two had, you could already tell he was insanely intelligent, but you still weren't sure why something about him had you longing for me

you weren't sure either on how or why did you started dancing with him, or let him lead you to the very same woods you'd found eerie earlier that day so you two could made out. yet, it felt so right to have those lips pressed against yours, to have his tongue hitting all the right spots inside your mouth and leave you whimpering against his and your cunt throbbing for more

his lips moved all the way down to your neck, savoring the sweet taste of your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses there that made you gasp in such a cute way, that wonwoo thought he could get a boner with just that. you, on the other hand, could already feel moisture pooling down your core in a way that made your panties stick to your skin uncomfortably

"okay, doll. want to be a good girl for me, yeah?" he breathe out against your neck, and you whimpered at the contact of his hot breath against your already sensitive skin, nodding instantly. the sight of you being so submissive and eager to please him made wonwoo harden immediately "that's what i've thought... why don't you star by being a good girl and getting on your knees for me?"

you were more than happy to oblige it, dropping to your knees on the spot, not caring more about the eerie environment or the fact you two were out there in public. you saw him undo his belt, and a shiver ran down your spine as you imagined how big his cock must be — you just knew it was big

after you helped him undo his buttons and free himself from its confines, you saw his hardened cock stand tall and proud, ready for your attention. you gulped, not expecting it to be as big as it really was, but you leaned in eagerly anyway, ready to please wonwoo

you wrapped your lips against his tip, savoring the bittersweet taste on your lips, and he groaned at the sensation, hands flying instantly to your hair, dropping your bunny ears on the process. the contact of his hands with your hair made you bolder, as you bobbed your head more, relaxing your throat so you could accommodate more of his length inside your mouth

"fuck, what a good little mouth" he let out a deep moan, and you felt more moisture pool down your legs at the sound of his voice

you got bolder in your movements, bobbing your head all the way down, using your hands to pleasure him, and going all you could to make him feel as good as possible. wonwoo was loving you eager you were to please him, and it only made him hornier, thinking about how pathetic, and yet, still hot, you were like this

it wasn't long until he came inside your mouth, releasing his hot, thick seed right down your throat. he watched you gag and struggle a bit to swallow. he dressed up again, watching you look at him with doe eyes, ready to do whatever he wanted next, and the sight alone was enough to make him horny again

"doll, can you get up for me?" he watched as you eagerly got on your feet again, already waiting for his next command "such a good girl" he purred, getting closer and closer, making your back press against a tree

he shoved a hand inside your short shorts. wonwoo's skilled fingers were fast enough to pull your leotard and panties to the side, a groan escaping his mouth once he found you already wet and ready for him

"got this wet for me just from sucking cock, hm? such a nasty little girl" he tsked, smirking mockingly. you opened your legs a bit more, wanting more contact "look at you, already demanding for more..."

"wonwoo, please" you whimpered. his middle finger rubbed through your folds until they stopped at your sensitive hole, slipping just a bit to gather your juices, smearing it all over your nether lips teasingly

you mewled, and earned a dark chuckle from the tall man in front of you, who decided to do it again before finally stopping at your clit, drawing figures of eight slowly, just to get you worked up

"you're really a slut, huh? getting off on fucking in public like this, knowing anyone could pass by these woods and see you letting a barely unknown man finger your juicy cunt like this" he teased you, leaning in just to bite and suck a certain spot on your neck that made your toes curl

suddenly, two fingers entered your cunt, and you were not able to surpass the loud moan that escaped your lips. luckily, there was no one around to hear it, but the possibility of being seen made your cunt throb in a way that was definitely noticed by wonwoo

"what was that, doll? do you like being fucked in public like that?" he teased, pumping his fingers faster. you were already so lost in pleasure, that you didn't even heard him, too worked up on his fingers

wonwoo was determined in making you come undone, scissoring them, thrusting them upwards to find your g-spot, rubbing his thumb over your clit, all he could to get you off as soon as possible. your moans were getting more and more erratic by each passing second, your thighs were quivering, and your hips were moving on their own now. you were too close to snap

with a sudden thrust from his fingers, the coil on your stomach snapped, the feeling got unbearable, and you let go to the sensation. wonwoo let you ride down your orgasm until its very last wave before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth to taste your juices

"you taste like fucking candy" he groaned, getting closer so he could connect your lips to his again. you could taste your own essence inside his mouth, but you were still too horny to care about it

he shoved your shorts down and quickly ripped your leotard and panties to get them out of the way, and then took his own length out its confines again before finally plunging it into you without a warning

fuck, he made you feel so full. his cock was hitting all the right spots inside you, caressing your cervix in a way that was certainly too much but you couldn't help but want more. the sensation alone made you moan desperately

one of his hands grabbed your hips with a bruising strength, while the other roamed over your body, as if it was memorizing its shape. when they finally found one of your breasts, he squeezed it hard while thrusting harder and faster, determined on making you as cockdrunk as possible

god, you looked so stupid on his cock already that he could just kill you if he wanted to. but he didn't wanted to waste the opportunity to fuck this sweet, juicy cunt and to hear those delicious moans

his hips slammed against yours even faster, the wet, lewd sounds you two were producing were echoing through the deserted woods, along the sounds of your needy moan and whimpers and his deep moans and groans. his tip was constantly hitting your g-spot again in a bruising pace, making you see stars — wonwoo was definitely too much

"fuck, such a tight little cunt." he groaned "been waiting for too long to fuck you"

you felt like cumming already, but you tried to hold your own orgasm so you could wait for him as well

"such a good pussy for me" he moaned

you could feel his cock throb inside you and knew he wouldn't last longer, but so do you. so when the sensation became unbearable again, you just let it go, cumming all over his cock again. the way your cunt squeezed him made wonwoo cum as well, shooting his load inside you

he looked at your disheveled form in awe, and suddenly, an idea came into his own mind. maybe killing you wasn't the best he could do to plan his own revenge... instead, he could make you all his

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #dovenet #wonwoo x reader #tw: stalking #seventeen x reader #svt smut #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #svt fanfic #tw: serial killer

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drafttheory · 4 months ago

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Been thinking a lot about the first episode of Yellowjackets—specifically, how it frames Jackie and Shauna’s dynamic. People always paint Shauna as the obsessed one (which, yeah, she is), while Jackie is the oblivious, repressed, straight girl. But let’s be real: Jackie Taylor knows exactly what she’s doing.

