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catchastarorten · 4 months ago

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—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

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seelestia · 1 year ago

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✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector, yet utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face are for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x you #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr angst #seelestial.inks #gambler & knight 🎲

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nnon0 · 1 year ago

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JJH fic recs

other fic rec posts : 1.(active post) 2.

been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)

(🫀) -personal faves

all these years @domjaehyun

WC: 34.1k

fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au

Just friends @lonelyharmonies

WC: 22k

Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

(🫀) Only @ppangjae

WC: 21.6k

almost!lovers au

You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?

Romeo roulette @wincore

WC:21.1k

soulmate au, office au, fake dating

if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight

WC: 18.7k

Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers

jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.

(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic

WC: 17k

heartbreakers, smut

A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.

(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 17k

school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun

As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.

(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae

WC:13.7k

poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers

As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.

I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs

WC:11.8k

friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut

there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts.

Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan

WC: 10.2k

Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving

synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)

Boyfriend material @mochidoie

WC: 6.2k

fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Back up Valentine @tyonfs

WC: 2.9k

Spiderman!jaehyun

you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.

SERIES

S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun

WC:66.2k

heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories

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lyvhie · 2 months ago

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★ ˙ ̟ ─── . “click, boom!”.

| summary | Maybe that was the thing with him. No one could be this hot and normal at the same time. That would explain why you were sitting here, half-naked, playing a death game with a stranger. | cw | smut, russian roulette game, oral (m), big cock johnny 👅, deep throat, pet names. | a/n | friends, be honest, do you think id have a chance with haechan

The sharp click of the gun after he pulled the trigger was the only sound that echoed through the dark room. You didn’t flinch, but your heart pounded beneath your chest as you stared at him. He smiled—calm, amused even—as he handed the gun over to you, the weight of the cold metal pressing into your palm.

"Your turn," he said, his voice laced with delight, as though the possibility of death was nothing more than a passing inconvenience. The playful glint in his eyes only heightened the tension, like he was enjoying every second of the twisted game.

You weren't sure how it had come to this. The dim lights, the suffocating silence, the gleam of the revolver. All you remembered was the charming stranger, his voice dripping with temptation as he asked if you were willing to play. A simple game, he called it. With a generous sum of money promised if you won.

But you weren’t that innocent, of course. You knew it would involve something dirty—no one would offer such an absurd amount of money without expecting something in return. You just didn’t expect it to be this. And, to be honest, a part of you was compelled by him—by the way his presence filled the room, how his movements were so effortlessly smooth, how that sly smile never left his face since the moment he first approached you.

He was handsome. Devastatingly so. Well-mannered, too. Every word that left his lips was laced with charm, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. It was intoxicating.

You took a deep breath, the cold air biting against your skin as you reached for the zipper of your hoodie. It slid down slowly, the sound deafening in the silence. Without a second thought, you shrugged it off, the heavy fabric pooling at your feet.

Not only did you have to play Russian roulette—but each time the gun failed, you had to strip. He said it would make things more fun. And the worst part? You didn’t argue.

There was something disturbingly thrilling about it all—the danger, the adrenaline, the way his eyes gleamed with please as he watched your every move. Curiosity buzzed beneath your skin. You could still feel the warmth of his hand from when he passed you the gun, the ghost of his touch lingering.

"That's the spirit," he purred, his voice low, eyes flicking over you with a dangerous spark. "Now, let’s see if luck is on your side."

“People were right when they said you shouldn't trust overly generous people,” you said, your fingers steady as you cocked the gun once more, the cold metal heavy in your grip. You lifted it to the side of your head, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. “You're like a wolf in sheep's clothing.”

Then, without hesitation, you pulled the trigger.

Click.

Just the sound of the empty chamber. No bullet. Only that hollow, nerve-racking noise that echoed through the dimly lit room.

Oh. That was… easier than you thought. And actually… fun. The rush of uncertainty, the split second where fate toyed with you—it sent a strange thrill down your spine. Your stomach twisted in a way that shouldn't have been pleasant, but somehow, it was. The adrenaline pulsed through your veins, making your breaths come a little quicker.

A shaky exhale left your lips, the tension momentarily breaking. He watched you intently, his diversion barely concealed beneath that charming, wicked smile.

"Careful," he drawled, his voice low and smooth, as if savoring your every reaction. "You might get a taste for this."

With a chuckle, he reached down, his fingers working the buckle of his belt. The soft clink of the metal hitting the floor reverberated through the room, each sound lingering in the air like a taunt.

He extended his arm to you, waiting for you to hand the gun over. But instead of complying, you raised your brows and held it away, as if daring him to make a move.

“What? Do you want to play twice?” he tilted his head slightly, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“No,” you shot back, your voice tinged with disbelief. “I just… That’s it? I took off my hoodie, and you took off your… belt? Really?”

You tried to sound indignant, like the absurdity of the situation was what truly bothered you. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. A part of you, a very stubborn, very curious part, wanted to see him lose. Piece by piece. You hated to admit it, but the thought of him sitting there, bare and vulnerable, was dangerously tempting.

He caught the flicker of frustration in your eyes, and his grin widened. “You sound disappointed,” he teased.

“I just think the stakes aren’t exactly balanced,” you shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Like, it wouldn’t be fair if I discarded each piece of my earrings one by one, right?”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if genuinely considering your words. “Fair point,” he conceded, his hands moving to loosen his tie before slipping it off. Without hesitation, he followed by shrugging off his suit jacket, letting it slide down his arms effortlessly.

Your eyebrow twitched slightly in approval. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of an open reaction, but you did take a moment to admire the way his dress shirt clung to his frame, highlighting the muscles beneath.

Mhm. That was a nice view.

He wasn't oblivious to your reactions—quite the opposite. He was observant, very observant. It was a necessary skill in his line of work, after all. He noticed the subtle shift in your expression, the way your gaze lingered just a bit too long.

“Like what you see?” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Tsk. You were caught.