That scene where Shauna is getting dressed, and Jackie is telling her what to wear? It reminded me of Mean Girls, but with a key difference. Regina George wouldn’t even let her disciples own clothes she didn’t approve of. But Shauna? She has options—Jackie just rejects them one by one until she finally hands her the outfit she picked.

Because Jackie loves Shauna. And not just the polished version she presents to the world—she loves all of her. The nerdy, book-reading, soccer-hating, flannel-wearing Shauna. The parts of her she tries to control aren’t the ones she wants to change, but the ones she wants to hide. Not out of embarrassment, but obsession. She wants that version of Shauna to belong to her.

She doesn’t want Randy fucking Walsh to get that part of her. Doesn’t want anyone to see Shauna as more than an extension of Jackie Taylor, because the second someone else sees Shauna for who she really is? Jackie loses her. And that terrifies her. It’s not about needing Shauna to be her sidekick. It’s about needing Shauna to be hers.

And let’s talk about Jackie’s sexuality for a second. Someone who spends years obsessing over how they want to lose their virginity, how special they want it to be, but never once considers their boyfriend of four years? Until they decide to just “get it over with,” and suddenly, now he’s an option? That’s not straight behavior. That’s not oblivious behavior either.

Jackie is waiting. For Shauna. For the flannel-wearing wordsmith in the driver’s seat to figure out how to say it first, so she can finally let herself say it back.

TL;DR: Jackie Taylor is just as obsessed with Shauna Shipman—if not more. And the way they handle those obsessions is exactly what rips them apart.

#this might've been said before tbh #i only joined this fandom in like late november after watching arcane #and realizing i had an obsession with ella purnell #yellowjackets #yellowjackets s3 #shauna yellowjackets #yellowjackets shauna #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #yj #yj season 3 #yj98 #jackieshauna #interpretation vault

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bimbosandbubbles · 2 years ago

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Truth or Dare?

Starring Bully Gojo and Geto

Synopsis- It’s freshmen year of college and for Gojo and Geto the year has been a little too boring—sure it’s only the first semester but c’mon it’s their first year being university students so why not make the year unforgettable? And for that reason they find themselves playing a dangerous game of truth or dare with their friends—a game that led them to YOU,their best form of oh so interesting entertainment.

Warning’s-noncon,dubcon,spitting,hair pulling,slapping,slight fingering,misogynistic behavior,filming noncon, double penetration,extreme humiliation,pussy eating,heavy degrading, creampie,breeding kink, multiple sexual scenes(not really sex happening),stalking,yandere,obsessive behaviors,thigh fucking, fatphobia,abuse of power(Gojo’s money and Geto’s connections),pussy slapping,emotional manipulation,blackmail,shoe licking,shoe fucking,extremely humiliating acts ,hairy pussy,stalking,rimming,loss of virginity,EXTREMELY SADISTIC BEHAVIOR!! TW THIS IS ALL FICTION! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ CHUBBY READER!

Wc-7.8k(Guys I cut off 6k more words to shorten the fic😭)

“Truth or dare?”

A white haired man turns to a man with long raven black hair,"What do you think Sugu'? Truth or dare?"

The male hums in thought,"I think truth,after all it's only the beginning of the game." Snow like hair bobs in acknowledgment,"Okay,we pick truth."

A wide smirk grows on the integrators face,"How many bitches have you fucked together?" Geto chuckles,"Do you always have to be so uncouth Naoya?" The said man shrugs,"That doesn't matter,just answer the fuckin question."

Geto decides to humor the man,for his and his best friends entertainment mostly. "Gojo how many would you say?" Gojo sighs—lazily leaning his lanky yet muscled frame against the back of a beat up couch. "Since we get here...uhhh probably like four. In high school probably like six."

"You've ever filmed any of em?" Naoya asks. Geto raises a neatly done brow up,"Why are you asking?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"I'm just askin there's no real reason behind it." Gojo looks at Geto from the side of his eye,"Sugu' it's not that big of a deal to answer. Plus it's not like we have filmed any of them."

"I guess." Mutters Geto. Gojo loudly claps his hands and paints on a goofy smile onto his face. "Anyways...Naoya truth or dare?" The man sits back in wonder before answering,"Dare."

"Okay! I dare you to call the one girl in your phone that you'd have to be paid like a million dollars to ever fuck anddddd you have to ask her to send a pic of herself." Naoya voices annoyedly,"How the hell do I get her to send a pic of herself?"

Geto smartly suggests,"Lie.Make something up." The man with highlighted hair smirks,"That shouldn't be hard. She's a dumb bitch anyways."

Naoya scrolls through his contacts list and spots a contact dubbed "Piggy." Geto and Gojo lean over his shoulders to see the view and both of them wince once seeing the name. "She's fat?" Gojo asks. Naoya snickers,"Oh fuck yeah! She's fucking big as hell! I could never stick my dick in her."

Gojo chuckles,"I couldn't fuck a fat girl,seems like too much work." Geto adds on,"Yeah they're not really my type either....there's just too much everywhere for me." Naoya agrees as he presses on the contact,"They're all usually fucking ugly anyways. So it doesn't really matter."