You scoffed, leaning back slightly in an attempt to look unbothered. “I’m just making sure the game stays fair.”

“Of course,” he mused, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt with slow, deliberate movements. The way the fabric slid up his forearms, revealing the defined lines beneath, felt almost calculated—like he knew exactly what he was doing and was enjoying the effect it had on you.

Your fingers tapped idly against the cool metal of the gun, feigning boredom, even as your heartbeat betrayed you. “Your turn.”

He didn’t hesitate, taking the gun with practiced ease. The weight of it settled naturally in his hand as he spun the cylinder, the faint metallic click slicing through the quiet room. He handled it with the confidence of someone who had done this too many times before. As if this wasn’t some reckless game but a scenario he was all too familiar with.

“I must admit, I’m curious,” you began, crossing one leg over the other, your eyes never leaving the way the cold metal of the gun pressed against his temple. “I want to know about you and what kind of life you've been living until now.”

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly, the smirk on his lips suggesting a bit of amusement. “There’s nothing interesting about me, I guarantee you.”

Without hesitation, his finger pressed down on the trigger again, his calm demeanor never wavering, as if this were nothing more than a casual activity.

Click.

Empty. Again.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the result. You were starting to enjoy this. The thrill was intoxicating, even in its strange way.

Your hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up swiftly, revealing more of your skin. The cool air brushed against your exposed torso as the fabric slid off your shoulders. His eyes followed your every move, dark and intense, like he was studying the way each inch of you was uncovered. Your laced bra rested against your skin, and you could see his gaze land briefly on the curve of your breasts before drinking in the full view of you, his attention far from subtle.

It was your time to ask now.

“Like what you see?” you asked, your voice dripping with a playful confidence.

That got him. He chuckled, his annoyingly beautiful smile returning once again, his eyes twinkling with that same amusement, though there was something else beneath it. “Pretty much,” he replied, his voice lower now, as if the game had shifted—just like the energy in the room.

You rolled your eyes, reaching your arm forward to grab the gun. "By the way," you said, tilting your head slightly. "Since we're having such a romantic time here, I think it might be appropriate to know your name too, don’t you think?”

The thought hit you suddenly. Amidst all the tension and the strange game you found yourself playing, you realized you had no idea who he really was—not that it had been your first priority in the heat of the moment, but it seemed important now. After all, the man who was just a few pieces of clothing away from seeing you completely exposed deserved at least a little bit of an introduction.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, as if debating whether he should share that piece of information. Finally, he sighed, his tone remaining as composed as ever. "I suppose it’s only fair. The name’s Johnny."

You hummed in acknowledgment, then, without hesitation, pressed the trigger. As expected, at least, according to your growing, perhaps overly confident instincts, nothing happened.

You exhaled through your nose, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Then take off your clothes, Johnny.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Bossy, huh? I like it,” he murmured, fingers already working at the buttons of his dress shirt.

And just like that, it was your turn to stare.

Your gaze trailed over every inch of skin that was revealed, anticipation buzzing beneath your skin. Each undone button exposed more of his chest—toned, sculpted, an expanse of muscle that spoke of both discipline and danger. His abs, defined and firm, flexed slightly as he moved, and his arms… God, his arms. Strong, built, perfect for a headlock, if you thought about it.

It really was a shame you hadn’t met him under different circumstances. It was a shame, really. One of you wouldn't make it out of this game alive. At least, if it came down to it, you'd had a hell of a view before death.

His voice calling your name, smooth, almost teasing, snapped you out of your trance, sending a strange, unwelcome flutter through your stomach.

"You’re drooling.”

"What?" Your hand instinctively shot up, brushing the back of it against your mouth before you even had time to process he was just messing with you. After all, you could really be drooling after such a show.

Johnny let out a genuine laugh, the kind that made his shoulders shake slightly. The sound was rich, effortless, annoyingly attractive.

Your glare only made him chuckle harder.

"Not funny, Johnny," you grumbled.

"Oh, it’s very funny," he mused. "But don’t worry, I’m flattered."

You only rolled your eyes and kept your mouth shut, determined not to embarrass yourself further. Instead, you focused on the gun in your hand, at least it was a good distraction.

A few more rounds passed, and now both of you were left in nothing but your undergarments. The tension in the air had shifted, but not entirely because of the game.

You took in the sight before you—his broad shoulders, the defined muscles of his torso, the way his skin looked under the dim light. Yeah. Really a nice view.

And he thought the same. You were very pleasant to look at. Especially the way you tried to maintain a composed demeanor, even when your fingers absentmindedly tapped against your thigh, a telltale sign of impatience, or perhaps an attempt to contain the slight embarrassment of being in such a situation.

He had noticed it since the start of the game. Every time he took his time undressing, your fingers would start their little rhythm, as if urging him to hurry up. It was funny, really—how you pretended to be unaffected, yet your body betrayed you in the smallest ways.

Especially since it was his turn to strip. With only his boxers left, you were really, really impatient this time.

That said, he had an idea. A rather fun one.

“What if we change the terms of our little game?” he started, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Why?” You raised a teasing brow, eyes shamelessly raking over his body. “Getting shy now that you’re about to show me your…” You trailed off, your own smirk widening as you let your gaze dip lower.

Your words had him laughing softly, completely unfazed by your obvious ogling. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

He shifted in his chair, spreading his legs a little wider. Your eyes flickered down—oh. You blinked a few times at the unmistakable bulge straining against his boxers.

“As you can see,” he mused—hell, you could see very well—“things would be over the moment I take this off.”

Oh. That’s what he was talking about.

“And that wouldn’t be too fun, would it?” He tilted his head slightly, watching you. “Just sitting here, staring at each other all bare. Where’s the thrill in that?”

“Yeah, I guess so…” You wet your lips, forcing yourself to look up. “What do you suggest, then?”

“We could make a deal,” he began, his gaze slowly trailing over you. “If my gun fails, instead of taking off your clothes… you’ll have to suck me off.”

Your breath hitched slightly, not out of shock, no, you should’ve expected something like this. It was the way he said it, so casual, so confident, like he already knew you wouldn’t refuse.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning thoughtfulness as you tapped your finger against your thigh. “Hmm… and if my gun fails?”

Johnny smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Then I’ll return the favor.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sheer confidence in his voice. He wasn’t even asking, he was stating it like a certainty, like he already knew exactly how things would play out.

You let out a slow exhale, gripping the gun tighter. “That’s a bold proposition.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. “Scared?”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “You wish.”

“Then it’s a deal?” He extended his hand toward you, waiting.

With a smirk, you shook his hand. “Deal.”

He hummed in satisfaction at your words and stood up, his fingers hooking onto the waistband of his boxers. With one smooth motion, he pushed them down, letting the fabric pool at his feet. His cock sprang free, tapping against his toned stomach, and your breath hitched in your throat.

You tried not to stare—really, you did—but your eyes betrayed you, flickering down before you could stop yourself. He noticed, of course. The knowing smirk that curled his lips told you that much.

“My eyes are up here, pretty,” he teased, stretching his arms lazily as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

You cleared your throat, forcing your gaze to meet his, but not before muttering an ‘I know’ under your breath. You handed him the gun, your fingers lingering slightly as you passed it over, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and curiosity rise within you.

Despite your usual confidence, something about this moment made your heart race. You wouldn't admit it, but deep down, you were praying for him to survive this round, because if he did…

Your mouth watered at the thought.

You watched intently as he acted just as he had from the start—calm, unbothered, overly confident, sure that everything would unfold just as he expected. And so it did, as the solemn click of the gun echoed for what seemed like the ninth time that night.

Your eyes met, and that victorious smile was on his face, the one you’d love nothing more than to wipe off. You weren’t sure if it should be that erotic to have a naked man holding a gun in front of you, waiting for you to suck him off, but… hell yeah, it definitely was.

“Well, I should get my rewar—I mean, my punishment,” he bit his lower lip, still smiling as he watched you rise from your seat and take those few, slow steps toward him.

He smelled insanely good, and now that you were close, no longer as apprehensive as before, you could take in the tattoos covering his skin. Why did he keep getting hotter?

“I’m starting to think that was your goal from the very beginning,” you said, rolling your eyes as you used your foot to push aside his discarded suit, positioning it just right for you to kneel on.

“Hmm, perhaps?” Even his eyes were smiling at you. “I can’t deny that I made these special rules just for you.”

He used the barrel of the gun to push a strand of your hair away from your face. The cold metal grazing your skin sent a shiver through you.

“What do you mean by special rules?” you asked, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“Well,” his eyes never left yours as he spoke. “Let’s just say we should’ve ended this a lot sooner.” He slid the gun down your face, tracing a path to your lips, pressing it lightly against your lower lip, making them part just slightly. “But my intentions changed a little as we talked.”

“And why is that?” You felt like you were in a trance, his gaze never wavering from yours, and his voice was so smooth, so damn captivating.

“You ask too many questions. I’m starting to get impatient,” he said, his tone playful, but with just enough edge to make you unconsciously look down at the sight of his hard length, leaking with pre-cum. “You can sit with the knowledge that I liked you,” he continued, using the gun to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes again.

God, he’s so hot.

"I really hate that mysterious persona of yours," you murmured, frowning slightly as your hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a slow stroke. A sharp breath escaped him, his composure wavering just for a second.

His slight reaction had you smiling in satisfaction. You wanted to press for more answers, but you knew he wouldn’t budge, so instead, you played it cool, pretending not to care as you finally sank to your knees.

Facing his throbbing cock, you took in the sight of the swollen tip, glistening with pre-cum.

You could feel his gaze tracking your every movement, heavy and unrelenting. When you looked up, his eyes were dark—no trace of that provoking smile, just raw anticipation as he waited for you to begin.

Slowly, you stuck out your tongue, dragging the wet muscle over the flushed head of his cock in a teasing lick. His thigh tensed slightly at the contact.

“Sensitive, aren’t we?” you teased.

A low, strained chuckle left his lips, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he just watched you, his grip tightening around the gun.

You licked him again, slowly, just to see how much you could make him squirm. His breath hitched, but he still held himself back, refusing to give you more than that.

“Nothing to say?” you hummed, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, stroking him lazily. “And here I thought you liked talking.”

His jaw tensed. You could feel him twitch in your hand, the weight of his stare burning into you.

“I like making you work for it,” he finally murmured, voice rough.

You smirked, tightening your grip just slightly. “Not so mysterious anymore, hm?”

And with that, you finally took him into your mouth—unhurried, teasing, making sure he felt every second of it. His groan was quiet at first, but when you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, he finally let out a ragged curse.

That annoying, pretty smile you wanted to wipe off? Gone.

Your mouth felt like heaven to him, your warm, wet tongue swirling around his length and then pulling back with a great, delicious suck. You could hear his soft grunts as you bobbed your head back and forth, speeding and then returning to a steady pace.

Honestly, he was too big, so you had to compensate for what couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand—but his moans were too addicting for you not to push yourself further.

Bracing your hands on his thighs, you took him even deeper, relaxing your throat to welcome him fully. Your nose grazed his pubic area as you squeezed your eyes shut, breathing through your nose, determined to take all of him.

“Fuck,” Johnny exhaled, his legs nearly buckling at the overwhelming sensation. His hand shot down, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tight as he held you in place. You felt his thighs tremble slightly beneath your palms as your throat tightened around him, drawing a ragged groan from his lips.

Throwing his head back just a little, he let himself savor the feeling, his grip tightening as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push you deeper or pull you away before he lost control completely, after all, the deal was you sucking him off, and not him fucking your mouth.

You finally pulled back, leaving him slick and glistening, and he groaned softly, only to have the sound cut short when you took him back into your mouth without hesitation. He barely had time to miss the sensation before you were working him over again, lips and tongue relentless.