Noaya's fingers press on the call symbol while he lets out one final chuckle. He presses one finger to his lips,signaling the pair of friends to shut up. The man finally calls and the phone rings three times before it finally picks up.Naoya makes sure to put the phone on speaker. "Hello?" A sleepy voice calls out. "Hello (Reader)."

"Naoya what're you calling me so late for? I thought we finished everything for the project?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"Yeah well our introduction project isn't finished yet,I still need you to do something." Geto and Gojo don't miss the biting tone he speaks to you in. "Oh um well..I'm sorry I didn't think I missed anything."

"She sounds cute." Gojo whispers in the ravenettes ear. "Mmm." Geto hums in agreement. "Yeah you should be sorry. But luckily for you I'm nice so I'll allow you to still do it."

"Thank you? But anyways what do you need me to do?" Naoya smiles while looking back at the men," I need a picture of you." For a moment there's static silence—a silence that's riddled with confusion. "Umm why do you need a picture of me? Our project has nothing to do with ourselves."

"It's to prove our teamwork to the professor uhh how well we got along and shit like that." It's quiet until Naoya receives a dinging notification. "There you go,bye." The phone loudly hangs up while Naoya's jaw clenches in anger. "Fucking bitch hung up before I could."

"That doesn't matter show us the pic." Gojo says impatiently. "Fineee." The male opens up his messages and soon as he does he snickers. "I don't know why she tried to send me cute a one,she looks fucking stupid." Wrong. Naoya was so fucking wrong.

You don't look fucking stupid...you look so fucking cute. Your have such a pretty face—a face that needs to be came on. Those adorable fucking pudgy cheeks are just begging to be decorated with cum. And fuck those pretty lips you got—both Geto and Gojo just wanted to stick their dicks in your mouth.

They can't even see your body in the picture but they just know it's so fuckable. What do you have a cute pudge hanging down—a pouch of flesh keeping your pussy warm? Do you have warm doughy thighs that their fingers will just sink into the moment they touch the flesh? You just look so...soft. So wonderfully soft—plenty of soft sweet palpable skin just begging to be marked by them.

But despite Gojo's and Geto's shared thoughts—the lustful and wanton thoughts they wouldn't say that they want to fuck the ever living life out of you. They wouldn't disagree with Naoya saying you look fucking stupid. They wouldn't even admit they think you're attractive. Why? Because admitting a mere few minutes ago that you wouldn't fuck a fat girl and then switching up isn't the best look.

So what do the pair say when Naoya says that? Do they disagree and defend you? Do they admit the pure desire they have to want to be inside you? No they say," You're right she looks weird,let's just move onto the next round."

━━━━

"I didn't just leave her on the frats lawn! I at least gave her some cash to get herself home." Naoya proudly states.

"Wow,Noaya thank you so much for not being the worlds biggest douche." Geto states sarcastically.

"Whatever, don't act like you two aren't assholes yourselves. You may fool a bunch of bitches but I know how you really are." Geto peers at Gojo,the man beside him. They both give each other a knowing look—a shared thought surging through the kept gaze. A gaze that screamed,"We're aware of what dicks we can be." Huge dicks who have left girls high and dry after telling them they love them—spewing lies straight from hell just to get their cocks wet a few times.

But are they really dicks if no one really cares to point out they are? Are they really assholes when women flock towards them even though it's known they'll only use them like a human fleshlight? They could thank their good looks,popularity,and Gojo's plentiful wealth for never being confronted for just how cruel they could really be.

Geto smirks,"I guess you could say we are assholes but at least we appear to be nice ones." Gojo hums,"Mhm but anyways it's your turn to ask us."

Naoya sits there,clutching his face in devious thought. "If you guys pick dare,you won't pussy out with anything I say,right?"

"Nah as long as it's nothing too illegal." Gojo answers. "Good cause I got something in mind. Truth or Dare?" The two best friends stare at each other once more,silently agreeing on an answer,"Dare."

Naoya laughs,acting like he just had the best idea in the whole world. "You fuckers set yourself up. This is going to be sooo funny." Gojo rolls his eyes,"Yeah,yeah,just get to the damn dare."

"I dare you to fuck with little miss piggy for me." Naoya cruelly states. "That girl you just showed us?" Gojo asks." The question had a little too much enthusiasm,too much excitement for some girl he said looked weird. Hopefully it went unnoticed by Naoya though. "Yes that bitch."

"We'll do it but lemme ask why you wanna bother her?" Geto questions. The male shrugs,"Do I need a reason? She's annoying." Geto hums,"Alright I guess that's a good enough answer. But what's on the table for fucking with her?" The white haired male perks up at that,"Ooo yeah? How much can we bother her?"

"I don't really give a shit about what you do to her. Just ruin her,make her miserable. The only thing I want is some evidence that you're doing at least something."

Make her miserable,huh? Ruin her? Does that include every part of you? Because Geto and Gojo had something wonderful in mind...just for lil ole you.

"Oh yeah,we can definitely do that." They both remark.

━━━━

"Okay,I think this is the last book I need." You whisper to yourself. See,today is a good day! Why? Because this is the day you're almost done researching for a extremely tedious paper. That means for just a few days you wouldn't have to shove countless information down your throat anymore.

So naturally your chubby hands reaches to grab the book that's placed on the fourth shelf. Just as your finger grazed the spine of the book a tall figure grabs it from behind you. Quickly you turn and see a raven haired man,staring at the book with faux interest.

"Umm, I'm sorry I was gonna grab that...it's really important that I have it." You say politely. The male raises a thin brow,"Is it not important for me too? I might need it even more than you do." Immediately you feel yourself heat up from embarrassment," Oh no no! I didn't mean it like that—I just really really need that book. Im so sorry if I came off uncaring."

Cute. Geto's just starting the fun with you and he already wants to stuff his dick in your mouth. You don't even need to worry about some dumb book,you could just warm his cock all day. Besides the way your dressed right now it's like you want him to tear your clothes off and fuck you. Those denim shorts that are showing off those thick thighs and that damn thin white tank top you got on really shows a lot he wants to see. The pudge of your tummy just clings to the fabric so deliciously—it's tempting so tempting for the man to just reach out and grip the pudge but he resists the urge.

But still despite how cute he finds you,he still needs to make your little life unbearable. So he says,"Well I need this book more." With that he "kindly" smiles and walks off. He leaves you there,mouth agape and eyes wide. Did he really just—DID HE JUST TAKE THE BOOK?

Angrily you call out,"Hey! I need that book." The man continues walking,ignoring you completely. With a mission you charge after the male,keeping his speedy pace until you bump right into someone. Broken from the determined haze you were just in you look and see the person you slammed into.

It's odd,you swear no one was in front of you before and then suddenly someone just came in front of you. No matter how weird it really is though,apologizing and catching up with the book thief is more important.

"Omg I'm so sorry! Are you okay! I was just in a rush—" The very tall man you just bumped into places a long finger on your lips. The sheer boldness of the action instantly shutting you up. "I don't wanna hear it. Ya know,you should definitely be more careful. People are not as nice as me."

He leans down,shortening his noticeable height ,"But since I'm sooo nice all I'm gonna ask if you to beg on your knees for my forgiveness." The hell? Who does this guys think he is? The president? You weren't gonna beg for forgiveness just for bumping into someone?! Hell no!

" Look I'm sorry, but I'm not doing all that just for bumping into you! Don't you hear how fucking crazy you sound?" You snatch his finger away from your lips and cross your arms angrily. He chuckles,"Oh so you wanna act all tough? Fine,I didn't wanna threaten you this early,that was gonna be some fun for later but since you're a lil stubborn I guess the hard way is for you."

Your brows pinch together in frustration and confusion. Who is this guy? Acting like he's all high and mighty? Can he even threaten you when he doesn't know you? Yeah,right. You're sick of this already.

You attempt to move past the male,too sick and tired of precious time being taken away from you. But you're stopped by a veiny large hand that's securely wrapped your wrist. He yanks you to his chest,"Ya know,it's not very nice to walk away while someone's talking to you.I thought you were a polite girl." His warm breath travels all the way to the back of your neck. It's oddly...intimate and sexual for someone you just encountered.

"Be a good girl and beg or else I'll get you out of this university so fucking fast and then I'll tell someone in every single university in the radius you're a fucking cheat. I can go even farther than that if that doesn't scare you enough." He mutters. Chills run across your spine—it's scary,the threat,it holds so much weight but no way some guy you just bumped into has the power to do that,right?

"Y-You can't do that!" The exclamation is a unsteady one,you yourself not even believing that. For some reason this stranger just oozes so much effortless authority—so much power that's unexplainable. It's confusing but still it instills some type of fear in you. "Oh can't I?" His tone is cocky—assured fully in just what exactly he's capable of. Scary—it's scary how confident he's in ruining your educational career.

"Are you taking me a little serious now,hmm? Do you think you should take my good grace and get on your knees already?" It's no big deal,right? If you just get on your knees now,you'd probably never see the man again. This university is big and no way the man would make an attempt to find you—a complete stranger.

Would a little humiliation be so bad if you never see him again? "Are you? Or are you gonna just stand there like an idiot?" Nervously you gulp before facing the man and sinking down to your knees. As you level yourself at his feet you can't help but stare at the rich brown leather that his shoes are made of.

You look up at him and instantly Gojo's glad he chose to his dark sunglasses today. He could feel his pupil dilate as soon so you kneeled for him. Everything about you looked sooo good on your knees—those pretty lips parted slightly because of nerves—your thick thighs squishing together and fuck those gorgeous tits that are just peeking out of your tank top,just begging to be fondled with his big hands.

"Are you gonna start begging or do I gotta force your mouth to move too?" You shake your head no and gulp down a lot of pride and self respect. "Please uhhh—" you pause to search for the man's name. "Gojo. It's Gojo."

"Gojo,please forgive me. It was a mistake and I'm so so sorry." You think your apology is good enough but what you think isn't always right. The man scoffs as a big hand completely palms the whole crown of your head—pushing your body to bend straight down. The tip of your nose kisses the carpeted floor of the library.

" Ah,ah, You're supposed to lean all the way down like a good girl,yeah? Now do it again." Your clammy and stubby hands angrily and tearfully grip the fine hair of the carpet. This is just so...humiliating it hurts every ounce of self respect you have contained in your body.

"Gojo,please forgive me. I'm so sorry." He hums and places his large hand on your head,"I forgive you...for now." With that the man removes his hand and quickly announces his exit. "Thank you for the apology,don't be so clumsy next time."

You watch as his long limber legs make their way farther and farther away from you. Your nose still kisses the carpet—a reminder of the humiliation that was just acted on by the man casually strolling away. The humiliation being so damn demeaning you no longe care for retrieving your much needed book back.

But it would be okay,right? It would be okay cause you'll never see Gojo again. You haven't seen him before and you won't see him again.

You could just move on from this right? Is the thought you have as your eye stay trained on his brown leather shoes.

━━━━

Have you ever been more more wrong before? So irritatingly wrong?

Because both the mysterious man who unfortunately learned is Geto, and Gojo from the library have not left you alone since.

Everywhere you go there they are! Always calling you mean names,like slut or whore. Always taking away your stuff away from you. Always threatening you. And worse—always finding you.