Then, you felt his hand loosening from your hair, the absence of his grip almost disorienting. A second later, the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked echoed in the room.

Your eyes flicked up to him, curiosity flickering in your gaze, but you didn’t stop. You kept your mouth on him, kept moving, pushing the moment to its limits.

Johnny smirked, his expression unreadable as he brought his free hand to your cheek, thumb stroking it with a tenderness that contrasted the weight of the barrel now pressing lightly against your head.

“May I take the chance to test your luck for you?” he murmured, voice smooth, teasing, but laced with something darker.

Well, having your brains blown out mid-blowjob wouldn’t exactly be hot, but… oh well. You simply shrugged and let him play his game, nails sinking into his thighs as you sucked him harder, pulling another raw, pleasure-drenched sound from his lips.

The cold metal of the gun pressed against you again. Then—click. The trigger was pulled. Nothing.

Honestly? You couldn’t have cared less.

He, on the other hand, seemed very pleased with the result. And in fact, he was. The thought of returning the favor, of having you squirming under his tongue, only pushed him closer to the edge. Combined with the tight heat of your throat, the way you swallowed him so perfectly, it was all too much.

Johnny didn’t bother warning you. He simply tightened his grip in your hair and pulled you down, burying himself to the hilt, your nose pressing against his abs as he spilled deep into your throat.

He only released you when you frantically tapped his thigh, your silent plea growing desperate. The moment his grip loosened, you pulled back with a gasp, gulping down air as your chest heaved.

Johnny, on the other hand, just watched you, satisfaction written all over his face.

“Not cool, Johnny,” you glared up at him, trying to sound annoyed, though the way you licked your lips clean might’ve betrayed you.

“You’re right,” he nodded, his voice laced with amusement as his hand slid into your hair, petting you like you were something he owned. “That wasn’t very chivalrous of me.”

Then, with a smirk, he tilted your chin up, his thumb grazing your swollen lips.

“Let me make it up to you, pretty.”

↝ taglist: @nebularsung, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

#johnny x reader #johnny suh x reader #johnny smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 #johnny suh

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cyberlillies · 2 months ago

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caleb + sylus + double gun play

cw: no explicit consent/dubcon, gun play, degradation, pissing/mentions of piss, gun scare, they're playing russian roulette in reader's body so yeah... you have been warned, no actual gore tho.

wc: ~1.1k

"hmm. feeling stuck?" sylus peered down at your teary face, a smirk lacing his lips. "go on, kitten, move. his gun or my gun?"

you hear a laugh behind you. "i think she likes mine better. she's already shaking her hips like a whore." caleb snickers, putting emphasis on the last word.

you were definitely stuck, body sprawled across the laps of the two men. your face remained in sylus's grasp, while your legs were held open by caleb. each had their precious guns in hand, which were now stuffed deep into your mouth and your cunt, the duo asking you to choose the better one.

you whined, their guns were thicker than you expected, stretching you out and making you gag. you were drooling from both holes, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth while juices flowed from your abused pussy.

sylus tsked. "she's making such a mess." his pants were wet with your spit, you could see a dark patch right above where his cock should be.

"yes, she is. look." caleb swiped some of your juices, showing sylus the way it shined and formed strings between his fingers. "what a dirty girl. wonder how she tastes." he licked his fingers, tasting your arousal. "sweet. good thing i fed her all those apples, huh." his tone a bit too possessive for sylus's liking.

sylus growled impatiently. "don't get too ahead of yourself. she still hasn't chosen either of us."

the men turned their eyes to you lying fucked in a pool of your spit and juices. you squirmed in place, both men having trapped you in a tricky situation. you'd never known a discussion about weapons would lead to this.

"pipsqueak, come on." caleb chided. "it's getting rude now. choose one." he carefully rolled his wrist, causing the barrel of his gun to rub against your walls, making you feel the coldness of the metal on your warm insides.

you moan around sylus's gun, who takes this chance to push it deeper into your throat. your nose hit the trigger guard, the barrel reaching till your gag reflex. you held back your coughs, breathing deeply as sylus waited till you were relaxed enough to push again.

"tch. we've given her enough chances, don't you think?" sylus muses. "instead, why don't we show her how these guns work?"

"good idea." caleb smirked.

"one bullet in each gun. whoever gets to you first, wins." sylus holds your chin up, angling his gun to press into the top of your mouth. "you ready, kitten?"

you furiously shook your head. they wouldn't? would they?

"oh yes, we would." caleb speaks as if he had read your thoughts. his hand moved to press the gun further up your cunt, your walls clinging on for dear life as the tip of the gun grinded against your cervix. your hole closed up, trying to force him out but it worked the opposite — your pussy keeping him in place as he thrusted deeper.

"ready, sweetie?" sylus asked, a finger ready on the trigger. you whimpered, "mmhph- mhm, ngh, n-!"

you felt the click before you heard it. your body tensed up, fear constricting you, heart furiously pumping blood through your veins. no bullets went off, not in your mouth, not in your pussy. you were still alive.

"beginner's luck." sylus scoffed, displeased at having to compete another round with the smug colonel. caleb, on the other hand, was having the time of his life watching your hole flutter around his gun. "you're missing out on this view. she's trembling like a leaf. wouldn't be surprised if she pissed herself out of fear."

"i must see for myself." sylus's gun left your mouth. you took a deep breath while he settled between your legs. "move over. it's my turn with her." caleb would have objected, but he had better plans for you.

you were suddenly very empty, then you were full again. sylus wasted no time in burying his gun to the hilt, the lubrication from your spit helping him reach your core easily. "ah! no.. no..!" you cried out as you were manhandled into a position folding you into half, giving them unrestricted access to you.

caleb lined up his gun to your clit, rubbing fast circles as sylus lazily thrusted his. "ready for round two?" caleb didn't wait for your answer. "in three, two..."