And that is the exact reason why you're stuck between the two—pushed against a random wall in a hallway. "You wanna runaway from me and Geto,some more? Huh,(Reader)?"

You shake your head rapidly and squeak as Gojo's large hand reaches out and grips your tucked pudge that's hidden well within the high waisted material. "D-Don't grip me like that!" You squeak. "Like what? Like a slut? Cause you are a little slut." Gojo remarks.

"I'm not a slut!" Your words are met with chuckles,true genuine laughter for something that wasn't even a joke. "Mmm then why are you always with those lil dorks after hours? You prolly let them cum in you. You prolly let them spit in your pussy and mouth,don't you slut?"

You start to tear up and resist Gojo's grip but it only gets tighter. "Maybe you wouldn't see me hanging out with my friends if you guys weren't always stalking me! Just leave me alone! You don't even know me! I've never even done anything to you!"

"You think we're stalking you? You think we're genuinely interested in someone like you?" Geto chuckles. "Yeah,we know you're a little slow but to think that is on another level of delusion." Gojo adds. Liars,the both of them know that they're watching you. Keeping tabs on every single move you make,every person you talk to,every time you go out,anything—just so they know when to strike. They told themselves it's not cause they like what they do to—they don't like seeing you beg and plead,they don't like humiliating to the brink of tears—absolutely not. Liars.

"Oh and you've never done anything to us? Hmm,I can remember you fighting for that book pretty hard. I think you may have pushed me,right Gojo? You saw her push me?" Gojo hums,"Hmmm,yeah I swear I saw her. She was so mean to you. And not to mention she didn't even wanna apologize to me for rudely bumping into me."

"What the fuck??! I didn't even push him! I know for a fact I didn't! And last time I checked you just randomly popped up and bumped into me!" You make sure to face backwards and points towards Gojo. "Ah,Ah she's got a little potty mouth,doesn't she Gojo?"

"Mhm,that's not very ladylike (Reader)." Gojo says. "We can't have that,can we?" Behind you the white haired male shakes his head. Gojo's lengthy fingers dig into your tummy even more,sinking the dull tips of his nails deeper.

"You should learn not to talk like that but don't worry Gojo and I will help you learn,m'kay?" How? How—can someone look so kind,so calm while plotting to do something humiliating to you? It doesn't' matter how or why because Geto is still standing over you—kind smile and welcoming eyes gently intimidating you.

"So,open your mouth like a good girl for me and say ahh!" Geto demands. You shake your head no and quickly tuck your lips together. He tuts—disapproving of your stubbornness. "You wanna make it hard for yourself—Fine be that way then. But you will open your mouth for me."

Geto's relative distance to you shortens as he walks closer and closer to you—pushing your body against Gojo's even more. "Gojo pull up her shirt."

"No—NO! D-Don't!" You thrash against Gojo but once more he tightens his grip on your pudge. "You should've listen to Sugu the first time." Gojo mutters as he lifts up your shirt revealing a pastel pink bra. The glasses adorning man whistles,"Is that lace? Who are you wearing that for? Hmm? Is it for me and Sugu,little slut?"

"N-No!" You whimper. "Oh so it's for somebody else?" Geto asks. "No." You reply back. "Mmm so you're wearing something"—Geto's large hand reaches to pinch the strap of the bra—"this pretty just for no one to see it? I don't believe that."

"I think just for her lying you should give her double punishment." Gojo encourages. "Yeah? I think so too. Lil slut won't learn if we aren't a little hard on her."

"Gojo make her open her mouth." Geto says as if they share the same brain—having the same thoughts riddling their in synced minds. Long fingers trace their way down your tummy,teasing the beginning of where your high waisted pants start until finally a loud gasp collapses off your tongue when they're pulled down—revealing the smooth fat that rests on your middle.

You think he's gonna start groping your boobs but instead the pale hands begin gripping your tummy—kneading the skin oh so well that his fingers mush into it. "Oh!" You gasp. And it's cute ,so cute that Gojo's dicks throbs in his loose fitting jeans. Would you make that noise when he puts it inside you? When he makes you swallow his spit? How about when he makes you hump his big thigh while in public?

Gojo's taken away from his thoughts once he hears Geto's familiar voice. "Mmm you got her to open her mouth." Geto hums in approval,"Look at how good her mouth looks open. I think she really is a little slut."

The black haired man pulls your cheeks apart and sticks his middle appendage in your mouth—your tongue crashing against the skin like a giant wave. "Mhmpp!" You move against Gojo once more,droplets of salty tears starting to pour out of you. "Shhh don't fight...take your punishment."

You watch in horror as Geto puckers his lips and translucent liquid drips down his lips—realizing that his lips start getting closer and closer to you.

Until finally you feel wet—degrading liquid coat your lax tongue. The cool saliva coats your mouth,traveling the whole expanse of your open cavern.

"Swallow." You know it's not a question or even a pushy request—it's a command. A reminder that you're under their thumbs like a mouse who's constantly running away from a cat. It's sickening so sickening—so beneath you to be treated like an object yet you find yourself swallowing your pride and gulping down the spit.

"Good whore." Geto mutters. His long finger pops against your inner cheek as he takes it out of your mouth. He pats your chubby cheek and wipes your saliva on your half exposed chest.

"Mmm this kinda bored me." Gojo remarks. Geto hums and backs away from you,"Yeah this pig is kinda not entertaining me anymore. Wanna get something to eat?" The tall man that was positioned behind you snakes his to way over to Geto.

Leaving you to watch as they casually saunter off but Gojo suddenly stops his big strides. "Oh and (Reader),"his tones lowers a bit—scarily so,"don't let us see you hanging out with those guys again. Or we'll actually do something to you."

You stand there in shock—shirt ridden up to your chest and pants flashing bits of your panties. Gojo smiles at you,but it's not a pleasant one—a smile that makes you want to run and hide. They both continue walking and you watch,counting and waiting the steps to see if they're far enough so you can quietly sob.

The moment they get far enough you slide down the cool wall and break out in a array of tears. All you can think is why you? What'd you ever do to anyone to have your life be meddled with so cruelly?

WHY YOU?

━━━━━━━━

"I regret not taking pics." The white haired man pouts. Geto chuckles," There's always next time."

"But she only looked like that awhile ago. Her bra looked so pretty that day. I wished I filmed her swallowing your spit. She looked so fucking cute Sugu...I just wanna stick my dick in her mouth. I wanna make her embarrassed like that again,so fucking bad."

The male smiles amusedly at his friends whines,however he feels the same,he wishes to see you like that all over again. "I think we should give her a visit soon. We haven't seen her in like what two weeks?" Geto and Gojo knows that's not true,they have seen you actually but you haven't seen them. They always check up on you at certain points during the day—making sure you're listening to them about the people you're hanging out and it makes them so damn proud when they see you alone and avoiding all your male friends. You're such a obedient girl.

"Oh thank God! This time I actually wanna do something with her,I've been thinking about what she feels like. And I want you to film it. "

Gojo says enthusiastically. "What do you have in mind?" The bright blue eyed man smiles widely,"You'll see."

━━━━━

"(Reader) are you sure you don't wanna come and watch a movie with us?" The kind voice halts your motions of packing up for the day.

"Nah,I'm sure. I'm gonna catch up on homework so I need the extra time." You explain with a smile. "Alright,but text me if you change your mind. The movie doesn't start for a few more hours."

You nod and wave as your kind classmate walks out the door. You're about done packing up until your trusty mechanical pencil begins rolling down the rows and isles of the seats.

"Dang it." You sigh and annoyedly crouch down—following the pencils straight arrow path. You take tiny steps in order for your bigger body to keep up with the quick pace of the rolling writing device.

Finally it stops at the third row—leaning against the leg of a mahogany chair. You bend down to get it with a smile etched on your face but as you reach to grab it a hauntingly familiar brown leather shoe is planted in front of you.

Suddenly you forget to breath—fear and anxiety grasping the natural function away from you. That same fear making you incapable of looking up to see intimidating bright blue irises.

It's quiet—too quiet and that's what makes it worse for you. You feel like prey—being teased,chased,stalked on, by two superior animals who are waiting to take the final kill.

"Do you wanna stay there on your knees for me or are you gonna greet me?" Jolly is the only way you can describe Gojo's voice—which makes his words only 10x times worse to hear. Ever since you encountered him in the library and attempted to forget him all you got was all too much of him. After the incident you've constantly been hearing about the "Great Gojo", the impossibly handsome trust fund baby of the university. The Gojo who's cute and loud and funny—it makes you wish you knew him due to different circumstances so you could admire him just like everyone else.

No,you had to remind yourself that this isn't the case. Instead you'd get bullied and assaulted by him and his friend Geto.

"Hello?? Is anyone there?" Gojo bends down and prods at your forehead,roughly poking it. "Do you think she heard me Sugu?" Gojo asks. "I dunno let's see." Geto's large hand suddenly rushes to your face and grips the warm flesh together. Both of the handsome men sneer at you and condescendingly share a glance with one another.

"I think someone is home but they're too shy to answer." Geto peers down at you before he whispers,"Shhh it's okay,me and Toru just missed you so much. We just need you to be good for us,m'kay?" You look up at him with wonder—confused by the oh so sweet tone of his voice. It almost makes you feel safe and cared for—almost is the keyword here. Because in only a few seconds your hair is suddenly yanked,having long fingers tangled in it. "I expect an answer when I say anything to you." Geto grunts into your ear.

"Y-Yes!" You whimper out. A warm wet kiss is placed on your chubby cheek as the black hair

man praisingly remarks,"Good job!"

"Since you're gonna be for good for Gojo and me I want you to do something, okay?" You nod and mumble a fearful okay. "Good,now take off your panties and give them to Gojo."

You gulp down a wad of spit as you nervously and shamefully stand up and start quickly sliding off your panties. By the time you get the plain white cotton undies to your ankles Gojo's expectant hand is waiting for you—and like he was expecting you hand the worn material to him.

He places the pair of panties into his pocket and grins at you happily.

Geto's voice rings out,"Now get on his shoe." Snapped out of your fearful daze you yell,"WHAT? I'm not doing that! That's so gross and unsanitary." Gojo pouts,"What's wrong with my shoe? It's not good enough for you?"

"No! That's so gross! No way in hell am I doing that!" You attempt to stand up right and walk away from the pair but a large hand pushes you back down. The force of the body part making you whimper by the sheer power. "Nu uh Geto already filmed you taking off your panties for me. If you walk away we'll have no choice but to show everyone at this university what a dirty slut you are. How would you like that,hmm?"

You mouth flaps open in shock,since when did Geto have a chance to do that?? When did he even take out his phone? You turn and there you see the cellular device pointed right at you. You thought you were screwed then but now...they actually have something way worse to use against you.

Gojo smiles at your realization," So now are you gonna put that pussy on my shoe?" You look up at him and defeatedly turn to still see that Geto's filming and you simply just give in.

You waddle closer to Gojo's foot and set your bare pussy on the rich material—the thick pubes on your mound making contact with the shoe. You can't help but gasp by how cool it feels,it feels new,almost good.

"Move." Gojo says. You look up at the man and gasp once you see and hear how different he looks. His voice sounds less high—lacking the usual teasing and playful tone he talks in. And his eyes—his normally bright blue eyes are now toned down,muddled with dark lust and eagerness.