"no.. please.. aah-fuck.. fuck!" you protested loudly.

"...one."

another series of clicks. nothing happened. except you squealing and sobbing fat tears down your face.

"aw, don't cry. you're only turning us on." caleb mocked you with a fake pout.

"should we stop teasing her?" sylus deliberately gave you false hope, watching your face light up as you nod manically. "just kidding. i'm not stopping till i win."

"please.. i'm sorry.. please." you beg forgiveness, unsure of your transgressions.

"sorry? for what, sweetie? aren't we just having a little fun?" sylus tilted his head, faking confusion.

"yeah, pipsqueak. isn't it fun? guessing whose gun goes off first?" you shake your head. no, it's not fun. "really? why are you dripping then? is it the fear? or are you secretly feeling good?"

"that can't be. she's too much of a goody shoes to feel good in such debauchery." sylus quipped.

you whined in desperation, shaking your hips in protest. "no..."

"no? no?" caleb pressed his gun harder into your clit. "what if i did this then?"

"don't..." your hands flailed around, trying to release yourself from their grip.

"stop struggling." you feel the hum of caleb's evol around you, threatening to hold you down. his lips reach to your ear, licking away at the stray tears. all the while sylus has been pounding into your poor hole, his finger ready on the trigger.

"ready? the probability of a real gunshot is quite high, pipsqueak." caleb tutted. "i'd be scared if i were you."

you shake your head, whimpering pleas of mercy as he holds up his hand, counting down from three fingers. two. one.

"bang."

terror enveloped you, enough to get you leaking all over their laps. you were too petrified to realise you had squirted all over them, peed all over them. the men groaned, feeling your hot release drip over their guns, soak into their clothes, make a mess.

"fuck, pipsqueak, you actually pissed yourself!" caleb laughed in disbelief. "a hunter being so terrified of guns? how did they let you in the association?"

"all the more she needs us to protect her." sylus added. "what if she pisses herself during a mission, huh? can't have you embarrass yourself like that, sweetheart."

"looks like we'll have to train you all night. fuck the fear of guns out of you, yeah?"

a/n: my applecrow i need them so bad... this was rushed as hell btw.

#caleb smut #caleb x reader smut #lads caleb smut #lnds caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lnds smut #sylus smut #sylus x reader smut #lads sylus smut #lnds sylus smut

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babyblankyerror · 4 months ago

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Stanley plays Russian Roulette but puts in all bullets except one. He's rigging the system because that's what he's best at and it just makes it a bit easier to pull the trigger.

How the heck is he supposed to react when he survives on a 5/6 chance?

When a postcard arrives, he understands why. He's alive to help his brother out...then maybe he could try again.

#stanley pines #prompt #even cooler if Stanford somehow sees his memories of this scene teeheh #or is there #or something uwu #stan pines #gravity falls

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alessiathepirate · 5 months ago

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Squid Game

RUSSIAN ROULETTE: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader

Summary: A game of Russian roulette can reveal many secrets...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: death and violence, guns, swearing, referenced and/or mentioned trauma, mentioned suicide, Gi-hun and reader being oblivious, the Salesman ships it (in his own way) [the Frontman ships it - in fact, everyone does]

●●●

If a God really, truly exists, she thought, then this is the moment when I should be grateful.

She was grateful. Truly grateful.

She was the one who had gotten into that seemingly unescapeable situation and not Gi-hun.

She was in danger and not Gi-hun.

She had a slim, one in six chance of dying and not Gi-hun.

She'd die if she lost and not Gi-hun.

She liked that thought - the last one. It almost made her smile, almost, since she knew it'd be best if she didn't show any emotion. If she did, she'd give the Salesman a new card he could play and he already had the advantage regarding information.

Russian roulette... What a strange way to die. It's a death by luck, yet it's suicide too - since she'll be the one who'll pull the trigger.

Then, her mind darkened. What would Gi-hun say? How would he feel if he'd find her body? Her dead, bloody corpse. He lost so much already. He wouldn't survive another death.

But still... she'd rather die herself, than see him die.

She picked up the gun as the music played in the background, as that crazy motherfucker sat at the other side of the table in his fancy suit, with his chilly smile.

Her hand wasn't shaking as she put the barrel against her head -- she was ready to die - for Gi-hun; yet she was ready to win too - for Gi-hun.

She pulled the trigger, then blinked. She successfully made the chance one in five.

The Salesman took the revolver, showed her his bare teeth as he put the gun against his head and took the shot. Yet nothing happened.

One in four...

Crazy fucker.

She took the gun again and got ready to pull the trigger - but before she could see if she'll live or die, the Salesman leaned forward and began to talk.

She looked him in the eyes even if his whole being scared her to death, especially the fact that he could go from zero to a hundred in no time. He was usually so calm, so elegant - now he was just the word insanity itself with blood on his face.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." he said as he examined her, hunting for any sign of weakness. "For one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji. Don't get me wrong, you weren't as bad as Seong Gi-hun, but still... A player like you? Surviving?" he tilted his head to the side and sighed. "The two terrible ddakji players survived and I have to say - you fueled my curiousity." he leaned in even closer, his nose almost touching hers. "So I asked around... and let me tell you what I was told: only one of you was suppossed to live and take the money."

She felt a chill run down her spine as the thought of Gi-hun dying ran through her head. Her hands shook - and he didn't fail to notice it.

"But apparently your relationship with Seong Gi-hun; both of you trying to play the hero to save the other, was much more entertaining to our special guests." the Salesman just smiled, yet this time around there was something wicked and wrong with the way his lips curled upwards. "And then I realized that they were right."

Her hold on the revolver tightened from anger as she imagined some rich fuckers enjoying the 'show' in which they were fighting for their damn lifes.

She remembered what the boss said before he dropped Gi-hun and her off with their new credit card -- but they weren't damn horses!

"You and him, together - that really is more entertaining." he continued, his voice taunting and playful.

She pulled the trigger - in anger. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from saying something stupid.