Your clit bumps and grinds on the expensive laces as you try to set a pace on your own. You huff and whine at the oddly good sensation.

You lean your face on Gojo's pants,slightly biting into the material to hush down your pleasured noises. It feels good because it's so degrading and so wrong—yet you can't deny how wet begin to you feel the more you thrust against the man.

"Mmmf!" Is the noise you're making as you hide your face into his legs,teary eyes closed in hated bliss and ashamed mouth taut open in pleasure. How disgusting you are—enjoying fully how good this is making you feel. You're riding a man's shoe for gods sake, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. Not when your poor hole is opening and closing for nothing. Not when you you can feel four eyes staring at you get yourself off.

"Look at you,such a fat slut. And you tried to act like you didn't want me and Sugu's attention. Dirty slut." You hear a wet noise of Gojo's mouth right before warm hot spit lands on your forehead. You go to wipe it away but Geto's hand grips your wrist,"Don't,you'll ruin your pretty face. Leave it."

You nod and silently gasp once you see the angry bulges of the two men. It makes you even wetter once you see how aroused this made them. Geto seems to noticed your focus gaze,"Aww do you wanna actually see some dicks in real life? Hmm,is that what you want whore?"

Your mouth almost forms the word yes until you remember these men aren't some friends with benefits or boyfriends—no they're bullies who enjoy seeing you struggle. So with that reminder you shake your head no and go to hide your face in Gojo's leg only to feel a hot sting run across your plump cheek. "Liar. Gojo get her off your foot. I'm gonna show her something."

"Aww but I was enjoying watching her! At least let her clean the mess up." Geto rolls his eyes,"Alright,make it quick." Gojo smiles happily before he peers down on you,"Lick." He's not specific because you already know what he wants you to place your tongue on. You stare down where you placed your cunt at and feel grossed out. However,you know one way or another you're going to have to lick his shoe. And you'd rather not get another burning slap from Geto.

So you prod your tongue out,lapping at your own juices placed on the man's costly shoe.

You taste yourself and the taste of oddly wood like leather. It taints your palate,making you scrunch your face in distain as you finish the task. You look up at Gojo and he seems so enthralled—his chest is heaving and his pink lips are slightly agape in surprise? You can't tell but he just looks so fascinated by you. "Wow,you really are a slut." He breathlessly chuckles.

"Mmm,she really is. Anyway take her to the desk Gojo,make sure she's bent over." Without warning Gojo pulls you by your underarms and walks you to the desk. He pushes you down onto it,his hand presses down on your roll adorned back to keep your stomach flat against the desk. You feel him move from behind you,changing his position to be in front of you.

Suddenly you feel a warm hand graze against your dimpled ass—long fingers sinking into the supple flesh. "Now since you wanna lie and act like a fucking prude Imma make you see how badly you want our dicks."

For a few seconds you're left waiting to see what happens. It's suspenseful so suspenseful that you're even staring at Gojo in anticipated wonder. THACK! Is all Gojo hears along with a pained cry.Hot tingles flows though out your pussy—burning sensation fleeting in the wet organ.

"That's what happens when you're not being honest. Your lil pussy gets punished. If you want it stop I just need you to be honest with me. Say you want our dicks inside you."

Your bottom lip trembles pathetically,"I want your dicks inside me." Another harsh slap rains down on your cunt. "Again! You're not saying it like you mean it." This time you force your voice to be louder,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto leans forward until his warm breath can be felt on your face and his big hand yanks your head back. "Now look at the camera and say you want our dicks inside you."

You defeatedly look up at the iPhone camera held in Gojo's large hands,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto let's go of your hair and stands straight,"Good cause we're gonna give it to you." Two hands spread your thighs open and something large and veiny fills the empty space between them. "But you don't deserve any dicks inside you yet. You should've been honest the first time."

Geto grabs your supple waist and grips your tummy from below—with a snap of his hips he's brushing his cock against your inner thighs. Each thrust his rough and fast paced,forcing your head to bob up and down the desk. The graze of his dick against your throbbing clit pulls occasional whimpers and whines from your lips.

On the other side of desk Gojo unbuttons his pants—pale fingers rubbing against the expanse of his tight briefs. "Touch it." Gojo demands. You look up at him as you reach and feel the constant pulse of his cock. It's warm,so warm that the heat is comforting to your whole body in the cool lecture room.

You cup the thick shape protruding from the pure white material and start moving up and down. Gojo pushes himself into your hand—his once opened eyes closed in pleasure. The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock."S-Shit pull em down." The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock.You obey the pleading man,gripping the beginning of his underwear until his oozing cock is revealed.

A gasp falls from your lips at the sheer beauty of it. You stare points blank at his pre cum ridden tip that's oh so rosy. Your thumb finger graces the slit—going up and down on it,feeling his dick get harder and harder. Though, before you can really get a good grip on it one hard thrust from Geto pulls you away from him.

"Aww Sugu...you messed her up." Gojo whines. "Calm down you can use another part of her in a little bit. Switch spots with me." Gojo huffs but obeys Geto. The white haired places his still filming phone onto the desk. The ravenette ends up in front of you,his girthy dick resting on the desk right next to your face. "Have you sucked dick before you?" Geto asks. "N-No." You quietly reply.

"Mmm,of course you haven't. What loser would wanna get sucked off by you?" Liar. Geto's been dreaming of having those pretty lips surround his cock—of slapping your face and cradling those chubby cheeks you have on you. Choking you with his dick while you're all teary eyed and begging for air. But he doesn't hate you,no not at all,this was just a dare that he's happening to be enjoying.

So since it's your first he's gonna go easy on you. "Wait does that mean you've never been fucked before?" Gojo says excitedly. "Mhm." The confirmation makes Gojo's and Geto's dick jump. This is great! No one's been inside before so that really means you're really all theirs,their personal fuck toy who's only been fucked by them. After months of planning how they're gonna pop up into your life and destroy what you've known before,they're finally getting award.