She lived.

One in three...

The Salesman tilted his head once again as he reached for the gun. It seemed like he found something truly interesting.

"Tell me... did you tell him?"

Tell him what? She shouted on the inside, but she stayed quiet.

The Salesman put the barrel in his mouth, never breaking eye-contact, as he continued: "Did you tell him how you feel?"

Click...

One in two...

She felt her mouth run dry as she looked at him - and this time she was sure she had panic in her eyes.

How she felt?

How did she really feel?

She would die for him - that's how. And one in two, the slim chance of survival, that fifty-fifty; was seemingly leading her there: dying for him.

The Salesman opened his palm, the revolver was laying in his hand. It was like an offering.

"You didn't." it wasn't a question, but a statement. "What a horrible way to die, isn't it? Dying without confessing." his smile was wide and taunting. "Dying for the man you love and he will never even know about it."

She felt her lips tremble.

Won't he? Is he that clueless?

But there's still a chance, a fifty-fifty, that she'd live to...

She took the gun and looked at it. Two shots. She could cheat and kill him. At least he'd finally shut up...

"What's the matter?" he asked, his voice unusually happy and entertained. "Is your mind starting to race? Now your odds of death are one in two. That's pretty high indeed." when she didn't say anything he continued: "I'm sure you're afraid." Was she? "Lots going through your mind. Let me guess what you are thinking right now. 'Screw the rules. The gun's in my hand. Pull the trigger once, or twice and I can blow this guy's face off.' Isn't that right? If you want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket. You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. If you want to meet Seong Gi-hun again without taking that fifty-fifty chance, you can shoot me and call him - tell him to come 'home'. But before you decide what to do I'll have you admit a few things."

She hated his voice, his smile - his damn manipulation techniques... She just wanted to leave or die peacefully - die without confessing...

Did she really want to take that chance?

Before she could answer her own question, the Salesman interrupted her train of thought: "That you're a piece of trash, just like everyone else. Just like Seong Gi-hun. A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster. A piece of trash who isn't even brave enough to make the first move. A piece of trash who's weak, scared - who didn't deserve to win at all. Not when you don't even have the strength to look at the prize you had won."

Click...

She pulled the trigger without even realizing - without a second thought regarding fear of death itself.

Her breathing became fast and uneven as she finally smiled, grinning at the man with evil taunt.

The Salesman's smile disappeared and disbelief took its place.

How... disappointing. Losing your own game.

She gave him the revolver with an open palm.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice both happy and angry. "Is your mind starting to race? What a terrible way to die - losing in your own game..." She'd see him again... "That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me. But... I'll have you admit a few things. Things Gi-hun thinks about you - truths he knows about you... You put a mask over your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark and wag your tail for them." she leaned in closer, her voice taunting. "You are nothing more than their dog. A fucking puppy on a very tight leash."

To her surprised, the Salesman just smiled and took the revolver. Then, he looked her in the eyes. For a moment, his expression became calm as usual - for a second, the first impression she had of him was back.

"Well played, Y/N." he leaned in as if he wanted to tell her a secret. "Now -- tell him..."

The Salesman put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Boom!

Blood tainted her face as his body fell back and the revolver fell from his hand.

Now -- tell him... Should she?

●●●

It didn't take long for that cop to find her with the Salesman's corpse sitting right in front of her.

Jun-ho. The cop who was looking for his brother, and who came to her and Gi-hun for help. And they refused to help the guy, since they were neck deep in debts and danger.

He thought she killed him. And in a way she did. She gave the gun to the Salesman. She wanted him to lose and die.

Yet she didn't feel bad about it all.

Jun-ho was about to cuff her when Woo-seok arrived and saved her from being arrested.

Soon, the cop was in the bathtub, cuffed and unconscious - and Woo-seok was looking at the Salesman with fear and disgust.

She let him grieve. Kim was dead - he died right in front of him, and she knew it wasn't something you can just forget and forgive.

Where's Gi-hun? She wanted to ask, but still waited patiently for Woo-seok to calm down and get dressed.

"What happened here?" she felt his voice before she heard it.

The feelings Gi-hun's voice alone made her feel with her whole body, were the best things in the world. Whenever he was talking she felt safe, calm and loved. More like: wanted.

Gi-hun's hair and clothes were wet from the rain, his voice was full of worry as he looked at the corpse of the man he had been looking for for years.

"Are you all right?" the question was meant for her.

She could hear the Salesman's voice in her head - taunting her, making her jump and tell him right away: next to a corpse, a traumatized guy and a cuffed, unconscious cop...

"I am." she said, and she could feel her heart beating faster than usual as he ran to her and hugged her tightly. "Are you?"

Gi-hun just nodded and then looked at the dead body.

"What happened?"

For a moment she thought about what she should say.

"Russian roulette." she explained - and Woo-seok shook in disgust. "He lost and now I have the 'key'."

Instead of getting greedy, asking for the damn card, Gi-hun just hugged her again, even tighter.

"I'm so glad you're all right. When you didn't pick up I knew something was wrong."

She could feel her heart flutter.

"Gi-hun..." Now or never - the adrenaline was still present, making her brave enough to choose now. "Can we... talk? Please?"

"Of course, is everything all right?"

"Yes, I just..."

Woo-seok just raised his hands and took a deep breath. "I think I... need some air. I'll be outside and then I'll-- help, with the clean-up."

"Will you be all right?" she asked, making sure he won't collapse on the way out.

Woo-seok just nodded and left the room quickly - as if he was afraid the corpse would come back to life and threaten him again.

She looked at the Salesman once again - in a strange way his taunting was the thing that gave her strength.

"While we were playing he said a few things... Truths, mostly." she began, avoiding Gi-hun's eyes. "When I took the gun I thought... how grateful I am that I'd die and not you. And I- I wasn't afraid of dying, Gi-hun, I was afraid I'd die without telling you that--" she stopped right before the confession and closed her eyes.