"But that means I gotta stretch you out first,huh?" Gojo dejectedly says. "I know just the way." Gojo sinks down go to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him. You feel cool air fan your warm pussy. Lanky fingers spread your lips apart,pulling the coarse pubes away from the another. The sheer slick of your pussy laying and slicking them down to the mound.

"You surprisingly have a real pretty pussy. It's perfect for taking dick. Too bad no one else is really gonna want it." Untrue,Gojo really wants it. He's been wanting it since Naoya showed that picture to him. He's been craving the feeling of sinking into you and fulling you up. Craving to grip your round tummy as he pounds into you,drilling every single last sperm into you.

A long wet tongue licks the expanse of it,the sensation draining a surprised whine from you. "Mmm, while he warms you up Imma give you a lesson on how to suck." Geto leans down so his face his leveled with yours. He grabs Gojo's phone and points it towards him and you. He points out his index and pointer finger,pressing the digits against your lips. "What I want you to do is ease these into your mouth,okay?"

You nod and your mouth drops open as you feel Gojo's long tongue dig into your cunt. "Mmmf!" You whine. You attempt to only take the tips of Geto's fingers but you rush them into your mouth as you feel more pleasure. Geto roughly taps your face,"I said ease,don't take it all in." You look up at him and just suck on the tips of his fingers. "Good girl,like that until I say so."

Gojo releases his tongue from your hole,instead prodding into your entrance with his fingers. He slips one in and then two,slowly scissoring you open with each curl of his fingers. Geto pushes more of his fingers into your mouth,almost reaching the back of your throat. You gag and attempt to move away from him only to have your head held in place. "Stay. Breath through your nose."

Taking his advice,you hurriedly stable your breathing. Your eyes bubble with tears and your face contorts in uncomfortableness. Finally you're full of relief once Geto slides his fingers out of your mouth. "Good. I think you're ready for the real thing now,huh?"

"Y-Yes." Geto smiles,"Good slut,you learn so fast. You're meant to be a whore for us." Gojo pulls his fingers from your entrance. Geto faces the camera directly on you,"Are you ready to be fucked?" You look up at the camera—flashes of all the treatment you've endure from these two,constant examples of cruelty for no reason course through your memory's, yet you want so badly to mutter the words yes please. You want to be fucked by them,want to know what it's like to have someone inside you.

"Please." Pathetic,weak but you don't care. You've given in one last time and your decision is rewarded with a almost loving kiss from Geto. Gojo practically mounts you as he rests his muscular chest on you,he plants a kiss on the back of your neck that could be seen as a sweet praise or an apology for what he does next.

Without a single warning Gojo sheaths himself in you. You scream and writhe against the wooden desk but Gojo grips your violent body. "It's okay,just take it. Take it."

"I think it's my turn now." Geto looks down at you right before he plunges his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to process what's even happening. All you can do it feel. Feel the slowly pleasurable feeling inside your pussy and feel Geto's thick dick go in and out of your mouth.

The more you begin to feel the better all the overstimulation is. Suddenly Gojo's downright stretch feels so fucking wonderful as thrusts in you. Geto grips onto your hair,guiding your face to go deeper on his dick. "F-Fuck,good slut. Good whore. Imma cum if you keep letting me fuck your face like this."

Minute after minute,you can't catch a break. Not when Gojo's snaps his hips into you like a animal. Like he's so desperate to stay in you—drowned in the utter wet and warmness you offer him. "Good girl,good girl! This pussy feels good! So good!" The blue eyed man babbles.

You feel your oxygen slowly leave you and you roughly tap on Geto’s legs. He frees himself of your mouth and instead busies himself with slapping his heavy cock onto your face as you catch your breath. You can’t even do that though because Gojo reaches from under you and rubs your clit with a passion.

Moan upon moan leaves your mouth,like a broken record playing over and over again. Your song is becomes muffled once Geto finds his cock in your slack mouth. You quiver underneath Gojo as you feel a hot feeling tingle with in you.

You were gonna cum,so soon. With three snaps of Gojo hips you come undone and you begin to lose feeling everywhere. You feel like a lifeless fuckdoll,just a cocksleeve for Gojo and Geto’s dicks.

Gojo feels you cum and groans,”Shitttt I’m close.” Although Geto doesn’t agree verbally his thrusts in your mouth become more hurried and desperate. In and out is all you can feel.

It feels like hours of tortuous pleasure. A sick sadistic game being toiled onto your body. But it ends once hot,warm fluid courses in your walls. “Mmmmmm!” Is all the men can hear from you. Gojo pulls out and Geto pulls one last thrust into your mouth before he cums all the way down into your throat.

He grips his dick and slides it out. You hurry to swallow his seed and almost choke due to the quickness.

It’s quiet throughout the big classroom,only heavy breathing being heard. Geto looks down at you having Gojo’s phone in hand and travels the entirety of your body. He finally tosses it to him and the man catches it quietly.

Geto bends down so he’s once again on your level,”I’m telling you this now and I want you to know I mean it. You,your body,everything that makes you a person belongs to us.” Each word is said with such powerful emphasis that all you can do is silently agree.

An agreement that leads you down a interesting path with the pair.

━━━━━━

From a game of truth and dare,to bullying,to becoming fond of you ,all the way to fucking you every single day,to adorning you with the proper title of their girl.

The two have learned some truth from a juvenile game. They learned that they’ve should’ve never met you,should’ve never crossed paths with you because now they’re completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even if they cover it up with insults and threats,they’d go crazy if other people had you like how they have.

Reblogs area greatly appreciated🫶🏽🫶🏽!!

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