She was afraid to look at him.

She stared death in the face not even ten minutes ago, yet she was scared to see Gi-hun's reaction.

"Y/N... Look at me, please." Gi-hun held onto her shoulders gently as he made her turn around, and she slowly opened her eyes.

She saw no hatered or disgust. Gi-hun's eyes were full of adoration and love, and she was sure her whole face turned red.

"I know. And I feel the same way, I was just afraid that I'd--"

"--ruin everything?" she finished. "Yeah, me too."

Gi-hun let out a small, quiet chuckle. She smiled, since she barely heard him laugh these days.

"I guess we were a little oblivious and dumb, weren't we?" he asked.

"We were." she agreed. "And I guess that - after everything; I didn't want to ruin what we have and I didn't want to lose the last person on Earth I care about."

Gi-hun leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. She just grinned and grabbed onto his shoulders.

"I love you, Y/N."

The muscles in her cheeks twitched slightly, her grin disappeared. Her lips trembled and she could feel the tears' need to arrive and fall down her cheeks.

"And I'm sorry we don't have a more romantic setting." he continued and she chuckled, then brushed the tears away.

"Our life isn't normal at all. In fact this is the most normal we had so far - so I don't mind." she said and returned the favor - she too gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you too, Gi-hun."

"Please don't play any more Russian roulette, okay?" he asked with a faint, sad smile.

"Okay." she agreed. "No more games."

Gi-hun gave her one last peck, before he took a step back and looked at the bloody mess the Salesman caused.

"We have to clean this up."

"Yes." she nodded. "We have to."

"What else did he tell you? Did he say anything important?"

She remembered what the Salesman told her - about them winning, about Them enjoying her relationship with Gi-hun, about them being nothing more than pieces of trash...

She thought about telling him - telling Gi-hun everything, every single detail about the talk she had with the Salesman...

...but she couldn't do it.

She couldn't ruin his last, remaining hope for humanity itself. He still had trust and love and hope... She couldn't ruin it further.

So she just shut her mouth, hugged Gi-hun one more time and began to clean up the blood.

"No. He didn't say anything else."

#squid game x reader #squid game x fem!reader #seong gi hun x reader #seong gi hun x fem!reader #alessiathepirate

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pennylanewrites · 1 year ago

Text

russian roulette [toji fushiguro]

cw: gun play, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting, choking, creampie, doggy, reverse cowgirl, mating press, kinda dark content, kinda dubcon at first, some soft!toji towards the end

general masterlist // jjk masterlist

“let’s play a game.” you watched intently as your boyfriend took a copper bullet out of a case. he brought it up to eye level, grinning mischievously.

you were used to seeing guns around his place. it was more often than not that you would tend to his open wounds in the early mornings, begging him to just go to a hospital instead. but this was different. he never used them, never even touched them around you.

toji placed the bullet in his polished revolver and spun the cylinder, finally meeting your curious eye.

“come here.” he patted his knee and you got up from your chair, making your way to him. you sat down on his lap and toji squeezed your waist where his hand fell. gun still in his hand, he touched it against your thigh, spreading it open. the cold metal left goosebumps on your skin as it trailed up to the inside of your thigh.

“toji…”

“i won’t hurt you.” the glimmer in his eyes said otherwise. your eyes curiously followed the gun’s muzzle that hid under your skirt, yelping when it came in contact with your pussy.

toji kissed your exposed neck with fervor as the gun trailed up your torso, over your heart, up your shoulder. finally, to your temple.

you couldn’t focus on the hungry kiss toji left against your lips, or the obvious boner hitting the back of your thigh uncomfortably. not when he had a literal gun to your head.

“stop.” you whispered.

“i fucking told you.”with one swift movement toji had you trapped under him on the couch. “i’m not going to hurt you.”

you watched in slow motion as his finger traced the trigger, your eyes closing shut when he finally pulled it. a slight push against your temple and a click was all you felt before he started laughing.

“it’s not funny.” you breathed out, trying to push him away.

“come on,” his strong arm pinned you down, the other pulling your skirt and panties down, “you’re fucking wet.” he licked his lips with satisfaction. his fingers came in contact with your clit, making your back arch off the couch. he pushed you down with the revolver’s front against your stomach, making you gasp.

with his fingers still massaging your clit, he leaned his body against yours to lock your lips together. his tongue played with yours, but it was quickly replaced with the gun. your eyes widened. he wouldn’t actually pull the trigger, would he? the odds were four to one, but still. you would be killed instantly.

“daddy’s gonna have his fun now, okay?” you tried to scream when he pulled the trigger, but nothing came out. a tear trickled down your cheek, trembling lips against his soft thumb.

“toji, please stop.”

“you know i like it when you cry.” his thumb moved from your bottom lip to your cheek, swiping the tears away. “let me have my fun now.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the lobe softly before moving down on the couch until he was looking at your pussy.

you spread one leg over the couch, the other over his thigh, and unbuttoned your shirt.

“what, did you come already?” toji scissored his fingers, showing you the juices sticking from them. “you might be even sicker than me.” he chuckled and tossed the gun on the table before turning his attention to you again.

“daddy, i need you.” you whined when his fingers teased your slit.

“you got me.”

his two fingers easily slipped inside you, using your wetness as lube. his other hand snaked up your body and wrapped around your throat, not applying pressure just yet. his fingers curled up, pushing deeper inside you, and you were so caught up in the feeling that you didn’t even notice him getting the gun again.

“you want me to fuck you with this?” the cold muzzle pressed against your entrance, and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t intriguing. you nodded slowly. toji pushed the muzzle inside you, making you moan out in pleasure.

it was cold and it felt weird inside you. toji relentlessly pumped it in and out of you, pushing it as deep as it would go every time you moaned his name.

“i could fucking kill you right now.” he chuckled against your thigh. he watched, mesmerised, as a ring of white bunched up around the muzzle. “and you don’t even care. you just wanna get off.”

his hand wrapped around your neck again, this time his fingers applying pressure to the sides.

“are you gonna come for me?” he picked up the pace, making the whole couch shake.

“yes, yes, fuck!” your thighs clamped together, your walls closed around the gun, your hands searching for toji. you pulled him in for a kiss, while he carefully removed the gun.

“so messy.” he palmed his erection over the gray sweatpants, watched the gun drip with your cum. he pushed it inside your mouth and you wrapped your tongue around it, licking it clean. the taste of the metal made you gag. “good girl.” he grinned and leaned over you. you opened your mouth, lolling your tongue out for him to spit on.

“toji…” you wrapped your legs around his own, locking him in, and pulled him closer. “want you.” you pushed his sweatpants down, fingers teasing the slit of his cock. toji slammed his lips against yours, picking you up with ease. he set you up over the arm of the couch, and you watched over your shoulder as he took his pants off. pre-cum was already leaking from his hard cock when he slapped it against your ass.

he used his hands to spread your cheeks open, the cold air bringing goosebumps up your spine. you felt his tip rub against your cunt, collecting your wetness. a whine escaped your lips when toji finally entered your hole.

“how are you so tight, baby?” toji’s voice strained as he held your hips back, slamming his cock inside you. your back arched and you moaned in pleasure. you could feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him as your walls fluttered around it.

toji knew he was too big. too girthy, too long. but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to fit snug inside you every time.

and you loved every single second of it.

his hand reached for your hair, lifting your body up so your back was against his chest. his strong arm wrapped around your stomach, locking you in place as he thrusted in and out of you.

“daddy, more!” you brought your hand down to your puffy clit, trying to satisfy that hunger resting deep in your stomach. “i’m gonna come!”

“yeah? you like this?” he whispered against your shoulder, his fingers circling over yours, pressing up against your sweet spot. “you like how daddy fucks you?”

you nodded, your eyes closing as you slammed your hips down, trying to feel more of him. the second orgasm of the night washed through you and you were out of breath, but toji was insatiable.

without pulling out, toji flipped you over so he was sat on the couch and you were on top of him, facing the other way. his hands raked along your body, his need to touch every inch of you obvious.

they ended up on your hips, holding tight so he could lift you up just barely, then slam you down on his cock again. you were hot and sweaty, your back and his torso stuck together and the sounds coming from both of your mouths filled the room.

“you wanna come again?” toji bit your neck playfully, reaching the end of the couch to get the gun. his fingers wrapped around your neck, barely applying pressure. the muzzle met your temple again.

“y-yeah.” you moaned out, lifting your feet off the ground to move your hips freely.

“work for it.” you could hear his smirk as he sat back, bringing you with him.

you tried to move your hips up and down, front and back, but it wasn’t enough. it was never like the way toji did it, and your legs were getting tired. you held yourself up on his knees and turned around with a pout.

“toji, i can’t.” you muttered.

“that’s okay, baby.” his hand left your neck and he pulled you back so you were snug against him. you breathed out as he slowly lifted you both up, then down, more of his length fitting inside you at this angle. “what are the odds now?” he pushed the gun against your temple.

“two to one.” you replied and gasped when he pulled the trigger again, only for nothing to happen.

“wrong. now it’s two to one.” he laughed, voice raspy as he bucked his hips up furiously, his thighs meeting the back of yours with every thrust.

“f-fuck, toji! i’m coming!” your legs were shaking uncontrollably and you would be lying if you said the adrenaline and the danger didn’t turn you on.

“good girl. come for me so i can fill you up.” toji guided you through another orgasm, his arms keeping your thighs open so you could see just how he fucked you.

“up.” he slapped your thigh softly, pushing you off him. “come here.” he wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead and sat you on his lap, this time facing him.

“what?” you asked softly after he kept staring at you.

“you okay?” you nodded, earning a squeeze on your arm. “answer me.”

“i’m okay. you’re ruining the vibe.” you teased, looking up at him through your eyelashes. your makeup was long smudged and strands of sweaty hair stuck on your face and neck, but toji always thought you looked pretty. too pretty for him.

“oh, am i now?” he pushed you on the couch and you spread your legs, but he closed them, bringing them over your head. basically folding you in half.

“toji, it’s not gonna fit like that.” you whined when his tip teased your fluttering hole.

“oh, it’s gonna fit.” he tested the waters, pushing the tip in only to remove it completely. “i’ll make it fit.” and with one thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt, groaning in pleasure.

your body was numb. he had never fucked you like this. even though the position was uncomfortable, the look on his face and his moans of pleasure as he thrusted in you were worth it. he brought your legs over his shoulders, pressing against your stomach with his hand.

“look.” he breathed out. you could see the bulge in your belly every time he thrusted. “oh, fuck,” he strained, “get the gun.”

you went to hand it to him, but he moved your hand so you were pointing it at him. with your legs still on his shoulders, he leaned closer to you until the muzzle touched his forehead.

“shoot.” he urged you, eyes wide as he fucked into you with fervour.

you finally understood how it felt. two chances it would draw a blank. one chance you would shoot his brains out. your finger fidgeted with the trigger and you tried to focus on anything other than the cock your walls tightened around.

click. blank.

you let out a sigh of relief, a small laugh escaping your lips.

“god, you’re so hot.” he praised you. “i’m gonna fill this pussy up.” he leaned down to kiss you softly.

ropes of cum filled you, making you moan in pleasure. toji slowly pulled out, his hand still around your ankles to keep your legs up. he watched with fascination as the cum oozed out of your gaping hole and he brought a finger down, pushing the liquid back inside.

“toji, it’s filthy!” you tried to protest when he brought his finger up and licked it clean. he finally let your legs go and you dropped them on either side of him.

“you did good, baby.” he praised again, leaning down to leave soft kisses on your belly, your stomach, between your breasts. “so good for daddy.”

#toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #cw dark content #cw gunplay #anime smut #jjk smut #toji smut #daddy toji

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